What Did I expect?
I knew that I was at the beginning of a very creative period in my life. I started to paint again after more than ten years of virtually nothing. I was going to tackle a new medium (Acrylic Paint) but more importantly, I was going to tackle what being an “artist” meant to me. I was going to express myself almost entirely through the paint, brush, and canvas. I thought, at the very least, someone might be interested in another artist’s journey.
I was already 20 paintings into it before I posted the first one. The first painting posted was the first painting I did and the last was the last. Everything in-between was jumbled up and displayed in no special order. The 70-plus works that weren’t posted were not inferior in any way to the ones that were. I simply posted whatever painting I felt like posting that week and for the most part, I tried to mix them up.
I needed some feedback. I was confident I would get some here. I promised to read every comment and consider it but, in the end, I did not let them affect me too much. My family is supportive but, let’s face it, after a hundred paintings, what’s left to say? I knew that eventually, the same would be true for OS. No matter how many different styles I tried, there is only so many comments that you can offer. I decided to keep the writing and responding to the bare minimum hopefully indicating that I would like to have you react to the piece as a work of art. I appreciated all the comments about John Lennon, for instance, but I only really paid attention to comments that were specifically about the painting itself.
So, it was like: Here it is. What do you think?
Do you wonder what it might be like to offer written submissions on a mostly-artist website? I’m not sure what sort of comments I expected but a simple “I like it” was always welcome. I did notice that the amount or quality of the comments never depended on the amount of work that was put into the piece. Maybe one of the more disappointing aspects of this endeavor was when one of my favorite paintings or one that I really put a lot of effort into (sometimes close to 40 hours) would be greeted with maybe a half-dozen comments. This was, almost predictably, balanced out with more comments about some very minor efforts, in my estimation.
I was hoping for more comments from the other OS artists and I appreciate so much the generosity of the comments I did receive from those artists that did take the time to do so. I always included a close-up detail because you could not possibly know what that painting looked like up close when a 48 inch canvas is shrunken to 5 inches. I know that seeing a painting up close is one of my favorite aspects of going to see them in museums or galleries.
Marcus Rothko - detail from One In a Long Line Of... - painting number 52
There were offers to purchase some of these works of art. But I was not about to put prices on these paintings just yet. I think it is better for me to create my own website where they can be displayed properly and the prices displayed alongside. To me they are worth a million dollars each but I recognize that is not the neighborhood they belong in. I think I will be realistic about that. It’s thrilling to me to sell one of my paintings – just the thought of it hanging somewhere and being enjoyed by people I don’t even know – absolutely thrilling. But it always makes me sad when they go.
Was it a Success?
In my mind it was. I am a different painter now. I love acrylics and I feel bold enough to claim that I am just now entering my best period. I burn inside to create something of visual beauty that will blow the back of your head off, massage your heart and dazzle your eyes as so many of the great works of art have done to me. I feel it coming.
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