On December 5, 2009, my dear friend Lake, along with her friend Mr. Imagination, were throwing an art party. Lake told me to feel free to bring any art that I happened to have.
I brought these:
For many years, I’d been doing free writing in eyestrain-o-vision on scraps of paper to kill time at work or at places where I didn’t have a catbook handy but at least had a receipt I could write on the back of. Some I kept; most were disposed of. I was intrigued by the textural quality of the words themselves when I got a page filled up and wondered if they could be made into some kind of visual art.
My first attempt was a catastrophe, but I learned a great deal from it in terms of technique and possibility. So on Saturday afternoon, I finished up “Spiral”, started and finished “That Which We Call the Heart” and placed them in two frames I’d been storing in a desk drawer for the past several years. I took them to Lake’s party just to see what other people would think.
I figured I’d get a pat on the head and a “that’s kind of cool” from people and maybe get a few tips on how to refine the work. Instead, I got an invitation to show my work at a gallery show that was coming together as soon as the space is ready. Two different people suggested those pieces alone could go for $150-$250 each. Mr. Imagination wants to trade art with me.
I am already pondering the next attempts in this medium and how to improve the results. I have no idea where this will lead, but I’m looking forward to finding out.