A little death, a little love

Today I visited my blog page for the first time in 6 months…to the day. It’s like a little time capsule at this point, and my life is vastly changed, and still changing.

I’ve been working in an office as a marketing associate, with my very own cubicle. It’s actually been a nice change of pace, like putting on a new persona and acting in a play. I get a steady paycheck and it’s the most wonderful thing ever. I could probably do this for the rest of my life in some capacity, build a career; I’m good at it.

I haven’t picked up a paint brush, hardly even made a sketch the past six months. While it may seem like a sad thing, it isn’t. My art went through a little death and I’m healing. There is still more healing to do, still financials to sort out. It will take more time, but I always return to my brushes and oils eventually.

In honor of this healing process, I’m clearing out the studio; getting rid of all the old, to make room for the new. I’ll be auctioning and selling all my older series of paintings and any canvas prints on Facebook over the next few months. I want them in the hands of the wonderful people who supported me through all of this.

So on to new and better and brighter things!

-Marni

some major changes

The White Dress #5 (sold)

I've thrown my hands in the air. Working as a full-time artist is no longer feasible. I've given everything to my art, and there's nothing left. The painting will continue, but at a much slower rate. At moments like this, it makes me seriously question my talent, and even my sanity.

I'm once again filling out job applications and sending out resume's. I won't let the electricity get shut off, or the kitties go hungry. There's no way to raise the funds to attend those festivals I'm just dying to participate in this year. Nope. It's time to put this art thing aside for a bit, and focus my energy on a steady paycheck. When I get back on top of my finances, I'll try once again. In the meantime, I won't be accepting any more commissions (sorry for those on the wait list). Any extra time will go to my own work.


It's such a shame that the living artists in our society are not supported better and valued. We don't get unemployment benefits and most can't afford healthcare. When you factor in the hours spent creating and promoting, most artists earn much less than minimum wage. Art is the first thing cut out of school budgets, yet artists produce the most cherished objects in a society's
history.

A new mini (4x4") painting, available for purchase:

fruits and veggies for mental health

I've been in a holding pattern for the past six months, artistically and in my life. It's been a tough year, financially and emotionally. I try to stay disciplined, forcing myself to sit down and pick up that brush no matter what. This is my livelihood, after all. I don't have the luxury of putting my paints aside waiting for inspiration.
Some healing was in order, and to do so, I turned to an old friend, the still life.

16 years ago, I took a few college oil painting classes, and didn't do very well. In fact, I dropped out twice. A few years later, I tried painting again, on my own terms. I bought some cheap 16x20 canvas and painted a single big fruit on each. There was a pepper (left), a lemon, and a peach. These forgiving orbs lacked skeletal structure, making it easy to concentrate on color, form and light. My success allowed me to gain confidence, branching out in to potted plants and eventually, the human form.

Painting a still life is a type of meditation for me, and in that meditation, ideas form. I've been simmering the proverbial idea cauldron for months, and now I have a new direction. The fruit and veggies will be set aside for a later date (once I finish the few left on the easel).

Purple Pepper (2000)

Some new mini paintings:

Onion
purchase

Radishes
purchase

Kiwi
purchase



images © Marni Mutrux 2009

New paintings, proliferation and compulsion

Tango
purchase

Looking back on my mini collection, I'm amazed at how fast they proliferated. I started painting them in March, and here we are a few months later with nearly 40 of them (I'm including the few sitting on my desk unfinished). What was intended as a brief project has mushroomed into an entire series.

I'm debating if I should take a break from the mini project. I love the mindless intensity of painting these little beauties, but wonder if my time is better spent on other paintings. These are choices we all have to make as artists. With so many creative ideas, it's difficult, but important, to edit. Time will tell if the mini's make the cut.

This latest batch continues several themes. The cherries (top) are part of a little subgroup. I spent a whole afternoon arranging and photographing cherries in my backyard for these. There are more in the works, all pairs of ripe cherries dancing into the night.

