I moved into my new studio a year ago last month. This studio is one of 5 and part of a gallery which is open to the public 6 days per week. The past year has been an interesting experience and I’ve learned some things along the way, and I’ve had some of my ideas and preconceptions of what it would be like, somewhat altered.

It’s really a 2-sided coin. On the one hand, working with other artists, in an atmosphere of camaraderie and common interests and goals, has been marvelous. I really enjoy the company and the exchange of views and ideas. It can be a very stimulating environment.

On the other hand, being in a gallery atmosphere and meeting lots of people has been a double-edged sword. It’s great to meet people and have a chance to show and discuss your work with them. It’s exposure, and we all need lots of exposure, that’s for sure.

BUT, and unfortunately there is a big but, having lots of people come into the gallery also means that you are continuously interrupted; it makes it difficult to concentrate and you sometimes have to stop in the middle of a wash or a step that really needs to be done in one operation. So that can cause problems.

The other thing is that you find yourself having to become a salesperson. And I have found out that being an artist and being a salesperson are two very different things. I am not a salesperson and do not enjoy being one. I do shows and festivals and enjoy talking to people during those events, which usually last only a couple of days. To do it on a permanent basis, day after day, has not been my cup of tea.

I have gained a whole new perspective on gallery owners and dealers and what is required to run a successful business and to put together shows that are interesting and varied. The bottom line for me is that I like being an artist and I would prefer to leave the selling part to those who are better suited to it. To run a successful gallery, you have to cultivate a client base of art lovers and collectors who continue to come into your gallery and who actually buy art. Having a lovely gallery and lots of visitors is not enough; if no one buys the work then you are spending your time, energy and money on a pointless venture. That, after a while, affects your drive, your purpose and your motivation.

So, after a year, I have decided to move my studio back home where I can work at my own pace and in my own time, with as few or as many interruptions as I choose to have. And while I will remain associated with the gallery, I will no longer have my studio there. It was an interesting learning experience.

Suzette

"There is no companion that is as companionable as solitude." (Henry David Thoreau)

Have you ever looked at a work in progress and thought ’this painting is not working and I really don’t like it’? It happens to me all the time. There seems to be stage in the painting process, about three quarters of the way, when a painting reaches that ugly stage. Fortunately, I know that if I keep going, it usually comes together and I’m pleased with the results in the end. That’s when I know the painting is finished.

My food for thought today is this: ’When is it time to stop?’ When do you keep going and push through the ugly stage to find the beautiful painting you’re after, OR when do you admit that it’s a lost cause and it’s time to give up? Because, whether we like it or not, there are times when nothing we can do will salvage a painting that’s not working out, and we can save ourselves a lot of heartache by giving up and starting over.

HOWEVER, having said that, I believe that there is a great learning opportunity here for those brave enough to try it. What this calls for is ’bravura’, doing bolder and bolder things, things you’ve never tried before, until one of 2 things happen: I either create a very original piece of work, or it becomes garbage and gets thrown away or painted over. Either way it’s a useful exercise as you let your imagination run wild, you let your creativity take over, without judgement, as carefree as a child, and, trust me, wonderful things can happen in that state of mind. If nothing else, it’s a great creativity exercise. I highly recommend it.

The other side of the coin of course is this: When is it time to stop, when you have a wonderfully fresh and spontaneous piece that works just the way it is? Why continue and lose that freshness and spontaneity that you can never recover? That’s always a tough call for an artist and we must be on the lookout for those moments and not lose them just because we can’t see the forest for the trees.

So that’s the balancing act for us artists, not stopping too soon versus not going on too long. Not an easy thing.

"A painting is always finished before the artist thinks it is." (Harley Brown)

Suzette