I’ve been treading lightly in regards to selling my work. The truth is, most people don’t buy art. They don’t value art. They don’t see a place for art in their homes, in their lives. Money for rent, for a car, for food, for health insurance, for a vacation, for drugs… all on the list way ahead of art. Still, we live in this god forsaken capitalist society, where everything (and everyone) has a price tag. To be an artist in this environment is a challenge. To keep the dirty concept of money out of my art has been a struggle. I don’t make might art to make money. I’ll do it anyway. But… material costs money. Internet and websites cost money. My studio (a luxury, I know) costs money. Hanging a show costs money. Prints and frames and promotion cost money. Again, sales of artwork are few and far between. And yet… I can’t deny that it is nice to make a sale every now and then. It is validation, for sure. Someone likes your work enough to pay for it. To hang it in their home. To live with it. I don’t want to be motivated be profit, or greed, or even breaking even. But somedays (like today) it is hard. Hard to justify making work to sell. Hoping to move a few framed photos. The adage that “nobody cares about your work” still is a tough thing to hear and every now and then, you get a stiff reminder of the truth in the statement. I have been working on adjusting my attitude towards “selling” and I am trying to divorce myself completely from the expectation of getting money for something that comes from so deep inside of my soul. The art vs. commerce dilemma is nothing new, but it’s jarring when the sludge of money creeps into my process. How do you feel?
Manifesto
A few months back I wrote up a list of my creative beliefs. These were relevant only to me, and only for that given moment. The more I sat with the list, and let it gestate, the more I liked it as a sort of ad hoc manifesto. You know, all the great movements seem to have a manifesto. Karl Marx had his; Martin Luther nailed his to the church door. The Situationists, the Dadaists… hell, even my therapist helped me focus on a Dharma code…a spiritual, intention focussing manifesto, so to speak.
I have this current manifesto stuck to my studio wall, and also have it as my laptop wallpaper, so I look at it on a regular basis. I incorporated different influences; some from improv, some from my therapy, some from my art studies, and some from my rage and depression (if I’m being 100% transparent, which I am…)
I thought I’d share it here, in hopes that it pushes you, dear reader, to consider your own creative, personal, expressive values.
Some thoughts on each:
“Inactivity is not laziness.” There is great value in doing nothing, and if given the time and space, to do nothing for as long as possible.
“Destruction is creation.” I cribbed this from Picasso, thought I think it is a biblical idiom originally. It really rings true for me, especially in regards to my art practice over the past couple of years.
“Give things away.” Sharing my thoughts, my words, my blog, my podcast, my zines, my photos is an integral part of my interaction with my muse and with my world.
“Expect no reward.” Money, fame, and validation are all fine and good, but I try to create (and to live) with no expectations of profit, monetary or otherwise.
“Expect no audience.” No one gives a shit about you and your artwork. Make it anyway.
“Make boredom valuable.” Much of life is underwhelming, if not outright mind-numbing drudgery. Use this reality as fodder for thinking of things to create.
“Make something every day.” Take a photo, write a note, sing a song, bake a loaf of bread. One creative act a day keeps the wolves at bay.
“Remain curious.” Hard to be bored when there is wonder all around you.
“Say ‘Yes, and…’’ ” As in improv, so in life. Agree and add to other ideas. Saying “no” ends all potential immediately.
“Be the ‘you’ the world needs.” A bit woo woo, a bit snowflakey, but I don’t care. You were born, you’ll die. Be the best version of yourself you can be.
“Live until you die.” Like they say in Shawshank Redemption…. Didn’t realize it was a Stephen King quote.
feel free to snag this image for yourself…
The Allure of the Film Aesthetic
For as long as I have loved photography, there has always been something extra special about film. Not just the process of shooting film, instead, something more elemental. Very simply, I like the “look” of film. I like the frame borders, the sprocket holes, the type and numbers along the edges, the grain, the eventual scratches and fingerprints. The film aesthetic is something I play with in my work. I like to exaggerate the unique characteristics of film, especially pushing grain and contrast beyond the limits of acceptability. As I’ve ventured further away from straight photography, it is the intrinsic visual look of film that keeps me grounded in the medium. I have recently been exposing film in a motion picture camera, then utilizing the multiple frames as an opportunity to tell a different kind of story; short narratives through a sequence of images. I really enjoy making the choice of which frames to highlight from a longer strip of film. This attraction has now led to me sourcing 16mm film reels from Ebay. One reel was in pretty bad shape when it arrived this week. Warped, scratched and moldy; yet intact enough to allow me to play freely with the footage. So much to discover and ponder on this film. The anonymous, family home movie reel shows various locations; most likely highlights of a family vacation. The frames feature men and women in dress that looks like it is from the 1930s or 1940s. I wonder, who are these people? They are surely dead by now. How did this random reel of film travel from its original owner, through years of storage and neglect, to wind up for sale online in 2023, and somehow appearing in front of me under such randomly stumbled upon circumstances? I guess my attraction to the film aesthetic has created yet another divergent path for me to wander down. What discoveries await?
