It was a gray day here the other day with flurries of snow, bone cold, and forecasts of a big storm on its way. On this cold day in winter, a small group of artists came together to draw.
These are local artists who try to gather once a week for life drawing and in the winter, up here in the mountains, it can be iffy. Would the model be able to make it from Taos? Were there enough people to cover her cost? But they gathered and they invited me.
Lately I’ve been seriously pondering the question: To paint or not to paint. What’s the point, really? After all I’m turning 65 this year. Maybe I should just retire. I’d never thought of retiring before. I always thought that, like Picasso said, death would simply interrupt my work. Painters don’t retire, right? We paint on. But that’s what’s been on my mind.
And then came this day when I was one of the people who got together to draw. Just to draw. Not to sell, not to impress, not to compete, but to sharpen our sight, to practice how to see, to have that chance to capture one particular line just exactly so, whether that “so” means to sketch it, paint it, simplify it, abstract it…
And my heart silently shifted back. Back to one who wants to believe again—even if that belief is somewhat fragile—in the making of marks on paper or canvas, just to be making marks. Much like Mary Oliver’s goldfinches who, “… strive/melodiously/not for your sake/and not for mine/and not for the sake of winning/but for sheer delight and gratitude…”
We can talk about art sales being off since the recession hit and that gallery representation in Santa Fe is hard to come by, but here in the mountains of northern New Mexico, within this small cluster of artists who came together to draw, art is still vibrant and very much alive, for its own sake and nothing more. And that really is what it’s all about, isn’t it?
Love to you all,
Jeane
Jeane, thank you for this post – exactly what I am struggling with at this point in my life! I live in a houseful of unsold work and wondering whether there is any reason to continue adding to it all… One of my good friends reminded me (again) that this is who I am, what I do…still, it is something I think about. Best to you!
Ah, yes, I know the feeling well. That’s a wise friend you have there. Let’s BOTH listen to her and to the inner murmurings of our artist souls. Be well.
My urge to holler “Noooo – you can’t stop!” is so self-serving but I’ve truly benefited from the transitions you’ve shared in your work (that I admire so much) and life … it’s been both a balm and encouragement to me, the “just do it” need to get back into painting (instead of sketchbooks). I’ve never been close to showing or selling and perhaps that’s for the best, given Sandy’s and your experience with the local market so far. If I had stacks of cash I’d send it your way in exchange for the privilege of living with and among your pieces. Thank you for everything. Oh wait a minute … will you be able/willing to retrieve/post the paintings posted on the old blog site? I miss them, need them ….
What very, very sweet sentiments you express in this note to me. Thank you. In fact YOU have been MY balm today on a day when that was sorely needed. Thank you so much! You should be able to see all the posts with paintings, either by scrolling down and choosing the “next page” option until you find them or by going into the “Artistic Process” or “Artist Profiles” topics. There they should be. Please let me know if you don’t find them there and I’ll see what Adam has to say about that. So wonderful that someone out there “needs” my work. Thank you for telling me. It means more than you can know.