Sometimes It Just Doesn't Work

Today I pulled all of my paintings out of the lone gallery I appeared in. People in this area seem to want mostly red (the hue that is known as "ReallyReally Red"!) and, although buyers seem to respond positively to my paintings, they're not buying them. I guess for that reason, the gallery owner stashed my works in a back room, out of sight of gallery visitors, and "replaced" me on the walls with another artist's paintings.

Well, that's understandable, I suppose. If an artist isn't selling in a gallery, the owner needs to move that artist out and find another whose work does sell. But it's frustrating when all of the hopes from the last two years were flushed down the toilet. The buyers' tastes in this area are also, well, nonexistent. I've been advised to head further east, maybe to Texas, or even as far as the East Coast.

What can I say? I'm angry with the art world right now, and I'm not sure what to do next. For now, I'll focus on doing what I really want to do. Maybe some day, I'll put them up for sale. But I'll definitely not narrow the focus to one specific region, as I did with the works that were in the gallery.

Sometimes it just doesn't work. And when it doesn't, it costs a lot of time, materials and sanity.

Meanwhile, here: have some red flowers. The high desert is still in bloom.

Desert Sunset

Si-i-g-g-h-hhh... once again, it's been hard to find the time to post anything on my blog! I almost forgot how to log on!!

April can be a month when we get all kinds of fun weather here in the desert. And when we do, the effects both in the sky and on the land are magical.

So -- how 'bout a bee-yoo-tee-ful sunrise?

Energy Is Never Created or Destroyed

Energy is never created or destroyed. We've probably all heard that at some time in our lives. That may be true when it comes to physics, but I'm not convinced it's true when human beans are involved.

It's nice getting a regular paycheck, but it seems I don't have much energy left after preparing to teach or after I actually teach. (The subject is microbiology, in case you've forgotten). The idea of working on paintings seems overwhelming these days, and since the teaching position is on an as-needed basis (although the need lasts a semester, so it beats being a sub), I really don't know when/if I'll be teaching again.

For that reason, I really HAVE to keep painting and looking for ways to sell them. Even in this economy.

The semester ends in about five weeks. I'll have more time to paint then, and I hope I can keep from returning to panic mode. And we're still hoping to squeeze in a trip to Hawai'i later this year for our 25th wedding anniversary (and, of course, such a trip will add tremendously to my painting subject matter!)

2010 is going to be an interesting and different kind of year. I hope it'll be one in which I can create more energy!

Field Trip

I decided to take a little time and make a "field trip" to El Paseo in Palm Desert, CA. This street is the equivalent of Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills and features many different boutiques, restaurants and -- most importantly -- art galleries. (The gallery I'm in is located on El Paseo).

First, I stopped by the gallery I have paintings in to see how the owner is preparing for Thursday Art Walk (tonight), the last of the season. I was especially curious to see if he had rehung any of my work which, as of Valentine's Day, was mostly stashed away in a back room. Yesterday, only ONE painting was out -- and it wasn't hanging but was set on the floor leaning against a wall. In the back of the gallery.

It's obvious that people who come into this gallery aren't that interested in what I paint; otherwise, my work would have had its former places of honor in the front window and on the walls toward the front. Besides that, I asked if there was any interest in the last paintings I brought in, and he said no.

Maybe I'm not in the right gallery, since everything else the owner has in there is more contemporary and VERY colorful compared to MY stuff. I mentioned I might remove the excess paintings from his backroom during the summer, but now I'm leaning toward pulling out altogether.

But where to go after that? I don't know. Most of the field trip was to see how the other galleries are doing, what they've been selling (if anything) and if I'd find a "good fit" somewhere else.

Well, most of the art I saw was contemporary, whether or not the paintings had recognizable subjects. Most were blindingly colorful -- pure reds and other warm, almost fluorescent colors. Apparently, the buyers have been people from extreme winter states like Minnesota and the Dakotas and -- especially -- from the plains provences of Canada. The Canadian dollar has strengthened considerably as the US experienced monetary problems, and people who spend so much time in a long-lasting season of gray, featureless winter want COLOR in their homes and offices. Traditional realism isn't about zonking color. So what's an artzy one to do?

Only two galleries had works that made me feel like I might fit in. One is headquartered in Carmel, and they seem to like my work, but I'm not pricey enough for them. (Understandable -- they pay a lot of rent for their locations!) The other gallery has a long list of artists who want to get in, and besides -- their work was rather colorful, too.

Conclusion: maybe this area just isn't my market. I may have to go further east -- maybe all the way to the East Coast -- to find buyers. Other classical painters have told me the East seems to be populated by art lovers who are more sophisticated in their taste than the West Coast, where people want to be cutting edge and trendy.

How does an impoverished artist fight a situation like that?

La Quinta

La Quinta is one of the towns east of Palm Springs, CA. It's considered a well-off community and a desirable place to live. For me, one of the main attractions are the hills to the south of the town.

The photo shows a distant mountain range (the Santa Rosas) with smaller outcroppings in front. The outcroppings are incredibly attractive to me. I love the rugged, jagged edges of those hills, and they're as impressive up close as they are in the distance.

I've taken many photos of these hills, from far away to being in the midst of them -- and from points in between. While the California desert doesn't feature many hills like these, there's something about them that exemplifies the California desert. Foregrounds can range from sand dunes to ocotillo-studded rocky bajadas. As you might expect, springtime color can add even more to views of the mountains.

Even though I'm slowed considerably in painting the desert these days, I predict I'll be making more paintings of the La Quinta area and those fantastic sawtooth hills!

During the Aftermath

I wasn't sure how I would continue making paintings during the aftermath of getting my P/T teaching job. But I've found that while I'm not working on art as hard, I'm making art that I might never have gotten around to if I tried to continue making money exclusively with my paintings.

It's actually nice not to have that pressure, especially considering art just isn't selling around here. My gallery hasn't sold anything of mine for almost a year, and it sounds like his sales are pretty low overall these days.

Meanwhile, other artists have suggested using this time of financial recession/depression to try new things. Then, if/when things get better, I'll be positioned to move forward with awesome work that I could complete without the pressure of cranking out artwork that may not be my best.

So, during the aftermath, what painting I've done is some of my best ever. In addition, I'm convinced staying focused on desert-themed paintings is probably not the best way to go. I don't think the market for desert landscapes is that big anymore.

Expect to see lots of non-desert items appearing on this site. The aftermath appears to be a good thing for my paintings!

The Vast Spaces

Yesterday I spent the day in Anza-Borrego Desert State Park, which is northeast of the Palm Springs area. I had two items on the agenda: look for wildflowers, and visit an art show that I've done myself a number of times.

Flowers -- well, not as many as I was hoping for, but there were a few spots with color (as well as other petal peepers!):



The art show was fun. Many of the people I've met over the years have been other art show folks, and often the only times I see them are at art shows. And since I wasn't set up there trying to sell paintings, I was free to roam around, visit friends and do some serious catching up and networking.

By the time I left, the sun was getting low in the western sky, and I passed the spot in the Park that beautifully illustrates my tagline: The Vast Spaces of the Southwest.



In late afternoon, the textures of the distant mountains, the miles of open landscape peppered with ocotillo display much of what I love about the special places called the desert. I've never seen this area colored with the blooms of spring, but the spaces say all that needs to be said. Black-and-white infrared was more than enough to archive the moment and the feeling.