After more than 30 years of making art, I’m finally on my way to selling some. I hope. Kinda.
Well, here’s the thing. I’ve given away tons of art, but when it comes to selling it, I have some sort of mental block. It’s like I’m showing people my dirty underwear and inviting them to judge me. Yes, part of it is the judgement. But there is more to it. Much more.
I went to see Vic Muniz speak at the local art museum recently. (He’s amazing. Check out his documentary “Wasteland.”) He said that when artists say they only do art for themselves, they are lying. Why do art if you don’t want people to see it? Mr. Muniz, I must disagree. Art, for me, is the blood in my veins. You can’t see it (usually), but it keeps me alive. Without art I would die. So, every chance I get, I do something to inspire me, to give my brain the outlet it needs.
But, here’s the problem. I get sick to my stomach just thinking about trying to sell anything I’ve made. My head starts spinning, I can’t breath. Wait. Is this a panic attack? I think it is. Honestly, I would feel more comfortable throwing my stuff in the trashcan than trying to sell it.
What the hell is my problem?!?!?!?!
So, my husband (who loves my art and thinks I’m the best artist in the world) found an independent book store that supports local artists. He showed them photos of my works and they said they would love to have them in their store. That’s amazing! They are coming in on their day off to look at my stuff. I should be over the moon! Instead, I feel like I’m gonna throw up and it’s 6 am and I haven’t slept at all.
No, seriously. What the hell is wrong with me?
Since I can’t sleep, I decided to start a blog. I’m not going to let this nonsense keep me from being who I want to be any longer. This is the start
of something new for me. Even if I’m too tired to stand up, and have to pull over 50 times on the way there to throw up, I’m going to meet with the book store owners. I want to document this journey. I want to be accountable for my future actions. I want to know there are people out there counting on me to keep my word.
So, I’m saying this now. Whatever this psychosis is, I’m going to fight it, until I can quit being a bartender and start being a real artist. This is my mission.