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Last night I ordered a pizza from my favorite "major chain", and since I was recovering from some medical testing, I ordered online to have the food delivered.  The satisfying thin crust, two topping edition that I have ordered for many MANY years was nowhere to be found online.  Instead I found every variation known to pizzadom, and some they had only discovered in the past 30 days!  All kinds of crusts, all kinds of toppings, all kinds of variations on sauces and sizes -- it was like they were playing a customer lottery - making an attempt to please everyone.  I ordered something I thought was close enough to my usual, and in short order the deliveryman was on my doorstep.  Sounds good, right?  It wasn't.  The pizza was overly toasted, skimpy on the cheese, and the tried and true sauce that kept me coming back had become some mixture of peppery tomato that was more like pepper and less like tomato.  I was so disappointed!  I told my perplexed husband that I would not be ordering there again.  It just wasn't what I was looking for, and my stand-by, dependable pizza was no more.

What does this tell us about the business and creation of art?  When you have a method of interpreting landscapes in a certain way, especially if it has become pretty well known and accepted by the public, do you have anything to gain by stretching that interpretation?  Do you truly have anything to gain by shifting styles, colors, "flavors" if you will?  I know fellow artists who struggle to find their own style, going with whatever is the popular and trendiest manifestation of creation, hoping that they will hit on something that will mark success.  They do a bit of this, a bit of that, hoping to do SOMETHING that someone will connect with.  In the end, the viewer is left with a hodgepodge of art that really doesn't satisfy, and in honesty, doesn't satisfy the artist either!  

The style I work in now is one I enjoy, and I've worked long to develop it.  It has sold in the past, and continues to do so.  It doesn't challenge social mores, or have a political agenda...I just strive to reflect the beauty of what I see.  Does that mean I don't strive to try new things?  Not exactly.  My painting time is very limited with my current lifestyle, so I spend it where it results in income, at least for now.  I'll have time in the coming days to branch out and have some fun with the paintbrush. I already have mental ideas I am looking forward to experimenting with.  Maybe I'll even come up with something that is both personally satisfying and commercially successful. The bottom line remains: "if I want to sell my work NOW, what do I offer? "  

My past pizza giant has become so scattered, that they have lost their way.  I don't know their business prospects, but I realize there is much competition.  It has become obvious that they are struggling to hit on the "next big thing" before their competitors.  What they do not realize is that they are losing their hardcore customers because they are diluting their focus. The same can be said for artists who cater to every trend that comes along.  

My website has images of a lot of subject matter and thinking on these things has prompted me to go back to edit, to streamline what I present. While I am proud of my work, some of my earlier abstract work, and other subject matter that has sold, it really doesn't align with what I am doing now.  I don't want to end up like the pizza place -- so scattered that the meaning is lost.  Sometimes it is better to do something very well, and market it better!

Artists use varying methods of creating a connection with viewers.  It might be contrast in color, texture, or subject.  Perhaps it is through scale, very large or very small.  Maybe it comes through the art material itself - glass, metal, wood.  But that connection is important, for without it, the artwork becomes a solitary exercise between artist and art. Collectors (major and casual) who connect with artwork buy artwork.  A simple concept, right?

In the capturing of a scene, it is sometimes easy to forget that we are not simply replicating what we see, but infusing it with emotion and a certain level of magic. The artist is creating a world where they control the light, land, and the way the wind blows!  There is more than focusing on perspective, more than color and line. Creating an atmosphere that connects to viewers is critical to making the art speak. The observer becomes part of the work.

When I have been away from the lowcountry (so often my subject matter), I feel the need to recharge my emotional batteries and go back. I soak up the scenery, the smells of the marsh, the way the mists hang over the river in the early morning, the crunch of the crushed oyster shell trails.  When the easel is before me, those experiences and images come forward and onto the canvas.  I'm wringing out the emotional sponge. Along with those painterly impressions come the love of the land, the connection to what makes it special. A postcard image is not what I'm aiming for -- it's capturing the mists, the long light of dusk, and the morning glow of sunrise.  It is taking my viewer along a sandy road on a long walk.

The life of a working (and selling) artist should be one of balance in being true to what and how you create, and the valuable commodity you have to share. When your art finds a home, and financial reward comes long, the light bill gets paid, and the next order of brushes is covered. It is a happy consequence of being able to illustrate the unspoken, to capture a moment of the mind, and find someone who sees the connection.  Often, a client will look at a piece and say "I feel like I am there".   Art is speaking to heart. That the client is willing to part with money to take that treasure unto themselves is the ultimate compliment. 

But it could be that it matches the couch.  Keep grounded!