So I realize I am in a Connecticut suburb, which of course shapes and skews my view on well.. everything. However I have recently been hanging out with wanna-be musicians. That may sound harsh but lets be honest here, they drink and hang out every night jamming… which don’t get me wrong is a lot of fun… But there are thousands upon thousands of musicians who do the same thing and whereas they may be personally satisfied with what they are doing, they will never achieve their goals by sitting around drinking and hanging out. The best musicians worked and worked and with a little luck they were recognized.
This leads me into art. I tend to think that at least in my benign location, I have enough drive and business sense to make a name for myself. Now it occurs to me that since everything is perception, that the positives and attention of my work is really lost in the machine of mediocrity. In other words, there may be 10 known artists in this town. One town… in Connecticut. What kind of blind arrogance do I have to think that as a whole, my work is any more special than someone else.
Also, one of these musicians could not stop talking about the work I had done previous to my abstract phase which is present. I mean the work that resembles something. These are artistic people and they cannot see the inherent sensible aesthetic beauty in abstracting a canvas to create something meaningful. Maybe it is because they have experienced the same perspective they always have. The same people, the same opinions being influenced by the same people. And trust me, I know it applies to me too.
So now what? I recognize that I have too much ambition to stay in a small town forever living a mediocre life, having my suburban surroundings define my expression. So logically why wouldn’t I go to a big city? I may be ambitious but I have enough sense to recognize that without the right connections and venues, my work will be lost. Many praise the 1960’s art scene as the birth of modernism… Some amazing work came out of that movement. Yet for every famous artist in SoHo there were 99 that drank themselves silly and never got anywhere. In the birth of modernism! So what chance do I have in an over-saturated market with 100 other “me’s” wanting to make it big as an artist.
Meanwhile the only peace I feel is when I am staring at a blank canvas.