Apricots
sold

"Apricots" continues my fruit theme. I've developed a habit of scrutinizing the produce section for painting subjects. It looks a little nuts, as I hold up each fruit to the light, examining it from all sides for character, shape and color. Perhaps I should extend my search to the meat isle, or canned goods. The possibilities are endless.

Claws

sold

Claws is part of a commissioned group of kitty paintings. The intense close-ups are my own compromise on painting cats. I loathe painting "pet portraits", despite their popularity. By getting so close and cropping, these become something beyond a portrait.

Siamese Fighting Fish
purchase

Lastly, little fishy. I can't help myself with these. I've painted a slew of little fish paintings throughout the years. Most were sold or given away. I don't even have photographs of them. It's the play of light and color that I find irresistible, and the tremendous personalities. Or it could be the guilt from when my entire tank of fish died from ick when I was 12. Every time I finish one, I want to start another.

My audition for Bravo's Untitled Art Project

Last weekend, Bravo TV held their LA auditions for The Untitled Art Project. It's a reality show backed by Sarah Jessica Parker with a format similar to Project Runway and Top Chef.

It took a lot of convincing before I decided to go to the audition. I don't take a 6 hour drive (each way), and the cost of gas and a hotel room lightly. I went, not because my hopes were pinned on winning a spot on the latest reality show (quite possibly a career-killer). I was curious, and felt it important to stick my neck out once again, even if it's only to add another rejection to the pile. I'm very proud of all those rejections. It means I'm out there, trying to do whatever it takes for my art. In the very least, I'd meet people, artists willing to take chances, and that is always worthwhile. Plus, I have this interesting blog to write!

Jeff and I arrived at the audition an hour early, and the line already spanned half the block. The morning sun was still low, leaving just a few feet of shade. With temperatures in the 90's, we hoped to get in before that sliver of shade disappeared. In front of me was artist, Patricia Anders, an LA native. Behind me, artist Scott Ward, who flew in that morning from Seattle. As people arrived, I was pleased to recognize a few of the paintings they carried to the audition. Some were artists I'd shown with, others I'd seen on Myspace or some other Internet site.
There was a buzz in the air, as we all speculated about the show.

Finally, the line began to move, as small groups were taken inside the gallery where auditions were held. By noon, just as the shade vanished, our group was ushered to the back of the building. At least a thousand people were left waiting in the sun. At this point, I became a little nervous, wondering what sort of questions they would ask. By now, I'm accustomed to talking about my work, but I'm intensely camera and stage-shy. I tried not to think about it.

Walking the line

We were each given folders, numbers and name tags, and our photo was taken. Then we waited once more for our numbers to be called for a portfolio review. Minutes later, our group was led into the building. We entered a small gray room with a table at one end, where two staff members were quickly checking portfolios. I remember thinking they were awfully young to be doing portfolio reviews. Patricia went before me, and two minutes later, she went onto the next room.
When it was my turn, I sat down, giving the staffer my portfolio. She breezed through the first images, (my figure series) without a pause. Then she stopped at my portraits of Billy Holiday and Quincy Jones, saying, "these are really good". She rushed through the rest, disinterested. The only one she lingered on was Breakfast in Bed. There were no questions, just a "thank you', and I left for the next room.

This is when things became a little odd. The next area was another holding room, where people wait for the next phase. Patricia was gone, but someone I didn't recognize was in front of me, probably from the proceeding group. One of the staff was explaining to him in a soft voice what to expect in the next phase, what they were looking for, and how he should present himself. They seemed chummy, shaking hands and patting each other on the back. I tried, but couldn't catch all he was saying. At that point, the rest of my group filed in behind me. The same staffer approached them and explained something to them under his breath. I was distracted, and didn't pay close attention, assuming it was a shorter version of what I just overheard. I realized my mistake when everyone behind me turned and walked out the door. This is when I had to chase down the staffer to ask what he said, and was given a "thank you, but you aren't what we're looking for."

