Wednesday, December 16, 2015

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The weather is freezing. The sun was shining brightly all day and it was very pretty but the drop in temperature in the morning and in the night is intense. It's the time of year when you hear christmas carols everywhere you go, and people do complain about it---I think out of habit---but I've always loved christmas carols, with the exception of a few modern duet versions that force me to run across the room to turn the radio off. (Top of the can't-listen-to-it list is every single version of "Baby, It's Cold Outside")

The art world now is strange and scary. Galleries are having a hard time. I think it should encourage artists to do the work that is most meaningful to them, and not worry about what will 'sell', but that's just me. I've always thought that.  I thought everyone thought that, and it took me a while to realize they didn't. I have always been a slow learner. Before, when I lived in a town that revolved around plein air painting, everyone and their uncle were painting the same plein-air version of a local stone formation called  keyhole rock and selling the paintings---gradually they saturated the market and got to a point where keyhole rock paintings weren't selling as quickly as before. There was wailing and gnashing of teeth. So to fill in the gap, they cast their workshop nets wider and wider, to teach more paying students to paint keyhole rock just as they did, and that worked for a while. But  the students began selling their paintings of keyhole rock to the few people who didn't already have a painting of keyhole rock----their lower prices must have looked wonderful to  collectors who then looked at the original painters of keyhole rock and thought, "Goodness, how expensive when I can get a keyhole rock for 1/3 of that."

 I always thought it was odd that people clustered around keyhole rock painting it, like it was about to disappear. The whole town was interesting to behold, but that rock seemed to do it for people. Strange. I think I'm the one with the problem, because I never even thought about painting it. I just remembered, I did paint it once, but it was by acccident and I didn't know it till someone pointed it out. It was in a painting of the larger coast and someone said triumphantly, "Oh, I love keyhole rock!"......"That's not keyhole rock."......."Yes, it is."....."Where?".......A pointing finger: "There!".....It was true. It was small, but it was there, and I hadn't even noticed the rock had a hole in it, it was just a shape, a mark or something. Sometimes now at a show I will see a painting that I like, that someone did, and then I notice that keyhole rock is in there. Maybe it's not always on purpose that people paint it. 

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