I believe in it
Not long ago, I started calling myself an artist
It was not particularly true, but I had painted a few paintings
And did some drawing
I made mechanical drawings and got paid for it
Not particularly well, but enough
Then I quit
Just up and quit
Oh, I had my reasons,
Most of them not logical from the world’s standpoint
But valid to me.
And took up painting again
Not particularly well, but I did it
And got a sketchbook and started to draw again
Not well, but I kept at it.
I posted stuff on line and asked questions
[drove some kind guides wiggy I would imagine]
but I kept at it and started to call myself an artist.
Some looked funny at me.
Thought I was getting uppity
Thinking myself better than them
Or cultured, putting on airs
Pretending to education I did not have
But being an artist is not about being educated
It is about being
It is about doing.
I picked up a camera and started shooting
The pictures turned out great
Showed them around,
“boy what a good camera you have”
not about what a good eye I have.
But I kept on.
Putting it all together
Started mounting and framing and putting it together
Found some walls
Put it up
Had some people in
“Wow, I can’t believe you did this
Where did you take that? My house?
I don’t remember this around the neighborhood”
Then the reporter calls.
“can I see where you work?”
He dignifies the basement, calls it my studio
Suddenly, it becomes one.
So the paper comes out
“Wow, I didn’t know you were an artist!”
Now it is official
I am an artist.
Was all along,
But now the label sticks.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Today, Thinking about Art