Someone Out There

I came to my computer tonight, checking my e-mail more so out of habit than anything, but I got a wonderful surprise. I received an e-mail from a college student majoring in Art History and Art Conservation. She had stumbled across my site and sent an e-mail filled with compliments. I felt like I was reading a note from a dear friend, but I was hearing from a complete stranger. My art work had reached another, left an impact and moved someone enough to write to me. I can't tell you what that means to an artist, at least to me. I appreciate it. So thank you. Thank you for taking your time to write to me and for taking the time to look through my work and read my journal. Our many similarities made me smile and I wish you all the best in your artistic future. May you live with the courage to pursue your dreams.

What is happening?

This Saturday, November 12 is the Mattie Rhodes Center Mask & More Auction. I was introduced to the Mattie Rhodes Center through my Regional Manager at my old graphic design job. She is on the board. Knowing my interest in art, she encouraged me to make a mask to donate to the auction. But more importantly to the cause. The history of the Mattie Rhodes Center is pretty fascinating. Mattie at a very young age died and left $500 to the children of Kansas City. Today, the center offers art exhibits and classes to the youth of our city that would not have those opportunities otherwise. Needless to say I was happy to make a mask, and find myself looking forward to it each year.

As I made my mask for this year, I found myself reflecting on the sad reality that art is no longer being offered to our kids. My sister is a first grade teacher and they don't have art. THEY DON'T OFFER ART CLASSES! I just can't believe it! If we stop the creative encouragement at such a young age, why do we think they'll pick it back up as young adults? How many studies need to be done to prove the importance of art and music in the development of our children. Although I sound like an angry parent, I am not, I don't have kids. But I do feel passionate about the arts being offered to our young future. I hope it changes. I hope that our schools can stop making cuts in the fine arts department. I hope we as a society will stand up and say it isn't ok, so if our kids need to be exposed in other ways, we will do that.

If you are free this Sat. I would suggest going to the auction. It is at Rees Masilionis Turley Architecture, 908 Broadway, KCMO. It is a wonderful evening of food, live music and art. What else is really cool about the auction is not only are local artists featured, but the children that attend the Mattie Rhodes art programs all make masks as well. You would be surprised at the talents and variety shown. The masks are wonderful and this year they have included paintings and jewelry as well. All proceeds go to the Mattie Rhodes Center to continue its outreach to the youth of our city. It is a wonderful cause and should be a great evening!

Someday...

I am sure that my thoughts are nothing new. I am sure that many artists find themselves thinking about similar situations. Somedays I find myself more positive in my thinking. I believe that my paintings will be hanging in a gallery (hopefully my own at some point), that I will have a solo art show in New York City and that my paintings sell out in that show ( I have watched Great Expectations too many times; Ethan Hawke's first exhibit sells out). I have all kinds of thoughts like that. Good thoughts. And other days I struggle.

Sometimes I feel like I run an orphanage and my paintings are the children. I want to find them good homes, I want them to belong in someone's life and make a difference. I want them to touch their parents' hearts, to be an extension of themselves. I want someone to walk past one and feel like they can't live without that, they must take it home. Somedays I fear I will be surrounded by my paintings forever, that my "children" will never be "adopted". What if they don't touch someone's life? What if they don't find their match? What if I am Miss Hannigan and Daddy Warbucks only comes for Annie and the other 32 paintings surround me forever?

I know I need to move past the fears of those thoughts. Doubt stops the progress. Most days I continue to work on new paintings and ideas. I can only control my efforts to continue painting. I can only control the vision that I have and put it onto canvas. The safe part of my job is painting what others ask me to paint. I come into a home and paint the requested mural or painting to match an exhisting decor. The scary part for me is when I put myself out there with my personal work. What then? Who, if anyone likes that? Is it speaking to anyone besides me?

I will never stop painting, it is like oxygen to me. And I will keep my goals out in front of me, reaching toward them at all times. But if I haven't been heard from in a while, check my studio, the pile of paintings may have buried me alive. Until then, I look forward to the day my paintings hang in a gallery, and to my first solo art exhibit, and to my first entrance into the Plaza Art Fair, someday...