After a successful month, I picked up the fourteen pieces that were up on display at the gallery. I wasn't expecting to sell anything and I wasn't fazed by the fact that nothing was sold. Instead, I spent some time looking at the new art that was installed.
A year ago I wandered the streets of Davis examining the ceramics on display throughout town. I saw a lot of similar names, the big-hitters in the ceramics world and the Bay Area. I know I must have an aesthetic I like because every time I stopped to look more closely or attentively at a piece, ceramic or drawing, it usually was one of two-or-so artists. It is exciting for both to know that there is something compelling in a certain type of art that I love and that an artist has mastered their own unique style for one to recognize as distinctly their own. Last year I had the opportunity to speak with one of these artists, Arthur Gonzalez, by happenstance at another gallery in town. It felt strange to speak seeing as I had only discovered his work a day or two before but it felt important to let him know that his work, despite the infancy of its influence on me, still impacted me. It resonated with me. I was inspired to make more work that would be true to me. I stood in front of the few galleries in town and made a list. I wanted my work to make it to one of these walls in town. As I wait for my artwork I look at the new ceramics on display. There's one I gravitate towards immediately. A sculpture of switchblades hanging from a bare tree, a child and an open book, whimsical yet dark, I loved it. I looked at the artist caption; it was a Gonzalez piece and I had to laugh, because of course it was. Later, while speaking with the gallery director about the new art on display she said, "Isn't Arthur Gonzalez's work something?" I confirmed that it was and that I was a fan. "I thought of you," she said, "while he was giving an artist talk. He said something that reminded me of you. He said how every piece is a struggle or sometimes an accident. And that when he does make something great he's worried he'll never make something as great as that again." She laughed. "Obviously he keeps creating great work though, just look at his stuff, but I found what he said so fascinating." I wanted to ask why those words or thoughts reminded her of me seeing as our prior conversations have been sparse. But perhaps, like Arthur, there is an aesthetic I produce, without realizing, that others can pick up on. To have been thought of at all, let alone showcase work concurrently with an inspiration and an idol, was the perfect amount of Sunday validation, seeing as I've fallen into the depression vs laziness debate again. I am still at stubborn odds with the fact that there is no end to the feelings of struggle, or worse, feeling like an impostor. But yet, this, I hope, will serve as a reminder that I am not alone.
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A few hours before the 2nd Friday ArtAbout in downtown Davis, I wandered into Pence Gallery to see my work on the walls for the first time. The upstairs room was empty save for a father and his two children. They were tucked in the corner reading the title of one of my pieces. "And what about that guy?" the father said, pointing to a figure in The Gatekeepers. "He looks like maybe he's plotting something," he continued. "Yeah, what do you think is in the building?" the young son asked. The daughter moved on to Exit Stage Right and scoffed. "But there's no stage. What does it mean?" From across the room I watched and listened. The father took a photo of Join Us to show his wife. "Mom will love these cats," he said to his children. On their way out, wavering between the doorway, the father said with a grin, "Well, that was really interesting..."
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