• About

The Perks of Being an Artist

~ Because demented people need love, too.

The Perks of Being an Artist

Tag Archives: whining

The Artist’s Shame Spiral

12 Thursday Nov 2015

Posted by emilypageart in art, culture, dance, painting

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

abstract art, art, artist, dancers, Dogwood blossom, Emily Page Art, expressionist art, gallery, modern art, oil on board, oil on canvas, oil painting, paint, painting, pity party, realist art, rejection, still life, whining

One of the tough things about being an artist is rejection. To be honest, you’re surrounded by it most of the time. Whether it be from a gallery turning down your request to have them carry your work, or from sales that don’t happen. Even the people that tell you how much they love your work are, in a way, rejecting you when they don’t like it enough to actually buy it. Pricing your work is hard, too, because you want to sell it, but you want to value it for what it’s worth. But what it’s worth is really arbitrary. If it’s not selling at any price, it’s not worth anything. I’ve raised and lowered prices several times, and it really doesn’t seem to make much difference. This, of course, makes me think the work is no good.

My dancer work appeals mostly to dancers or former dancers, who generally have no money. My realist work is smaller but more expensive because of the time required to complete each piece, and people balk at the price. And when I go into galleries, I see mostly landscape art. I can do landscapes, but it really doesn’t interest me beyond a little plein air painting now and then. I appreciate the landscape art other people do, but I don’t have much fun doing it myself. And I don’t just want to imitate what other people are already doing. That’s not art.

So I find myself feeling kind of down about it all over the last few days. When I was painting in Boone last week, I realized how meditative painting is for me. I haven’t had time lately to paint much, and my studio in my house isn’t set up well yet, so I’d kind of forgotten how much I enjoy it. When I was out there painting, my brain finally just shutthefuckup and I stopped worrying about every little thing. I was just there, painting. Clearly I need to paint more frequently. I know people think that’s what I do at the sip and paint studio, but really, I’m teaching, not painting. Technically, I have a paintbrush in hand, but I’m busy listening to my customers chatter so I know if someone needs help, or I’m planning how I’m going to teach the next step, or watching the clock to make sure we’re moving at a reasonable pace. I’m not concentrating on just playing with the paint (not to mention that I’ve already painted what I’m teaching several times, so it loses its thrill).

I also found a really great gallery in Blowing Rock, and submitted my work despite the fact the 9 out of 10 paintings were impressionist landscapes. I knew it was a long shot, but thought maybe I could fill a niche for them. They, of course, said no. Which sends me spiraling down and thinking that my work is crap. Or makes me feel like I need to switch to painting landscapes if I ever want to make a living as an artist. Then we went to the NC Museum of Art, and when we got to the modern art section, I started getting really pissed off. Great, the artist painted sloppy squares next to more sloppy squares using ugly colors. And the museum bought the work for thousands of dollars. Meanwhile, I’m doing this, which takes really ability, not just an interesting concept, and no one will pay even $100 for it.

5

5″x5″ oil on board

I recognize that this is one long, whiny post, but I’m feeling like I need to get this stuff out to move past it. I know I should just be painting for myself for the joy of painting, but I have a whole storage room full of art, and it’s hard to justify making more work that’s going to sit in a dark room where no one will ever see it. Truth be told, I switched to the realist work mostly because I can do smaller pieces that will take up less storage space and because it’s become clear that people aren’t going to embrace my abstract expressionist dancers.

I also recognize that not every gallery is going to be a good fit, so I really need to be submitting to new galleries every week, and then maybe I’ll develop a thicker skin for each new rejection, and eventually, hopefully, I’ll find a gallery that will carry and can sell my work. But for now, I need to nurse my wounds from the latest “no” and figure out how to gather the courage to try again.

Share this:

  • Twitter
  • Facebook
  • Pinterest
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • Tumblr

Like this:

Like Loading...

A Reminder Of Why It’s Nice To Be Nice

04 Wednesday Mar 2015

Posted by emilypageart in culture, humor, kindness

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

generosity, how to take a compliment, Invisibilia, kindness, mood, self degradation, whining

I am too porous a person. I tend to take on the mood of the people around me, often to my detriment. But I was listening to Invisibilia (a new NPR podcast) recently and heard this episode and discovered that we all do this to a certain extent. We are hard wired to adapt to and adopt the behaviors and emotions of those around us.

