Admittedly my art goes off in way too many directions at once. People who know art keep telling me that I need to stick to one thing. Well, to some degree I do … at least, seasonally.
In the rainy winter and spring I did a lot of expressionist paintings, often with a death theme. The sun is temporarily back now, so I have an opportunity to do some of my abstract work – which must be done outdoors, and I will also probably end up doing more Oregon landscapes. I probably should listen to my critics, but whatever style(s) I drop, I will also be alienating some collectors. I see it as a no-win situation. My critics say that every artist needs to be known as the person who does (x). Yeah, I know.
I’ve talked about this before. I think I get obsessed with what I’m doing and whether or not I’m doing something wrong when my energy level gets low – as it has been quite low lately.
My health problems have progressed somewhat so I’m finding myself more restricted. This, in turn, probably causes me to be introspective about my art.
Well, who knows what will happen. I’ve even put off getting ready for upcoming art shows. I just don’t know what I want to do anymore. Or perhaps I know but somehow can’t make myself do it.
It all comes back to art needing to be more than just art. And don’t kid yourself, it isn’t just me. Artists are a freakish lot, and pretty mental. I’m just one of those, really, if a whole lot smarter and deeper-thinking than your average schlock-producer.
As kid, they nicknamed me Univac… or The Retard, depending on who you asked. As an adult zealous religionist, they called me The Bulldog. Now I’m just a crazy artist trying to create meaning in a sea of meaninglessness.