I'm a busy gal. If I'm not working in the wardrobe department of a TV show, I've no doubt created some other lengthy project to keep me active.
Presently, I'm in the middle of an extremely S-L-O-W bathroom remodel. I've waited eons for that room to mutate into the beautiful spa I imagined and now it's happening! Or not. At least that what it feels like when my contractor vanishes for hours and sometimes a day at a time. But like I said, I'm a busy gal and I'm making do with all the semi-construction around me because I'm getting ready to exhibit in The Beverly Hills Art Show!
Whoopee! (Insert sound of whoopee cushion here)
"So, hey busy gal. Why aren't you excited then?" you ask. Well, I am. And I ain't. I'm just ambivalent, I guess. That pretty much has all to do with why I ended up calling my blog "The Hidden Artist." And no, I don't mean hidden as in "I'm hiding my ass, now come and find me." I mean hidden—like a treasure waiting, hoping, praying, affirming, and exercising extreme patience to finally be found, appreciated, sought after, and financially supported by people who want my art. With that being said, I do have to admit that I'm not a full time artist. That dream slowed down almost in synchronicity with my damn bathroom because of a little sidetrack issue called having to work for a living—you know, the kind that funds the DWP and all the other bozos I have to pay out there. Alas, I really do TRY to be an artist—I do, I do, I do, I do (she said as she mangled her tail). I paint in between my paying jobs. When I have the time to search and prepare, I enter juried competitions and maintain some kind of gallery presence, although much too little to be the discovered artist I would like to be. I'm fairly good with social networking, but have to admit I haven't quite gotten onto the Instagram wagon (YET) out of just plain stubbornness. I also have a metaphysical approach to art in general. I strongly believe that "what you give is what you get." I support other artists whenever possible. I BUY art. I started this blog specifically to celebrate other artist's "hidden" talents. And recently, I joined the board of 11:11 ACC, one of the most up and coming art organizations in the valley, well—just because.
So back to this Beverly Hills thingy. I have to admit, I personally never went to one of their shows. (Insert sound of whoopee cushion here...silent "pft" will do) I'm a bit daft sometimes and often "miss the boat" for one reason or the other. But a dear friend talked me into entering the exhibit, so I did and I got accepted. Getting accepted is a big deal. And yes, in the back of my mind, I'm truly hoping this might be my crowd—that audience with not only appreciation for my and other's works, but the kind with some pockets too. You have to admit that artists cannot live on words alone. To hear someone say that you have talent or are gifted or that they love your work does not a breakfast burrito buy.
Anyway, I'm preparing for the show. I paid my entrance fee, got my temporary seller's permit, ordered my Square, rented my canopy, and borrowed some display stands. I'm also painting smaller treasures to tie in the larger ones so my work will appeal to pockets big and small. Based on a series I recently began called "The Harlots," I will also have "Little Lovelies" or tinier versions of historic sluts that encompass the style I used in my LA Series. I call this preparation methodical madness. And while doing all of this, I keep flashing on my bathroom—the long wait, all the planning, and the investment. Will it finally pay off in the end? I think so. I can already envision myself, the "Artist Found," seated on the toilet of my shiny new mini spa while I post Instagram photos of my current works. And I think, "Life sure is grand." (Insert sound of whoopee cushion here...long and winded)