Category Archives: Rants and Laments

charity art auctions

thank you Sandy Donabed for posting this quote

and thank you Mat Gleason, an Art Critic for the Coagula Art Journal,  for writing it —

There is a tradition of auctioning original works of art donated by artists to raise money for charitable causes. There are many good causes that hold such events. No matter how good the causes, though, I have come to the conclusion that artists must stop donating to every single one of them.
Don’t ever donate your art to a charity auction again. Half a century of charity art auctions have changed the way collectors buy art. These fundraisers have depressed prices of art across the board and kept artists in a subordinate position that has no career upside or benefits.
Instead of tossing away another great artwork to a good cause, join the good cause of boycotting charity art auctions. When you join this cause …
•You stop taking revenue out of the art world
•You stop shifting art collector dollars to the bottomless pits of recurring annual Beg-A-Thons
•You don’t contextualize your art as being a synonym of pretentious panhandling
•You don’t announce that your art is worth low bids
•You don’t risk that your work will be publicly seen getting no bids
•You don’t empower strangers to devalue your artwork
•Most importantly, you stop publicly proclaiming that you give your art away
The argument against me is simple: Donations of art to charity auctions raise money for good causes and raise the profile of artists who put their art in the public eye. It is a good argument. It has worked well. This seductive sales pitch has pulled in countless millions of dollars over the past few decades.
Problem is, this argument has not lived up to its bargain. Sad news: Your profile got humiliated because the collector got such a bargain on your art. If your art was one of dozens of trinkets on a wall with a hundred other artists, your profile actually disappeared there in the crowd anyway.
I would love to hear the story of the artist whose career rocketed to success because he or she donated a work to a charity auction and this act alone tipped the first domino toward an avalanche of success coming his or her way. This narrative is always implied. I’ve never seen it happen.
Charity art auctions are the emptiest of promises to artists: you give us your work, you get nothing in return except a party invite to an event where you are a second class citizen. Watch as the price of what you really will let your work go for is nakedly advertised to the select group of people to whom your work is meant to be seen as rare and desirable.
Suppose you want to at least deduct a donation of your art to the charity, guess what? The law only allows an artist to deduct the cost of materials. Meanwhile a collector can buy your work for the minimum bid, have it appraised at its full retail value and donate it to some other good cause for that top dollar amount.
As for the merits of the infinite number of good causes out there, what is the value in giving up a painting that would sell for a thousand dollars retail in order to see it raise 50 Bucks for that cause? Pick one charity, donate generously and keep the collectors assuming that the price you ask at the gallery is the best and only price they are going to get.
Someone has to be the bad guy here, so you can blame me for inspiring you to donate cash to a good cause and to keep your art career safe from the bargain bin. Print this out and send it with your regrets to anyone asking you to devalue your work in the name of glamorizing their efforts on behalf of yet another worthy cause in a world of infinite and endless good causes. Tell them the art stops here.

(reminds me of the chagrin I felt at a silent auction years ago where I priced my donated art quilt at $150 or something and the neighboring junk bead bracelet was priced as “priceless”)

Remind me please!

Remind me, please, of what a cool sanctuary my basement studio is this time of year.  Remind me, please, of how I lose myself there, and how in the losing, find myself drinking from the Deep Well, and am sated.  Remind me, please, to skip the drama of articulating my misery next time (i.e., this time tomorrow when I go into the office — on SUNDAY — to make copies, scans, and collate?!!) and just go straight to Source.  No detours.  No sharing my misery with others (what a nice way to put THAT!).

Tomorrow, I will see Shakespeare in the Park on Boston Common with friends.  With that on the calendar, perhaps the Drudge Monster will not gain purchase.

P.S. I clipped the magazine page ages ago because I fell in love with the composition and colors.  When I saw, today, that it is a Winslow Homer, I thought, “well no wonder I love it!!!”  SOME things in life are constant.

Five Things (and a rant)

1.  Weather — Today is cold.  Steely sky, breath condensing.  Hat and glove weather.

2.  One thing I did well yesterday — Can’t think of anything.  I’ll have to come back.

3.  One thing I could have done better yesterday — Responded more neutrally when D. said he had a sore throat.

4. and 5.  Two things I’ll commit to doing today that I might not otherwise get done —

  1. download H1N1 vaccine forms and fill them out for the boys.  √
  2. cut out pictures for SoulCollage® gathering this weekend.  √

Back to doing something well.

What DID I do well yesterday?  I made a muslin angel that I ALMOST love — but I loved her better before I sharpied in a face, which on some level feels to me like I ruined her, so THAT doesn’t count.  Overcooked the pork chops, which were still okay, but can’t count that.  Spent hours on the phone finding out about Mass. Health, ECOB, COBRA for my sister… but all of that felt like a big muddle so that even though I came out of it with a couple of appts. and a located birth certificate, I wouldn’t put that on the list.  So, what then?

Can I count NOT being awful as doing something well?!!

Yesterday, I contained my rage waiting for 25 minutes at the post office.  There I was picking up a certified letter (on my sister’s behalf — so there’s THAT) that my postal carrier SHOULD have rung the bell for me to sign and receive at the house.  He had THREE chances to make life easy for me.

