OK, I’m listening


Sometimes I am a little slow. My daughter told me I should do it. The woman I love told me I should do it. Others, a few perfect strangers, have asked for it. Other artists do it as a matter of course.


Well I finally got around to it. Just as I finally got around to painting , graduating from my pen and ink work of three decades and discovering color just a few years ago.

I’m not sure why it took so long. I guess that, despite the fact that I’ve been making art for ages, and people like it, put in their homes, buy it, put it in galleries, despite all that, I’ve only recently come to grips with the fact that I really am an artist.

At times, It feels almost unfair that people should pay me for creating beautiful things that resonate with them. Why I feel that way, I don’t know. I mean, I don’t mind paying for art, or for music, or other beautiful things that sing to me. Why have I assumed so long that others would mind?

Did I not think my art had value? Even though it was clear to me that it does. What kind of madness ignores facts. Especially flattering, wonderful facts?

OK, I’ve been listening. I get it. Somebody likes this stuff. And some people would like prints, or cards, or canvases. Not just the originals. So finally, finally, I’m set up to do it. It wasn’t hard, really. Not nearly as hard as my head.

So, if you are interested, yes, you can now get prints. And you can start telling me the next thing I need to hear, which I may actually hear…. in a year or two.


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