Upon Returning
I am taking tentative steps back into life after a challenging couple of weeks. Regular readers of this blog will notice that I tapered off a bit from the weekly posting towards then end of 2022. I have decided to continue a more sporadic posting for the time being. The weekly writing practice is less necessary for my thought process, I have found. The constant work that goes into my podcast, and my daily journaling feels like it is enough to keep me engaged in the “life of the mind.” I certainly have enough work on the horizon to make the blog section of this website a less than regular outlet. Yet, I refuse to let it go dormant completely. I think I’ll post when I have something relevant to say. Sometimes the strongest statements are made by saying as little as possible.
Rest In Peace, Mom
My mother passed away suddenly on January 1, 2023. I was lucky to be able to book a flight back to New Jersey quickly enough the day before to be with her in the hospital when she passed. It is astonishing how quickly things can happen. One day they are here, the next day they are gone. I know I am fortunate to have had her in my life for so long. 81 is not young, but in these days, it’s not exactly old either. Nonetheless, I spent a long week with my family, making arrangements and laying her to rest. These days to come will be hard, I’m sure. For today, I will rest as well, thinking about the woman who brought me into this world, with love and affection. I will miss you, Mom.
2022:33 Here Is My Proof
PROOF
I’ve always enjoyed sharing my work freely with the world. What you give is what you get. I use the word “proof” in a general way; this work is proof that I am alive, proof that I see the world this way, proof of concept, proof to myself, proof to you, proof of love, proof of mortality, proof of my senses, proof that generosity is its own reward. I make these cards by hand and leave them for strangers at a special place. Maybe you’ll get one for yourself.
2022: 30 Pinteresting
Friends and followers of this blog probably know that I have mixed feelings (at best) towards Instagram. I’ve been struggling with the vapid nature of the selfie-centric platform ever since I jumped on board, and have had a strong hate / love relationship with it ever since. My disdain grew stronger once I left Facebook late last year. Maybe having one less social media platform made the ‘gram warts show even more obviously to me.
I have yet to depart from Instagram, and try to reconcile the fact that I still use it, mostly to communicate with my circle of creative friends. I also see it as a way to promote my podcast, for better or for worse. But I really wanted an alternative, something like Tumblr, back in the early 20-teens, when it really felt like a creative platform, before the bots took it over. Another aging hipster I know told me he found an alternative, and I decided to give it a try. Lo and behold… Pinterest.
I had originally dismissed Pinterest as a platform for crafty Moms and fashion / interior design wannabe Millennials. I don’t even know how I formed that bias in my mind, but that’s how I perceived the platform. Instead, I have discovered (albeit very late to the party) that Pinterest is a great way to find visual inspiration, and it satisfies my need to scroll through eye candy on my iPhone. What it does not do is fill me with contempt, with envy, and with feelings of insecurity. I have no skin in the Pinterest game. I don’t use it to go fishing for “likes” or instant validation. Instead, I see a parade of imagery, not just from random creators but from great artists I already know and love. Case in point, my feed is currently heavy in Robert Rauschenberg, Sigmar Polke, Robert Frank and Brice Marden. These names alone keep me inspired, and the tangential images that populate my feed feature visually connected content that has pulled my down numerous rabbit holes of discovery.
Might I suggest that you also give it a try? It might make the eventual Instagram plug pulling much less painful and probably more satisfying.
2022: 29 Film Swap / Destruction
Last year I participated in a film swap, sponsored by the great folks at Lomography. They connected film shooters from all over the world to collaborate on a film sharing project (you shoot a roll of film and then send it to the assigned person to shoot the roll again in their camera…double exposures!) Last year’s project was so much fun I decided to throw my hat in the ring again this year.
My roll of film arrived this week from Perth, Australia(!) so I was excited to run it through one of my cameras as soon as the grips of Covid released me from being homebound. After shooting and processing, I noticed the doubles didn’t come out as prominently as expected. The iso rating / underexposure approach didn’t yield clear double exposures. Having been granted permission by my shooting partner, I decided to inflict my (soon to be patented) creative destruction approach to the processed film.
Bleach, flame and dirt was inflicted on the negative strips. I took a fairly haphazard approach to this destruction, not really caring if I went too far with it. The results are very much to my liking and my Aussie friend was pleased as well. Some traditional shooters may cringe at this approach, but I find it liberating to succumb to the happenstance of pouring bleach onto of a strip of film. And one thing is assured, this definitely creates one of a kind images.
2022: 27 je suis
Sometimes I don’t consider myself as a “photographer” anymore. Yes, I primarily work in photo-based image making, but as far as “straight” photography goes…I have moved on. Yet I am uncomfortable disposing of the designation completely, and I feel that just calling myself an “artist” seems too general.
I have been going through a large body of work from a project that has taken over four years to shoot. I’ve been edit my selections via 4 x 6 prints. This has led to a preliminary layout for my next self-publishing project. Once that grouping was complete, I decided to take another pass at the “bleach, burn, scratch, cut and tape” process I started to utilize during the early days of the pandemic. This approach continues to interest me. It continues to surprise me. I get lost in the process, and never really know where it will all leading, image-wise.
Ultimately, I’m happy to consider anything I do as part of my creative practice and whatever label applies to me is secondary. Call me what you will.
2022: 26 This Place
Hard to be an optimist these days.