seasonal repose
After four years, I did it.
I submitted two photographs to a public exhibition.
First time ever.
Aside from this site, I have rarely shown anyone
who wasn't a friend or a member of my family
any of my art work.
Quite new to the world of making art,
I have had to be persuaded to describe myself
using the term "artist".
I have admired the creations and photographs
of others for a long, long time.
But, due to many disappointing experiences in elementary school art
about a million years ago,
I thought of myself as someone who was incapable
of such a thing.
At best, I could follow directions in a sewing, quilting or knitting pattern.
To me, following directions did not amount to art.
I got tired of all that somewhere in my late 50s.
People I knew and loved were venturing forth
into creativity with oils, pastels, paper, fiber, and photography.
They were having so much fun.
I could no longer resist.
Our town hosts a yearly benefit for the arts in our schools
called the 10x10 Art Exhibit and Sale.
Artists in the community enter pieces in the show,
and people come for miles around to see what's "up".
It has come to be in the last several years that the exhibit
has outgrown its original single venue.
These days, it spills from the local library
to the church next door and back again.
This year, instead of three works,
submitters can only enter two,
due to the growing number of entrants.
Not a juried exhibit, everyone's submission will be on the walls.
Each piece is in a 10"x10" format.
Each is framed in a plain black metal frame.
Each is offered for sale at the same price,
with half of that going to the arts program
and half to the artist.
I have no fancy notions of selling anything.
The accomplishment here is taking the leap.
Having to prepare a couple of photos ready to be framed,
and write an "artist's statement" and bio,
and open myself up to the risks
of other people's judgment.
All childhood stuff. All very real and powerful, nevertheless.
What I wouldn't have done to have had Christie from Fine Lines
for an art teacher. What a difference it would have made
to my sense of self.
But I'm not done yet.
Some things just need to be refused, overcome, laid to rest,
you know?
If you are in the Midcoast Maine area the last week in Sept.
come on down to the Brunswick Library and
St. Paul's Episcopal Church
to see the show.
It never disappoints!
puddle moon