Baffled, I walked out into the summer heat. It wasn't the rejection. It was the expectation there would be some sort of interview, or a few questions asked. They could have looked at portfolios with a mail-in entry.

From what I can deduct, from casting director interviews I found online, and through my own experience, Bravo is looking for a very particular style of art. From that pool, they will cast some very particular personalities. At the LA audition, several invitations went out to well-known pop-surrealist artists. Perhaps that's who the portfolio staffers were on the look-out for.

In the end, I'm happy I went. It was an experience, and I was able to be in the presence of hundreds a professional artists-a breed of person I'm endlessly fascinated with. Knowing the show's criteria, I won't try again next season, but I look forward to the guilty pleasure of watching the artists fight it out on TV.

Marin Art Festival Review

A few weeks have passed since the Marin Art Festival, and I have to admit, this one wore me out! It wasn't the festival itself, since set-up was relatively easy. It was the mental strain of preparation, and that difficult switch to the "selling" side of art that did it.

The show wasn't a resounding success. It wasn't a failure either. Like most shows I've done this year, it was so-so. Marin puts on a gorgeous art festival. The quality of work was high, the food was very good, and the live music and entertainment was engaging. Attendance could have been better, but people were buying. Unfortunately, When you pay $1,000 just for the booth space, it's difficult to break even.

Despite the cost, I'll continue to do fine art festivals when I'm able. They are worth the effort for the opportunity to meet people face-to-face. When your art is hanging in a gallery, you usually don't get that chance. Someone I meet at a festival this year could result in a commission, sale or connection years later. When you spend most of your time holed up alone in the studio, that's invaluable!

There I am, in requisite floppy hat

Booth interior

The show from above

artist, Hines

another female figure artist (a rarity), Chelsea Croy

some very elegant stilt walkers

glass sculpture by the bay

Countdown to Marin

Time is whipping by me as I prepare for the Marin Art Festival, June 21-22.

To be my guest at the most beautiful art festival in the country next weekend, print this free admission ticket to save yourself $10 per person.

There are paintings to finish, prints to make, and giclees to stretch. My list is always a mile long preparing for these shows, but I have the hang of it now. The trick is to do what is absolutely needed first. If the rest doesn’t get done, it will be ready for the next show!

I’m going to post a few I completed last month, since they never graced the pages of my blog. New paintings are in the works, and I’m so excited to finally feel the gates of possibility opening up once more.

30x40" Quincy Jones, a commission.

A few more of the continuing mini series:

Goldfish #7 -sold

Daylily buy

Petals buy

White Dress #4 buy

A very serious blog

The White Dress #3

SOLD

For the last 3 years, I’ve been working full-time as an artist. It’s been an amazing journey. This has been a dream of mine since I can remember, maybe not a conscious one, but when I’m creating, it’s the only time I feel truly whole. It’s always been that way; like I’m doing what I was meant to do in this life-there’s no question.
Getting here is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Anyone who’s been in my shoes can tell you how risky this life is. There’s no salary, no benefits, no security, no unemployment to collect. I put relationships, savings, credit, my heart, sanity and ego on the line. I can honestly say I’ve given it my all.
I’ve been blessed to have the opportunity to give it a go, and proud I took that chance. That’s why it’s so painful to be sitting here, filling out random job applications. We have so little time in this life, and to spend that time doing something other than what we love feels like a waste.

The last six months have been some of the best in my career, despite a failing economy. Unfortunately, everything else is falling apart. My partner has lost his job several times in the past few months, credit cards are killing me, the savings are gone and the bills are piled up. For the first time in my fiscally-responsible life, I’m faced with debt collectors, loss of utilities and the possibility of eviction. I can't take the risk of a slow month, that’s the truth of it.

Of course, I’ll never stop creating. No true artist does. Give me nothing but some straws and a pile of Easter Peeps and I’ll make something out of it. There will be plenty more paintings and shows in the future, it just may take a little longer. This is just a small detour in my journey. Right now, it’s about survival.

