Very nice art, and wonderful words, Cecil. I appreciate this support for the struggle of being an artist. It is easy to get discouraged in the face of failure. Your analogy about how nature super charges her chances for success with so many seeds, is delightful. I find this bigger picture perspective liberating and energizing. My father, too, was far too young when he took on the job. I appreciate wise father advice wherever I find it. Thank you, sincerely.
Another great essay from you. Failure is part of the process yet I think how often I've been disgusted with myself when a piece doesn't turn out as I visualized it. I've learned to sketch it out on paper, then figure out how to actually make it (attach, engineer the hows). I'll play with the various elements for a while and in doing so may (or most likely) change things as I go in order to make it right. As I step into the gallery space where I put all the finished pieces, I know which pieces I am 'in love' with and which pieces I'm not. Not that the 'not in love with' pieces are actual failures, but I might hold them back from showing them. Sometimes I may even redo them, or take them apart and the pieces will become parts of new work.
Yes I have that feel of which ones I like best but I usually keep everything at this point because sometimes I later see an idea that I want to explore in a piece I didn’t quite appreciate at first because it had something different in it. So I don’t judge them for a very long time but I do eventually notice a lack of personal interest in certain ones or never really develop a strong connection. On the other hand, I sometimes think I made those pieces for somebody else - some collector - that loves them. So who can gage that part?
Yes, your comment makes a lot of sense. I do have a weird fondness for the pieces I'm not in love with, and I need to not compare them to the ones I do have that connection with. It's interesting how or why we create what we create and where our minds and heart are at when the process takes place and what or how our mood affects the work.
Another thing. Thinking with my perspective of a lifelong archive idea as a singular work, it is about the capture of as many moments and ideas as possible for fleshing out the archive with as much detail as possible. A good reason and logic to keep everything. But some artists are more interested in their ‘brand’ and trashing or editing out things that they don’t think fit their reputation or image or historical positioning. After all, writers edit constantly. Trimming the fat so to speak.
I still have many pieces from shows that didn't sell from years ago. Some have been damaged, some are in great condition, some may end up in new pieces. They've all been catalogued so there's a record of them. I do like your words, "Trimming the fat" regarding keeping the good stuff.
Very nice art, and wonderful words, Cecil. I appreciate this support for the struggle of being an artist. It is easy to get discouraged in the face of failure. Your analogy about how nature super charges her chances for success with so many seeds, is delightful. I find this bigger picture perspective liberating and energizing. My father, too, was far too young when he took on the job. I appreciate wise father advice wherever I find it. Thank you, sincerely.
Great perspective Cecil! I wholeheartedly agree and that’s what keeps me going. When success and joy do come along, it’s that much sweeter.
Another great essay from you. Failure is part of the process yet I think how often I've been disgusted with myself when a piece doesn't turn out as I visualized it. I've learned to sketch it out on paper, then figure out how to actually make it (attach, engineer the hows). I'll play with the various elements for a while and in doing so may (or most likely) change things as I go in order to make it right. As I step into the gallery space where I put all the finished pieces, I know which pieces I am 'in love' with and which pieces I'm not. Not that the 'not in love with' pieces are actual failures, but I might hold them back from showing them. Sometimes I may even redo them, or take them apart and the pieces will become parts of new work.
Yes I have that feel of which ones I like best but I usually keep everything at this point because sometimes I later see an idea that I want to explore in a piece I didn’t quite appreciate at first because it had something different in it. So I don’t judge them for a very long time but I do eventually notice a lack of personal interest in certain ones or never really develop a strong connection. On the other hand, I sometimes think I made those pieces for somebody else - some collector - that loves them. So who can gage that part?
Yes, your comment makes a lot of sense. I do have a weird fondness for the pieces I'm not in love with, and I need to not compare them to the ones I do have that connection with. It's interesting how or why we create what we create and where our minds and heart are at when the process takes place and what or how our mood affects the work.
Another thing. Thinking with my perspective of a lifelong archive idea as a singular work, it is about the capture of as many moments and ideas as possible for fleshing out the archive with as much detail as possible. A good reason and logic to keep everything. But some artists are more interested in their ‘brand’ and trashing or editing out things that they don’t think fit their reputation or image or historical positioning. After all, writers edit constantly. Trimming the fat so to speak.
I still have many pieces from shows that didn't sell from years ago. Some have been damaged, some are in great condition, some may end up in new pieces. They've all been catalogued so there's a record of them. I do like your words, "Trimming the fat" regarding keeping the good stuff.
Great words of wisdom from a wonderful artist! Thanks Cecil!