Favorite Paintings--When to Keep, When to Sell

"Summer Reflections" 18" x 24" in acrylic

     Every painting is a valuable learning experience, but some emerge as personal favorites. (Note that each photo caption is a link to earlier blog posts about that painting if you are interested in more background on any piece.) 

     Since we have down-sized our home in retirement and already have some treasured wall art, we have limited space for new pieces. If none of my babies left home, they would pile up under the bed and beyond, even though I am a slow painter with limited output. So, it has been delightful for me to connect with people who value a particular piece enough to purchase it. I have also enjoyed giving paintings as gifts--something I do carefully and only when I know for certain the recipient likes the work. 

"Castaway Island Cedars" 9" x 12" in acrylic

     However, a few particular paintings would be difficult to part with. They are not necessarily my best work; in fact some represent a creative struggle with a composition that stubbornly refused to come together for a time. Others feel like markers of growth and may have flaws or elements I would do differently now. My wonderful mentor, Linda Blondheim, taught me to value them all--from the earliest, awkward efforts on--because they represent the best I could create at the time.

"Look to the Hills, I" 18" x 24" in acrylic

     In a recent post, I showed you a painting called, "Hanna Park Heron", which found a wonderful home, but which I miss at times. Today's works are (at least for now) definitely not for sale. 

     Other artists (including the real professionals) seem to have varied viewpoints on keeping versus selling artwork. I have heard some say that "everything is for sale" and that it's foolish to hang on to anything, while others treasure certain works in what is often called "the collection of the artist". Of course, I am a simple hobbyist (though a serious one) and am fortunate not to have to make a living through my art (which would be a pitiful living, indeed!). That leaves me freer to choose what and when to sell.

     Why these three? The first is from 2014 and just pleases me no end; I particularly like the clear focal point, feeling of depth, and optimistic mood. The second is from a walk in a favorite preserve and feels serene and very typical of North Florida. The third is an earlier work, inspired by our 2006 revisiting of a lovely retreat center in New York and the memorable time we spent there with precious friends.

Question of the day: What special objects are your "keepers"--whether or not you made them?

     

Favorite Paintings from 2007 and 2008

     Thinking back on the relatively few years I have been painting, I browsed the photo file, viewing earlier works, and spent some time feeling grateful for this rewarding pursuit. A few favorite early paintings stood out, although each and every piece has some interesting features, and each represents creative learning and growing experiences.

     About nine years ago, a week-long painting course at the John C. Campbell Folk School in North Carolina awakened a whole new pleasurable undertaking for me. I had expected to relax, stretch my mostly analytical mind beyond its comfort level, have fun making some messes, and come home refreshed. Well, with an excellent teacher, all my expectations were met--except one. The paintings were not total messes at all. Not that they were great art, but they were pleasing to me beyond anything I had ever thought possible.


     Since then, I have learned much more and refined my painting skills with occasional local classes, guidance from my painting mentor, Linda Blondheim, and lots of practice. Painting is a whole new, unexpected source of joy.

     So, as I looked back, I  found three photos to show you, each representing a particularly pleasing achievement for me. Each work has elements I would do differently today, but they were the best I could do at the time, and that's good enough. No need to be overly self-critical about them (or to whine to you about the short-comings I see in them now). 

     It's interesting how differently artists view their own earlier work. In one painting class, a very good teacher said that she sometimes cringed when she saw some of the paintings she had sold years ago. She was somewhat ashamed of those earlier works. That seems a pity; clearly they appealed to the buyers (and probably to others). Further, regardless of other peoples' opinions, they represent a stage in her creative journey which contributed to where she is now. Linda Blondheim's attitude strikes me as healthier and more self-affirming; she enjoys looking back and values every one of her paintings, convinced that each was the best she could do at the time.

     So, without apologies, here are three personal favorites from 2007 and 2008. For each, clicking on the link will pull up an earlier post describing their creation in more detail. "Look to the Hills", an 18" x 24" landscape, interprets a meaningful visit to a retreat center in Warwick, New York. The 12" x 16" marsh scene recalls a delightful day kayaking with my husband and one son (and later became an engagement gift for our son and his fiancee). The 9" x 12" "Magnolia on Purple" was based on photos of magnolia blossoms on some neighbors' trees. Each work brought frustration as I confronted its challenges, and each was a significant learning adventure. 

     Life's journey is always surprising--what if I had listened to my conviction that I had zero artistic ability?--what if I had never tried painting? By the way, I also value other less successful (or even totally bungled) ventures along my journey for the contribution they have made to the person I am today.
Question of the day: What surprising discovery have you made about your own abilities?

Growing--Two Versions of a Landscape--New York Hills Painting

This pair of paintings represents a rare undertaking for me--creating a second version of a landscape I had already painted once. You have seen the painting on the right before, on the November 5 blog post, along with the following description: " . . . Look to the Hills, II, recalls a deeply renewing visit to Warwick Conference Center near Warwick, NY a few Octobers ago. Our long-time friends, Ken and Arlene Tenckinck, manage the center and direct all its programs. As I type this, I find myself smiling and breathing deeply with pleasure--they are remarkable people, Our too-infrequent times together are always rich, meaningful, and full of laughter."

The original Look to the Hills painting, on the left above, differs in the painting palette, in the appearance of the large tree, and in the degree of detail developed in various areas of the composition. It remains a personal favorite as a reminder of that wonderful visit with treasured friends and for the tranquil feeling it gives me. Although I am open to selling most of the paintings I currently have on hand, I plan to keep the first version of this scene.

Why did I decide to create another painting from the same reference photos? I guess part of the reason is the attachment I feel to this scene. I also like an occasional break from Coastal North Florida scenes and felt like a return to the mountain vista of the Warwick, New York area. Finally, I was curious to try a second version with a different palette, a more limited group of basic paint colors from which I mixed all the colors you see in version II.

There may be some truth to the saying that "You can't go home again", as the second version proved to be much more difficult than the first. It simply refused to come out well and is still a distant second to the first in my opinion. However, hearing the response of other people to the two pieces has been interesting and instructive. At my Open Studio Reception in November, several guests really liked Hills II , and at least one of them is still considering purchasing it. Their opinions serve as a good reminder that taste and preference in art are very individual and that I should not assume that viewers will always rank paintings the same way I do. If any of you want to vote for one or the other, that would be fun, and I would love to hear the reasons for your preference.

Question of the day: What experiences can you recall that illustrate the wide variation among people in their taste in art?