Recently I had the opportunity meet some really nice people at an art gallery in CT and check out the space where they work and get creative. I heard about the Freight Street Art Gallery a few times and and got interested in a show/fundraiser they are putting on in March. I wanted to see if i could contribute to it it some way, but i don’t really go out and socialize too much. I am more of a solo flyer, an introvert that loves the comfort of solitude, animals, and yoga, and the company of my dearest friends and family. I am drawn to the anonymity of the internet and the possibilities it provides artists to learn and find success doing what they love.
But one day i was just like, screw it…try something different once in a while, erica. i stopped in to the gallery a few times to learn more about the upcoming fundraiser show, and see what else they do there. I would consider submitting some art for a fundraiser, because hey, that’s worth a try if it can be part of something like that.
But then i start thinking about why i make the things i make. I would love to make money from art, but mostly so i can have an excuse to do it all the time. I am not in a reasonable position to quit my job to pursue my passion full time, so the only way for me to achieve that possibility, is to figure out a way to make money from it and other creative endeavors. Maybe i will make that happen, and maybe i won’t. but during what’s left of my week i must commit to working in my studio, taking pictures, writing, or learning about something… taking any step toward achieving the life i long for. I have to force myself to devote the time to it, even if I am tired, or busy, or lacking inspiration from the past 20 years of uniforms or a cubicles. I have to commit to it, or i am not OK.
Whenever i have a chance, I’ll go in my studio, get cozy and just see what comes out. For the most part, I make art that simply makes me feel happy. I make things that i would want in my own home. Freight Street put on a show last night, and when i heard about the theme… Pizza… i knew i would be going. Cheesie Dream was going to be right up my alley. (food art… my crazy obsession). I didn’t plan on submitting anything, even though the people there encouraged me to try it.
One evening,I started a sketch for the heck of it, laid it out on a piece of wood, and then instinctively added it to my floor sculpture of unfinished paintings before i shut down the studio. I was quitting again. But i then i realized i just had to finish it. This once, i had to finish something. I picked it up again, and there was no turning back. I was finishing it. I stayed up the entire night, and nearly finished the painting, but then i had to take a shower and go to work. (wah). When i got home that night, i put on a few finishing touches, knowing it still wasn’t truly finished, and terrified to put my stuff out there to be seen and judged (or worse, not noticed) by art enthusiasts. Again, i almost stuck it back in the pile of works in progress. but then i finally talked myself into bringing down to submit. I asked myself… do i like it? Would i put it in my own home? Sure. So I humbly brought it down to gallery… and handed it over.
The next evening W made some pizza for dinner and headed over to the show. It was amazing. Not the pizza (that was definitely edible)… i mean the art show. I don’t find a lot this artsy stuff where i live, but if you are always on the lookout for it, you’ll find it. We made our way inside the old factory doorway, and it was like magic. The main gallery had transformed from a state of chaos and creative madness, into a warm, magical space filled with fantastic live music, wine, interesting chatter, art and of course… pizza everywhere you turned.
With all the talk about guns and violence lately… with all the road rage in the wake of storm Nemo… i just had bring some color and peaceful vibes to the world. That’s how my pizza art evolved.
Thanks for the good time, Freight Street.