I can see this every night as I conduct class. The mood of the entire class tends to follow that of the most vocal participant. So if someone at the beginning of class starts huffing and puffing and complaining that they suck or that they’re stressed or that they “thought this was supposed to be fun,” the entire class starts doing the same and by the end of the night, everyone is stressed out (including me). If someone begins class by saying that this is such an adventure or that it’s a great way to get out of the house or they’re having so much fun or they did a great job on that particular step of the painting, the entire class has a much more positive attitude through to the end. Often, people aren’t even cognizant that they’re setting the tone or that they’re complaining. I’ll be thoroughly convinced that someone hated the class based on the things they’ve been saying, but then, at the end of class, they’ll rebook for another. So clearly, they were enjoying themselves, but their way of communicating with the world tends toward complaint or self degradation.

In an effort to remind people that they shouldn’t take this too seriously, we have signs up in the studio saying that, “Wining is fine, but please don’t whine.” Occasionally things will get so bad that I have to set a rule during class that you cannot say anything negative about your own painting. You can say whatever you like about your neighbor’s painting, but they are allowed to beat you with a wet paintbrush.

Women in particular tend to put themselves down. Women are not generally taught to say positive things about themselves. When someone gives us a compliment, we dismiss it or say why the person giving the compliment is wrong. Partly, it’s false modesty, but I also think that we spend so much of our lives comparing ourselves to those around us that we honestly don’t think good things about ourselves. On a regular basis, I’ll hear a woman compliment her friend’s painting. But instead of saying, “Thank you,” the friend will say something like, “You’re crazy. You’ve had too much to drink.” If I give a compliment, the person will pretty much always say, “You’re paid to say that.” I also think we tend to complain about how we’re doing in hopes that someone will contradict the negative things we’re thinking about ourselves. Subconsciously, we’re hoping someone will tell us we’re special and talented and worthy of love. Interestingly, men in my classes rarely whine. They will sometimes laugh at their own work, but it tends to be much more lighthearted than the way women do it. They’re more than happy to put their friends’ talent down, though.

Anyway, I have come to realize that so much of my happiness with my job depends on the overall mood of my customers. When they’re crankypants, I’m crankypants. When they’re enthusiastic, I’m a rainbow ball of unicorn giggles. So I’m trying to learn from that and be a more positive person when interacting with others, from the teller at the bank to person waiting in line behind me at Starbucks, to my customers, and to my spouse. I need to set an example of kindness and generosity, even when I’m feeling anything but. This is not to say that I can’t have a bad day or vent or have a little pity party, but in general, I’m trying to be more aware of the way my mood influences the mood of those around me. Listen to the podcast and try to think about your role in the world, too, because I might be the next person you bump into, and wouldn’t you rather do something to make me laugh until I wet my pants than make me go home and cry into my poor kitties’ fur (because really, when I do that, I end up with cat fur stuck all over my face, and it invariably gets onto my contact lenses so I have to take them out, and then I get a headache from wearing my glasses, and you don’t want to be the cause of my headache, do you)? And if you can’t be nice, at least have the courtesy to pass me the bourbon.

Share this:

  • Twitter
  • Facebook
  • Pinterest
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • Tumblr

Like this:

Like Loading...
Follow The Perks of Being an Artist on WordPress.com

Emily Page

Emily Page

Check Out the Art

You can view my artwork on Facebook or on my website at http://www.emilypageart.com

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Archives

Buy Fractured Memories!

Buy the book!

Goodreads – Fractured Memories

Follow The Perks of Being an Artist on WordPress.com

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 2,251 other subscribers

Buy Fractured Memories!

Buy Fractured Memories!

Blog at WordPress.com.

  • Follow Following
    • The Perks of Being an Artist
    • Join 501 other followers
    • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
    • The Perks of Being an Artist
    • Customize
    • Follow Following
    • Sign up
    • Log in
    • Report this content
    • View site in Reader
    • Manage subscriptions
    • Collapse this bar
 

Loading Comments...
 

    %d bloggers like this: