The nakedness of art

The nakedness of art

Art is terrifying. To put your art out there on display in the world, and to place a price on it, is to ask the world to love you, and value you, and nothing is scarier than that. Because,  when the world doesn’t love you, and doesn’t value you, what does that mean? 

[Insert pregnant silence]

I watched people at the gallery today. For the most part, the art was quite literally wallpaper – the background to a conversation. The friends who were there with me were interested, as was the photographer invited along to take shots.

But nobody else was. Nobody else even looked.

None of it mattered. None of the feeling I put into the work, or the thought, or, being purely practical, the time and the money – none of it mattered. And why should it? People are busy. They have lives of their own. They have better things to think about.

How do you get your creations to matter to someone else as much as it does to you? I don’t know. This website is part of it. It would probably have helped if the exhibition notes were up as they are supposed to be, because that tells the story and gives the context.

But you can’t make people care. All you can do is walk out there and show yourself,  naked in the world, and hope that they don’t point and laugh.