I have been seeking to find words to express my mission. Why am I doing this painting thingy? It's not so that a computer may take over and duplicate my image! Hence a story.
Yesterday I saw the distress online of a local artist who had her work taken from internet images and printed by someone who allegedly couldn't afford the original. WTF?
Why Why Why would you be willing to pay for an expensive frame - framing does not come cheap - it's a craft - why would you pay to frame a substandard print?
I visited the Ulster Women Artists exhibition in the Crescent recently. My visit was greatly enriched by another artist. We viewed a number of the works together. One of them - a painting by Judith Logan- revealed exquisite details of colour, texture and pattern as we stood silently enjoying its delights. None of this would be available in the same richness and juiciness with a print. Even a really really good print.
An original work is unique. An original work will reward intense scrutiny. If we PAY attention (energy is valuable and money is merely trapped energy), we are rewarded by rich experiences. An original work, given attention, will yield deep and unexpected rewards. If the attention can be shared the rewards can be multiplied. A computer image, a print, an inferior duplicate, will not, cannot offer itself to you in the way an original artwork may softly, silently and amazingly open itself up to your gaze, your attention, your time, your awareness.
I feel as if I could get on my high horse here. Wakey wakey peeps. The material matters. My material is embodied in my painting via the attention and energy I invested within it. My emotional contagion is within ready to pounce on a willing recipient. I choose which emotions to spread carefully. I pay the making my full and complete attention. The rewards are available to those able to open to the raw materials that I have carefully crafted to carry them. With love and joy and wonder. Those who post pain and anger know this. It's very contagious.
I have always loved paintings. Even when I was quite young my incessant whining would enable me to be deposited at the art gallery while the rest of the family visited ships and castles and places. I chose to discover the magic that paintings could reveal. I stil do. Paintings are silent and immobile yet may open your imagination so wide and deep that it cracks you open. But you have to pay attention.
And a cheap reproduction just doesn't cut it!
Come and see my work at Midtown Makers in Ballymena. I might be there too.