How This Artist Thinks II.

Stephen Calhoun, fine artist
Congratulations, You’re the New Head of Customer Service (2015, Stephen Calhoun)

Dream, actually a solid anima dream, from January 2014:

People are walking through a gallery of art.

I’m off to the side watching the people stop and look at the art pieces.

To myself I muse, ‘I’m the only one here who knows who is the artist.’

(The pieces are my own.)

Soon enough a very old lady is helped along by a young woman in a maid’s outfit.

They stop at the picture I’m standing to the side of. The young girl lets go of the old lady and steps close to the picture.

After a while, the girl says out loud, “Oh, I like this one very much.”

The old lady responds in a grumpy, raspy voice, “Then, he should sell it.”

art-crone-say

I asked the probe with Ken as the witness, “What should I investigate to acclimate myself to the public for art,” and, presumably to the segment possibly interested in my art. As always, the Probe tells no lies. Its suggests looking deeper into the mercurial shadow quadrant where the indication is that (my) listening and receiving feedback will be crucial. Crones Says is synchronistic verification and it also echoes my late mother’s aperçu from ten years ago, “I have figured out you have the soul of an artist!”

The last two months have been, for me, completely different from my “norm.” I’ve had to steward two pieces through printing and media finishing processes, and, in the latter stage, I encountered several dramatic bumps in the road. I learned a lot, and I’ve learned to trust my somewhat innocent judgments about technical matters, even as I negotiate the first stretch of a big learning curve.

The biggest difference in my daily program has been how much time I have devoted, and devoured, in going back into the archives of unfinished pieces and old experiments, and reanimating a string of pieces that I set aside because I didn’t want to proof them at their optimal display dimensions. See the earlier post on this.

My normal, light, scattered days, usually spent pursuing my feeling for experiences–be it studying various subjects, or contemplating or investigating or making music or doing visual experiments, or talking up friends, colleagues, projects, or designing experiential tools–has been set to the side as I’ve thrown myself into what I can call the maiden dream.

Crone Say, indeed!

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