Call for Artists, Making Money at Juried Art Fairs, Craft Shows and Festivals
Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa.
We've been through a bad phase lately. Please allow me to share; and honestly, it's not THAT bad.
The scene: Husband and I in the car, driving somewhere, and one of us would look at the other of us and ask "did you check the coffee pot?" As in: did it get turned off, or left on?
Somehow we have adopted the assumption that an empty coffee pot left turned on when nobody is home to watch it--well, it's probably going to burn the house down, right?
Yes, I know OSHA makes everybody put safety controls on everything nowadays, BUT aren't all coffee pots made in China now? And I don't think OSHA gets to mess with them all that much, so net result: we always turn around and go back to check.
But, we're doing better recently. I started unplugging the coffee pot. Somehow that's easier to remember than turning off a switch. Dios mio.
Similiarly, If my husband was a painter and we worked side by side on the same canvas, we'd probably be headed to an exhibit and one of us would have to question the other of us "did you check the values?"
Seasoned artists are pretty much a group of squinty eyed value-checkers (thanks Painter's Keys) all the way through the progression of a painting. And yet that finish line appears and you think "two more brush strokes, and SIGN IT". Blame it on the rush, the exultation of the finish. But, that's when somebody needs to holler "did you check the values?" What? Again?? Yup. And now I'm speaking for/to those of us who paint in color. Technicolor. Uber color. Because we've all been told, and don't we know it: color can be tricky that way.
Rise above that trickiness. Grab your camera. Photo that big old color coated canvas. Load it into your happy computer and use your photo program to turn it to black and white.
Could be the squinty eye trick worked great this time and all's well. But every now and then, you get a little "hunh" happening, as in "whoa, didn't see that one coming". So much easier to fix it before you get the varnish on--or heaven help us--before it's hanging some place important and the omission suddenly hits you and you are mortified by it. :)
Check the coffee pot, save the house. Check the values, save the painting. Analogies flow rich at the Cooper studio this morning, eh? Thanks for stopping by