For those of you who have followed my progress and routed for me along the way, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Art is about communicating, and I’ve met some wonderful people through that connection. I hope my journey inspires others, even if I feel like a failure at the moment. At the very least I can serve as example.

I complete this very serious blog with an update on shows, and three lovely mini paintings. The San Diego Art Walk is in less than three weeks, and unless a miracle occurs, I won’t be able to go. Art Couture in Vegas was canceled, due to the economy. The Marin festival IS a go, thanks to all my friends and family.

I just attended a wonderful gallery opening at the 57th street gallery in Oakland, and I’m happy to have ongoing representation there. In May, there's a month-long show at Eclectix Gallery in El Cerrito, CA.

The mini paintings will be going up in price very soon, as $55 is a steal for the amount of work that goes into them. Grab yours now before the prices are raised! These new ones focus on more of my favorite foods, a portrait, a goldfish, kitty feet, and my continued obsession with white dresses.

Goldfish #6-SOLD

Figs-SOLD

Promise

Oyster -SOLD

Kitty Feet-SOLD

Not Without a Fight

As many of you know, it’s been a difficult few months. In fact, the last nine months have been some of the most trying in my life, but I’m determined to make this work. In betting terms, I’m all in. Despite all the hardships, it’s been my best year yet as a full-time artist. There is no turning back, so I keep pushing with my career, hoping for better times.

A week ago, I was accepted to the Marin Art Festival. This is one of the top shows in the county, billed as “the most beautiful art festival in the nation”. With just 92 spots available, and over 900 applications, I was accepted!

I’m struggling right now just to pay rent, and can’t afford the booth fee. The folks at Marin were kind enough to give me two weeks to raise the funds. I have even more acceptance letters coming in, and I'm doing everything I can to do these shows.

To help me accomplish my goals, I’m turning to my Internet friends and family. Over the next month, I’ll be creating mini oil paintings to post in my Etsy shop. Subjects will focus on food, flowers, and whatever else catches my fancy. They will be priced at only $55 each! If you have a request, post it here, and I’ll make one just for you.

I’m also offering a $25% discount on all my Etsy prints and necklaces and (discount refunded after checkout). Just make sure you mention my blog.

One more thing-I’ve added a Paypal “donate” button to my blog. Even a few dollars will help make these shows happen for me. Every bit helps, more than you know, and I'll continue to do my best to help others learn through my experiences.

I'll have the first few paintings up within a few days. In the meantime, here are some examples of mini's I've painted in the past:

The Most Successful Unsuccessful Show Ever

I have two more art festivals under my belt; first let me backtrack to the Sept 7^th show in Shell Beach. Driving down from Paso Robles, I entered a low, misty cloud and remained in it for the rest of the day. It was cold and damp the entire time.

the cloud

I’m getting fairly accustomed to setting up the tent, but had some technical difficulties with the dolly. It lost a wheel, so setup and take-down required extra trips.

The crowd was drastically different than the month before. For the first few hours, they walked around, remaining a few feet away from the tents. Arms crossed, they acted like us artists were going to accost them with sales pitches and grab their purses.

a new necklace display

Luckily, I had some visitors to keep me company. A few of my lovely models stopped by, and some friends stopped in to chat. I barely broke even with sales, but had a fun day nonetheless.

this guy was popular

San Diego’s ArtWalk (Sept 13-14^th) was my first art festival out-of-town. Applying to these shows is risky, since I’m incurring hotel and gas expenses along with the entry fee. Entry fees can range from $300-$800 for some of the bigger shows, so it’s a gamble, especially since I don’t know what to expect. I took the gamble for the networking opportunities. I’ve outgrown the central coast, so I’m hitting the road to get more exposure, bypass the gallery system and take the reins of my career into my own hands. The work is hard, and I’m teetering on the brink of bankruptcy, but at this point, the only direction is forward.

the night before, setting up

The setting is beautiful. Right on the bay, the tents have the ocean behind them, with a thick jasmine bush to keep everyone hedged in. My first “fine art” show, I was in awe and intimidated, but thrilled to be there. Some of the art is impressive; gorgeous paintings, sculpture and glass. I recognized some of the artists from magazines, but my admiration was tempered by a good amount of displays lacking in professionalism, to put it nicely.

