Do you fall into that trap? You want to make what you want to make, and you do. And then it doesn’t sell. And then you cart it from show to show to show. And then you discount it and it still doesn’t sell. And then you donate it. And I know that I shouldn’t be starting sentences with And.
So, you start to doubt yourself, your work, your business model, the heavens above conspiring against you. You start to go down the dreaded “what will people buy?” road and it starts to dictate what you make. If it doesn’t, it is still there nagging at you and you have to constantly battle it. Total creative buzz kill.
This comes up because I saw a cross-stitched doily today and thought, yeah. I want to make a micro mosaic like that. I love words, cliches, puns, etc. Things that can be expressed succinctly (not that you can tell from the way I ramble). Something small that sticks with you and makes you think. Deep things that are worthy of a facebook share.
If it were up to me, my fridge would be covered with catchy magnets saying things like “Don’t make me use my crabby mommy powers”. But, it’s not up to me…my fridge is stainless and magnets don’t stick.
Then I think, who in the Sam Hill would buy a micro mosaic saying that, let alone at the price necessary for the time consuming process and sheer genius of my technique? I mean, would YOU pay $400 for something 3″ x 3″ that says “Oh, hells to the no”? What if hells was in italics for added emphasis? Maybe if it was on a stick or had some glitter?
You see, I have this perception, this dream of making high end pieces. “Worthy” pieces. I have the vision of seeing it hanging in custom homes. A one-woman show in a gallery with stark white walls, wooden floors and little descriptive placards next to them. And then I think of the content that really makes me, myself, smile. And the two just do not jibe. When thinking of who in the world would buy this work, is it wrong for the phrase that I learned last week, “white trash with too much cash” to pop into my head? Either that or really discerning collectors who know what they’re looking at and would buy a toilet wrapped in brown paper and twine. Right?
Maybe I need to start idolizing
James Kinkaid Thomas Kinkade instead of Andy Warhol. Or stop thinking about it and just go make stuff.
Thank you for allowing me to take your time while I puzzle this out. Some day, the vision WILL come to fruition. After all, it’s just time invested, right? What do I have to lose? But first, I will do the enlightened thing and make my reclining Buddha mosaic that I promised on facebook.