NIghtFlare- At West End Gallery
Knowledge would be fatal. It is the uncertainty that charms one. A mist makes things wonderful.
–Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray (1890)
Sitting here this morning with a distracted mind. I am trying to write this while at the same time attempting to think of what I might say at the Gallery Talk that I am giving at the West End Gallery. Mixed in are several things weighing on my mind, things that must be done before tomorrow morning as well as the presence of a very large commission that has been dominating my time this past week.
I am at a point with this large painting, which I will write about in the near future, where I am in sight of completion and everything is coming together. Being pulled away for the next couple of days, even for the best of reasons, is killing me.
That’s just how my mind works, which might be the subject of tomorrow’s talk. While I can’t say for certain how my mind actually works, I know that uncertainty and sometimes desperation, even hopelessness, create the focus in it that allows me to work. It’s an uncertainty in myself and of the world and a desperation for some sense of direction and order that allows something to emerge from the mist and miasma of the chaos I often sense in this world.
The question is: How do you talk about that with a group of folks, many who are total strangers, and make it sound reasonable and not insane?
I don’t know that there’s an answer there. Probably good that there isn’t. I would probably reject it because that knowledge would take away the uncertainty I need in order to be able to stand up there in front of them. That’s why the short passage above from Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray rang true for me.
There is something exciting, even thrilling, sometimes in not knowing where things are going or how they will turn out. I have felt this often in my painting. If I know exactly how things are going to end up on the surface, I question why I am painting that piece in the first place or how I can change its direction so that that certainty is erased.
Taking away the safety net is sometimes a necessary thing in creating something.
Which is also true for my gallery talks. I sometimes come in with notes and an idea of what I want to talk about but more often than not, they are quickly discarded as the talk finds its own center for myself and the audience. Like painting, it feels almost a creative performance, which is how I have described my painting process– each painting is its own performance.
When it works, it is wonderful both in the doing and in the end result. And when it doesn’t work? Well, I sweat a lot more to try make something out of nothing. And quite often something good does emerge.
Of course, I do have a safety net of sorts with my Gallery Talks. I know that at the end of each talk I can regain the confidence of the audience with the free drawing(s) for my work and the other gifts I often pass out.
Does that constitute a bribe?
Maybe but let’s not make a lovely thing ugly, okay?
I don’t know if this makes sense. Maybe that’s a good thing. I don’t know.
Seeking the Design– You Could Win This Painting!
All I have to say is that tomorrow, Saturday, November 7, is my annual Gallery Talk at the West End Gallery. It begins at 11 AM but the gallery suggests you arrive early to insure a seat for the talk. Doors open at 10:30 AM. At the end of the Gallery Talk, which generally last about 45 minutes to an hour, there is a free drawing for all those in attendance. Tomorrow I will be giving away the 16″ by 20″ painting shown here, Seeking the Design.
Here’s some uncertainty for you to consider: I might be giving away another one or two and some other stuff. If you want to know if that’s true, you will just have to show up at the West End Gallery tomorrow morning.
Here’s a song, How Can I Be Sure, from 1967 from The Rascals that has been a fave for me for what seems forever. Could be my theme song just based on the uncertainty it evokes.