Rich Sigberman Art & Illustration 90

I'm in a group that espouses balance in taking a mind/body/spirit/heart approach. It's a great idea, and I can certainly use the work in all areas. It's a best bet to have a happy, healthy, fulfilling life.

And, there is a point where I begin to wonder if I'm all that capable of it. Doing art full time is pretty fulfilling, and pretty intense.......that it has its frustrations is a given, and anyway, what doesn't?

Of late, I've thrown myself into a variety of art jobs, and one or two abstracts that were not commisisoned. I'm struck by my own versatility, and how the moment I pick up that brush, I feel like a different person, one who is in an alpha state. It tells me that I'm doing what comes most naturally, and doing it with a lot of concentrated energy. I can do this most of my waking hours, to the exclusioin of exercise and people. I'm not saying that's a good thing.

Visiting an old piece of art and working on it again, or recreating it, is an interesting experience. It's like going to an diary page from years ago and suddenly reliving where you were at that moment, only it's not quite the same. In this past week, I recreated an abstract tryptich piece I made a few years ago, and also worked on an excellent commercial piece whose purpose had changed as the relationshhip with the client did. In the first case, I had to really toe the line, as the abstracts I do usually have a lot of spontaneity to them; not this time as I had to stick to the old work. In the latter piece, I cut out the logo references and replaced them, and also there were some interesting memories that were stirred up. It's an awfully good piece of cartoon art, though, and it deserves to be seen.

If anything is coming through as a theme to this writing, I think it's a quiet sort of pride in the art I make, and the fact that I make it my living and my craft. If I devoted nearly as much time and diligence to marketing, I'd be generating more income. It's something that I need to consider doing.

I've come to realize that my limitations, vision, vitality, and sense of purpose are all pretty limited. I tend to keep nearly all people at some distance too. In short, a hermitic existence seems to work all too well for me, just drawing and painting away, preferably at art that I know are commissioned pieces .

Is that enough? Is that all I want out of life? I'm now 55, and wondering about a few things. I've put all my somewhat limited energy into art and music, and sometimes that's great. But it's been to the detriment of all sorts of other potential pursuits and possibilities. I seem to want to live small and I don't know why that is.

I think that's all for today.

"Efforting" is a phrase we use around here to denote trying oh-so-hard to make something happen, usually fruitlessly. I'm trying to generate income right now, and it just doesn't always happen just because I say it's time.

Yesterday, I was all excited to be going to a store that will be opening soon. They need a logo, or so they said they did, and I was referred to them. Their name is to be "Arelcchina" or Harlequin to you.....to make a long story short, I did about an hour or two's worth of research and sketching to bring them, to ensure that I would have something appropriate to show, and to show initiative and enthusiasm. It didn't work.

I knew from the moment the meeting began that it was a dud, and I was somewhat humiliated as they hemmed and hawed between themselves, showing me that they were not in agreement, that they had not communicated with each other, and that I was using my time unwisely. When I left, I was muttering to myself a lot. I was mad at them and mad at myself for investing too much time into it prematurely. And, of course, there would be no money for me.

Another job is going very slowly, with all sorts of revisions in the planning stage. It is with my best client, and it will happen, but not fast enough for me to have a cash flow this week. I'm trying real hard to make this one happen too. It's like banging my head against the wall , sometimes.

Two days ago, I completed an abstract, and the final touches really brought it all together successfully. I even had a perfect frame for it, and it looks great. It was all done with ease, enjoyment, and inspiration - but there is no money involved, at least not immediately. Too bad the money part of the equation seems like such a struggle, but it's an age-old issue and not one exclusive to me. I try to straddle the worlds of commercial and so -called "fine art" and do it pretty well, but not all the time. This week is one of those "not all the time " weeks.

Remember that Joni Mitchell song? I don't know if that was the title, but it addressed her guilt at listening to a street musician and enjoying his playing "real good for free" while she got well paid for her music. Guilt doesn't make it, Joni - but it's a good song.

So, I've been noticing some sort of backward movement of late, as exemplified by a ton of ads on Craig's List, that ask artists to do work for "no compensation" but for "exposure", or "building your portfolio" , or to share in all those profits that will be coming one of these days. And, I wonder why so many people think artists should work for nothing? Does it play into the "starving artist" cliche? And, why would any artist fall for these lines? I hate to see people get taken advantage of by vague promises and implications that "exposure" will lead to BIG MONEY JOBS! As far as I can tell, exposure leads to frostbite.

So, I wrote a little paragraph in today's Craig's List exhorting other fellow artists to avoid falling into this age-old trap, and not permit themselves and their work to be taken so lightly. I didn't write it to get responses, but more or less to vent, and maybe to change some nieve artist's mind who may be vacillating about whether or not he should do some project for free. If I change but one person's mind, and get them to avoid working for nothing, then I'll be happy with my contribution to the art world.

Yes, I did it too. Years ago, I did some 25 one panel cartoons for some guy who had an idea illustrating puns. Of course, it was a ton of work for me. He said he'd work hard to market them, but he didn't, giving up after a few rejections. It was a waste of time. I've also done enough jobs that had a high enough profile to give me plenty of exsposure, and rarely , if ever, has this exposure lead to anything greater. That's been my experience; maybe it's been different for others.

Hey, artists out there: don't permit yourself and your work to be exploited!

My Aunt Sylvia said to me, "You better go see him soon....", the implication being clear that if I didn't go to New Jersey in the next month or two to see my Father , it might be too late. My retort to her was, "We never talked up to this point, what's going to change if I go there now?". That might seem bitter to some, but to me it was a fairly practical reply, devoid of emotion. She stammered a bit and didn't have much of an answer to that one. She knew that I had a point, and if there was nothing emotional to draw me to make the 3000 mile trip, then there was no particular point in my going "soon".

My Father has early Alzheimer's Disease. His body has betrayed him; he can barely walk, is incontinent, grouchy when he's awake, which is not all that much, and mostly mum. He has become, more or less, an 85 year old baby, with similar needs and emotional skills. It's not so much though what he has become that bothers me, but the relationship we had leading up to now. Basically, there was not much of one. And that's the reason I have little emotional pull to visit him now.

Without boring you with particulars, I'll just say that we seemed to have little in common , and that for many years I wanted the recognition and appreciation he was unable to express. Of course, he was like this with everyone, but as a child I didn't know that. We did have one thing in common, and that was his swing era music. I really enjoyed those 78s!

Before I could read, I had memorized the designs and colors of the labels, so that I pretty much knew what was on each record. I would press my head up agaisnt the big speaker in the Magnovox (my parents still have it, although they turned it into a liquour cabinet years ago), and listen carefully, especially when the speaker would vibrate from trombones coming in. Prez Prado's "Cherry Pink and Apple Blossom White" , albeit post swing-era, made a big impression on me for the vibration in the speaker, the cha-cha rhythm, and the changing parts of the tune. So, now and then, Dad and I would talk about swing music, jazz a bit, and the fact that he totally ignored black bands, like Ellington and Basie. Oy gevalt!

What I wanted a great deal from my parents was a sense of confidence and worth, that I was good, that my art was good, and that I could do what I wanted to in this world. I'm still working on it.