There it was, the first ‘real’ business day after Thanksgiving and presumably the beginning of package-mailing-season and my wonderful post office branch had ONE window open (the line was ten deep the entire time I waited).  Furthermore, (does this count as TWO things I did well?)  I did not call the postal carrier a liar when he claimed to have rung the bell and knocked when he delivered the three notices, which I know for a fact, he did not.  I was there when the mail hit the floor every single time and no bell was rung, no door was knocked.

And now, I’ll rant about this guy.

This is a postal carrier that defies the notion of service and veers into some creepy realm of vindictive laziness.  When he was assigned to our street, it was all anyone could talk about for weeks — what stupid, incredulous thing he had done THAT day (e.g., drop envelopes with checks in them onto the curb, not deliver mail because a rug-cleaning hose was threaded through the front door, refuse to bend over and pick anything up on a stoop because of a bad back, act like my dog is a vicious, postman-eating predator).  Many of us reported his errors to his supervisor, he was put ‘on probation’ for awhile, and now he is back to his tricks.

Though it serves no purpose, I spend a fair amount of time wondering, as he strenuously cuts corners and makes life difficult for everyone on the route, whether he is acting out of a generalized incompetence or out of some sort of shrewd and calculating desire to inflict misery on his customers.  I tend to think the latter.

Can’t I come up with ONE THING I DID well yesterday?  Oh, here — I added some machine stitching to my Full Moon in Taurus quilt, and miracle of miracles, located the missing moon, by, again miracle of miracles, cleaning up my work area a little.

Quilting Moonlight with Recycled Shirts

Still working on the Full Moon in Taurus quilt.  Here’s what I did instead of the lace/tulle treatment —

Better-moonlight

This is more in line with what I want for this quilt than the lace I initially placed.

 

lacey-moonlight

lace too bright

tracing-shadows

tracing to define house shadows

light-cut-to-size

shiny tulle for moonlight

shiny-tulle-shadows

better than just lace, but --

When I saw one of my prize new thrift shop purchases —

bub-shirt

I saw moonlight and shadows all over it.

Other things on table this week —

studio-table

I love the unintentional symbol of financial demise created by the shadow’s traced edge placed over the bull.

I have made a couple of journal quilts expressing my outrage at the greedy, stupid, short-sighted, ridiculous laissez-faire-AynRand-Republican-lessgovernment/regulation-is-godly types (though Democrats played their part) that created the financial catastrophe of ’08.

I am not done expressing my outrage.

A recent Vanity Fair with photos of some of the big players (all the back-door dealings with billions flung at institutions to ‘save’ the economy also make me crazy, even IF it was the right thing to do)… will provide fodder.

JQ-mar-9-full

Journal Quilt, March 2009

This is one of my Economy quilts — if you look at the brown and white toile of a harvest scene, you’ll see that I blotted out the peasant slaving away to earn his bread with a big black square.  (Since then, I drew the figure back with some thread)…  You’ll also see a precipitously declining zigzag representing the crash, as well as a Hawaiian deep indigo palm print cut and rearranged to create a feeling of a hurricane.  The little house in the upper right remains relatively untouched.  I suppose that could represent the fact that I am in my home, we are paying our mortgage, and the housing market where I live is relatively stable. This is a huge blessing, but does not quite counter the ten years of savings that we lost.

I want to stop feeling like that peasant.  No — I want to stop BEING that peasant.

Rant — “Resealable” Plastic Bags

scissor-drawer

Is it just me, or do other people have a hard time resealing the “resealable” bags that a vast variety of foods come packaged in these days?!!

If I was the type of person who sent emails or letters to Living Magazine or Cook’s Illustrated (two publications I enjoy, by the way), I would send in these items as some of my MOST indispensable kitchen tools:

  1. Kitchen scissors  (at least three pairs, because even in a house LITTERED with scissors, these babies walk!)(Actually, those are gardening scissors on the left above, because FOUR pair of black-handled kitchen scissors have gone missing).
  2. Rubber bands
  3. Clothes pins
  4. Zip lock bags.

Why these four items, you ask?  Because whoever thinks they’re making our lives easier with “resealable” bags are really NOT.

Actually, I don’t really know if they’re resealable because I can’t even get the fucking things OPEN.

Somewhere ( in the Boston Globe, maybe?), I read a funny comment by a columnist suggesting that the horrible, dangerous, impossible-to-remove-without-pliers-and-medication twist-ties that hold children’s toys to their packaging were designed by Asians specifically to drive American nuts… and I agreed.  But, think about it.  Toys are purchased now and then, with a big bunch of them during the holidays…  but, cheese or soft tortillas packages need opened every single week!  Sometimes, many times a week.

Anyway, long ago, I gave up trying to open and reseal those bags.  And, I don’t make a fumbling attempt and THEN bring out the scissors.  I just cut the bags open — snip, snip, snip.  If there is enough plastic left, I clamp it shut with a clothes pin or roll it closed and whip a rubber band around to act as a seal.  Sometimes, I shove the entire package into a zip lock bag (I like the gallon freezer size).

Not green enough for you?  Well, I DO wash the baggies.  And, sometimes, you can’t put a price or a carbon unit on sanity!