ArtWalk provides tents. This is good, because I don’t have to tow a trailer around San Diego (this time). It’s bad because I lose control over the presentation of my work. Luckily, the mesh walls from my own tent fit over the provided one, and set-up went smoothly. That night, we had a good night’s rest and showed up at the show ready to go

all set up

I soon discovered the crowds were not art buyers, for the most part. They were families and couples, here to enjoy the day. I sold some necklaces and prints, but no where near enough to make up for the money I shelled out. Useful art sold the best. The woman next to me sold $10,000 in stained glass lady-lamps, and a furniture maker was mobbed the entire weekend. It seems like artist here do really well or not. It’s tricky, because it may take a few years to build up a clientele. There’s also the possibility I’ll find my audience in places like Beverly Hills. Still, I had a wonderful time, and met some incredible artists who gave me invaluable advice.

the lady-lamp

The second day of the show, I was visited by a gallery owner. He carefully looked at all my pieces, and said he wanted to meet with me in his gallery-that day. He was looking for nudes, and wanted most of my originals. The gallery is located in the Manchester Grand Hyatt, and carries fine art, sculpture, and glasswork. The artists are way out of my league (not in quality, but in exposure and career level), so I’m left feeling unprepared, and a bit confused.

In the end, I left San Diego without rent money, OR paintings. I want to be excited, but I'm filled with trepidation. The gallery may not work out, but for now I am represented by them. The reins are once more out of my hands, and there's another show in three days.

The best quotes of the weekend:

A man walks into the tent, his wife remarks, "Course you know where Joe goes...naked ladies". She rolls her eyes and walks out.

A little boy and his mom were passing by, the little boy sees my stuff and shouts, "Ewwww!" Mom says, "just cover your eyes, cover your eyes!" They RUN by me.

late nights, paint-stained hands

My festival tour kickoff starts this weekend, and I've been on lockdown in the studio for weeks. The solitary time spent creating is part of the appeal of being an artist, but it can also become frightening. After so long, I sometimes have difficulty carrying on simple conversations. My vocabulary is shot. I don't know what happens, but I feel the need to read a book-out loud, just to use my voice.

Oh wait, that's not very social, is it?

I should probably get out of the house.

I'll be out of the house soon enough, starting this Sunday! There's Shell Beach, San Diego (2x), Danville, Slo open studios (2 weeks), Sacramento, Shell beach (again), and Pasadena. Whew! I'm so excited.

If you don't know much about fine art festivals, let me give you a little low down. You are required to be in your tent at all times. That's 2-3 days sitting outside in any kind of weather. Some of these shows have 10,000+ people in attendance. That's a lot of meeting and talking, and hopefully selling :)

You are required to have a high percentage of original art. Some shows require up to 80%. If I sell all my original art in September, there's no way I'll have enough paintings for October and November, thus the long hours in the studio.

Plus, there's a zillion things to do. I'm not even going to get into that because it stresses me out, and I'm trying to calm down, despite all the coffee I've been drinking.

So I'm going to take a few deep breaths and just do the best I can. I'll be back with a report.

Thanks for reading!

Apartment Therapy

I just found out my print of, "Drift" was featured on the front page of Apartment Therapy. If you haven't explored this site, it features amazing furniture designs, something I go nuts for.

Here's the link
to the (now archived) feature page.

If you are too lazy to use the link, here's the painting they featured:


image copyright of Marni Mutrux

I can't believe they had the ummm...balls, to use a nude on their main page. Now I really like them.