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Blogging and collecting: in which I compete against myself

6252b-307.jpgHere’s a curious tale for you: A week ago I was approached by someone interested in art collecting and in art blogging, and particularly in the interaction of the two. The C, as I shall call this beginning collector, put forward the interesting speculation that blogged artworks acquire “an aura of fame” that potentially makes them more salable. Whether that’s true or not, it probably doesn’t hurt the value of an artwork for it to be blogged.

6699d-234.jpgIt happens that A&P had come to the C’s attention, and as a way of getting hirs feet wet, the C is considering buying perhaps half a dozen prints of images that have appeared in my posts. My prints are cheap; I’m sure I wouldn’t be writing this post if your paintings, linoleums, quilts, etc. were the same! (But maybe they’ll be next.) The C had good timing, in that just a few days ago I met with a local gallery owner who was enthusiastic about showing my work in her gallery. If that works out, my prices will have to go up, at least for work being sold by the gallery. (Also, the C didn’t know it, but I currently give an unadvertised 20% discount on purchases after the first.)

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Happy Easter From New York City!

New Yorkers are works of art unto themselves.

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joyous view of manhattan

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Happy faces from all windows of a skyscraper merging with the blue sky as painted by a little girl visiting her grandparents in Manhattan in the 1970s.

The grandparents, living in an apartment complex of the garment district, introduced Nina to the culture of this big city.

The Jewish grandparents led a complicated life, balancing jobs with their struggle for social justice in this country, and to their granddaughter, they offered the unsullied joys of Manhattan.

Disasters happen, skyscrapers may topple. This painting celebrates the possibility of joy and innocence.

41 views

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We have some impressive mountain ranges in Montana, but this isn’t one of them. Though reminiscent of the Bridgers that stretch north of Bozeman, this is, in fact, a dirt pile. I came across it while cruising through a future subdivision, killing time before an appointment and in a mood to photograph. As a handy subject for the 20-30 minutes I had, it was about perfect.

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A photo to distract you from the previous post

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plein air landscape painting
Painting From Life vs. From Photos


Self Portraits

 

Why do artists create them? Why are viewers interested in them? Is it exhibitionism on one side and voyeurism on the other?  For reasons I can’t clearly explain I’ve never been comfortable with self portraits by any artist.   So that’s what you look like or want me to see about you?  Fine. Thanks. Now go away. I would love to hear from others how they feel about self portraits, their own and those by other artists, any other artist.  At the risk of revealing too much about myself and just how fucked up I am, I’m simply going to express–in a kind of stream of conciousness way–how my own self portraits make me feel.  Uncomfortable (obviously). Silly. Naked. Exposed. Self-indulgent. Egotistical. Awkward.  Embarrassed. Validated (like a parking ticket). On the record.  That’s all I have to say on this subject. Short, sweet and revealing.

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Still and falling water

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Richard reminded us recently about the painter Clyfford Still, and it seems I’m still under the influence. Not of Still, but of whatever it is that makes me make pictures that look like Stills. Last Saturday in Yellowstone we hiked in to Tower Falls and I made the photograph that heads this post. I did not have Clyff in mind while on location, but I find the result strikingly similar to these:

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