Making myself talk (art, of course)

"new beginnings" 4"x 6" (sold)

Generally I belong to the camp of people who choose not to make New Year's resolutions. I tend to check in throughout the year and make lots of little resolutions as I go. But this year, a few resolutions just sort-of "happened". And they all belong to the "being social" category of life.

It began when one evening my partner said " I really want us to begin seeing friends more. It is driving me a little crazy that we never go out and socialize. We need a community". My partner is a social person. I am not. at all. Literally, I could go for months without seeing anyone, contentedly holed up within my own little schedule. I even go out of my way sometimes to avoid people. Not that I don't like people- once I actually get out, I enjoy myself quite a bit. I just have to be pushed. So, I promised him that I would make an effort to invite friends over and go out more.

Then I realized this probably should also carry over into my art life. Happy making studio work, I only show work when someone approaches me to do so. Now there are many reasons for this (some shyness, some not thinking I have enough work yet, etc) But most of it is, I am just uncomfortable talking about (and selling) my art. I LOVE talking art, just not mine. However, every successful artist I have spoken with has told me to go to openings, meet people, talk to people and approach galleries. Oh the horror! So many opportunities for awkward moments and social faux pas. Yet here I go, New Year's Resolution #1 and only: Get out there and talk.

Beginning small, of course, don't want to set myself up for certain failure :). So the goals are to:
1) go to at least one opening per month. The actual opening. Not just quietly sneaking early on a weekday to look at the work.

2) update my blog at least every Monday. I love doing this, but it is amazing how I think I never have the time. and yes, I know today is Tuesday, but today's excuse is my sister left town yesterday evening and we were hanging out. I started off with a bang this past spring and have slowly gone down to one post a month, if that. This includes taking regular photographs of my artwork. Not waiting until every 6mos.

3) contact at least one gallery per month. Here's where I am the most afraid. But even with rejection, it is great practice to finally get to a few that say yes.


So there it is, in writing. Now I am accountable, even if just to myself!

On another note (but still in the talking subject), I shared a booth with two artist friends at the Keep Austin Bizarre Bazaar last December.(you can see all the work at jaynemccoyart.blogspot.com) I was very unsure what to expect, as I had never done an art fair before. This one was pretty small, so nice for a first go at is plus my expenses were kept down with sharing. Other than freezing my butt off- I had a great time! Great conversations with people about both my art and art in general, had quite a few friends come by and say hello (thank you!) and sold some work. Final verdict: exhausting but worthwhile.

Again, met many wonderful people. And a few who freaked out :). Below is the piece that one lady saw while walking by and exclaimed "EWWWWWWWW! THAT'S SO WIERD!!!!" Evidently, she does not share my love for insects :).

"wonderment" 4"x 6" (8x10 framed)

last week's lessons

Lessons
The theme of last week became an overall lesson on the value of life. It began Tuesday night when I found a bright orange butterfly with silver underwings stranded in the middle of the alley, slowly flapping its wings. One of my hobbies is collecting dead bugs and studying/drawing them and an intact butterfly is always a prize. So the scientist in me leaped for joy and I scooped it up and very carefully carried it home, bringing it inside so I could film it before it died. A rare opportunity. I filmed the butterfly for 45mins, just staying in place and flapping its wings... it was so beautiful, so delicate, and I felt so helpless just watching and waiting for it to die. How do you help a butterfly? My thoughts wandered, thinking about what it must be like to know you are going to die, and have to wait for it while loved ones watched helplessly. Felt incredibly internal and sad at the end of this filming session and made a "nest" in one of my plants outside for the butterfly to rest in.

Morning comes, butterfly is still alive. This time, I can't watch anymore and use the power of the internet. Butterfly starving? Lethargic? Sure enough, I find a post that tells me to put sugar water in a shallow dish near the butterfly. I do this and two hours later the butterfly is gone. Miracle. End of story? No, unfortunately.

I receive the phone call that afternoon. My friend Paul has passed away from the brain cancer he was diagnosed with over 2 years before. I burst into tears, and think again on the butterfly. This was Paul, beautiful, knowing he was going to die and giving nothing but love to everyone around him. He passed away in the arms of his wife, with his baby daughter nearby.
Saturday: attend his memorial... life is in perspective, for the moment. Enjoy/embrace everyday. Give as much love as possible...

Sunday. back to bugs. There are these bright orange and black-spiked caterpillers chomping away all over my beloved passion flowers. I don't want to put poison on them because of my dogs, and I read somewhere that dishsoap and water does the trick. But instead, I have a better idea. I will collect them in a jar- they will die (I would have killed them anyway) and I can spend hours and hours drawing them. Perfect. So my son and I spend the next half hour or so scooping up every caterpillar we can find and placing them in a glass jar.




Of course they start to scramble around like mad, and that guiltly voice about killing things begins to nag me. But they are killing my flowers! But slowly killing them like this? I thought they would die almost instantly in there. They were going to be killed anyway! AH! I can't stand to see anything die and I feel terrible at this point, seeing their little bodies freaking out. I keep thinking about how I saved the butterfly, but will kill the caterpillars. All because the butterfly is more beautiful and generally valued more among the insects we actually want in our gardens. To squash my guilt once and for all I jumped online to find out exactly what kind of caterpillar it was and prove how horrible it was that it was killing my plants.

Well, turns out it is a gulf fritillary.... it feeds almost exclusively on passion flower, AND it is the caterpillar that turns into the exact butterfly I re-vived a few days previous. Full circle.

What does this all mean, and where does my friend Paul fit in all this? I'm not exactly sure, but it certainly made me question how I valued life. That I should have no power to take it. That each living thing has something to contribute, including us. I know, it is a bug... but still a living being on this earth, and part of the biological balance that is so important to our survival as well. And it felt like a metaphor for something so much larger.
My friend Paul contributed so much in his short life- he gave love to everyone, invited everyone into his inner circle. He was nicknamed "the includer" by all his friends because of his gentle openess to all. He is an example to all who had the priveledge to know him.

I, of course, let all of the caterpillars go- placing them one by one back on my passion flower vine. I am going to trust that the vine is big enough to support all life- that for every flower that gets chomped, another will bloom for the butterflies, and I can enjoy it all. However, I WILL be drawing the caterpillars- just from pulling up a chair to the vine this time :). And this butterfly (I don't know exactly how just yet) will be the star of my next video piece.

cheers!