Hell No, I Won't Show
I had coffee with some gals of mine this afternoon; one is a visual artist, one is a jewelry designer, and one is, well, me (yes, I am my own gal.) We drank our soy lattes and discussed our upcoming show. There will be fine wine, exotic cheese, soft music, and good conversation. Patty will show her art, Pat will showcase her Spring line, and I will... what? What the HELL am I supposed to do? I'm all over the place, folks. I write songs, I used to sing them but I don't anymore, I take pictures, I write free-style prose... so what am I supposed to "show?" I know... I could dress all in black and do a little poet's corner...sure, that's gonna impress the hell out of people.
After coffee ended I dropped my "sure-thing-guys-I'm-right-there-with-you" face and moped to the back of the bookstore to get some marketing ideas. I didn't get them. Then Patty called and invited me over for drinks. THAT, my friends, IS something I can do well, so I gladly accepted her invitation.
Out on her back porch we talked about art and what makes us artists...what inspires us... what it takes to BE one. I tried out my theory on the soul of an artist, and you know what? Patty got it. When I told her that our "funks" are the very things that allow us to tap into life and make something unique and moving out of it, she understood. Actually, she came out of her seat and emphatically cried, "Yes!" So we sat in silence, experiencing our "funk" and our fears... reflected on the great artists that drank themselves to death, or cut off their ear... and I remarked that quite possibly the things that hold us back are the things that hold us down to this realm; our family...our children... and Patty said, "But what if they stop holding us down... what if a moment comes where our artistic propensity for madness overcomes our familial obligations."
What if?
All I know is we have a show coming up, and I have nothing to show.
After coffee ended I dropped my "sure-thing-guys-I'm-right-there-with-you" face and moped to the back of the bookstore to get some marketing ideas. I didn't get them. Then Patty called and invited me over for drinks. THAT, my friends, IS something I can do well, so I gladly accepted her invitation.
Out on her back porch we talked about art and what makes us artists...what inspires us... what it takes to BE one. I tried out my theory on the soul of an artist, and you know what? Patty got it. When I told her that our "funks" are the very things that allow us to tap into life and make something unique and moving out of it, she understood. Actually, she came out of her seat and emphatically cried, "Yes!" So we sat in silence, experiencing our "funk" and our fears... reflected on the great artists that drank themselves to death, or cut off their ear... and I remarked that quite possibly the things that hold us back are the things that hold us down to this realm; our family...our children... and Patty said, "But what if they stop holding us down... what if a moment comes where our artistic propensity for madness overcomes our familial obligations."
What if?
All I know is we have a show coming up, and I have nothing to show.
posted by Robin at 9:13 PM
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