There are books and blogs, videos and films, all dealing with the subject, "How to Make a Living as an Artist".
After many years of research and copious pages of notes, my game plan may not look like ones adopted by other artists, but that's fine. I made the decision to keep my art affordable long before I had a website. The first pieces of art I bought were when I was a teenager; I am grateful to the artists that opened the world of art to me at a reasonable price.
Recently though, an artist offered advice about how to make a living that got my Scorpio dander up and had me yelling at the screen.
I won't reveal the source, but what was discussed, (I am paraphrasing), was, "finding wealthy folks in your community that would invest in your work". This person sells their art for upwards of $60,000, so their idea of a living wage from a career in art varies vastly from mine.
What rankled me was the suggestion that we should approach wealthy people and insinuate that they should be our patrons and that we will produce art as long as they finance our dreams.
Apparently the presenter didn't study the life of Michaelangelo, who was at the mercy of the Popes and their unrelenting demands that he accomplish the impossible. Granted, the Sistine Chapel makes us weep in awe of his work, but I wonder if it broke his heart that he was painting atop high scaffolding laying on his back, rather than pursuing his passion as a sculptor.
Perhaps the presenter neglected to read about the life of Johannes Vermeer, who despite having patrons in Peter van Ruijven and his wife Maria de Knuijt, died in debt at 43.
As artists, we compromise our ideals at our peril, especially about how we make money. Relying on wealthy patrons can be dangerous, particularly if demands are made of what THEY want us to produce.
I also find it abhorrent to suggest that we classify the wealthy only as potential patrons. We are missing the point; people who love the arts are patrons. ALL of them.
The patrons who have supported me on my artistic journey are not only the people who have purchased my art. Others have given me pans of exquisite watercolours, charcoal sticks and even handmade sheets of paper from a mill in Montreal. One dear man, (at his own garage sale, no less!), upon hearing of my love of sketching, went into the house, then returned to present me with a handmade box for my pencils.
There are patrons who have cheered me on as I insisted on finishing a painting while standing in the rain. Others encouraged me through what I believed were insurmountable challenges, like painting skaters at Lake Louise who on canvas were too big or too small, too near or too far.
You, my dear Subscribers who are reading this blog are patrons as well. You listen to my stories, joining me on my adventures in paint and life. I am grateful that I don't walk alone.
Thank you for spending this time with me,
Lori xx