HOW WE CREATE

American Enterprise. At its most basic definition, it is a beautiful notion. We can dream can't we? The decision to venture forth into an unknown, strike a pose, and lay down your chips. Taking the chance to succeed or fail. When the chips have fallen, we then play it as it lays. That's freedom.

Defines a life in the arts.

I got lucky when I was born here. I can go most anywhere and create anything.

Recently I glanced at a profile piece on a fella, an artist and his graphically clean painting of a beautiful, much studied intricate design, like a Shep Fairey for the dining room. He stood in front of the work, well dressed in a way a doting mother would approve. His smooth face looked coddled. I liked the art work, but I wasn't sure I liked him.

He lived in a foreign land, a hard place with very strong censorship. I wanted to ask, "Is this the art work you are burning to create? Do you suppress your impulses? Create in fear? Worry much? Every painter doesn't have to be a patriot. Are you happy in your study?

'Happy with the study' works for me. I have a pal in Santa Fe who has been painting big flowers for years. Happy as a clam painting mostly daisies and sunflowers. Never a mind to paint an iris. Always evolving on canvas. He is a satisfied mind in his study and art-making.

I looked again at that photo of the artist. I worried for him.

As an art critic, how does one look at such work? Should working freedoms be calculated in a review?

And I am so grateful to be me, here, at this place, at this moment in the world.

Art Report Today .com

MODERN PUBLISHING

Speaking of endeavor and American enterprise, I want to shout out a brassy gal who is launching a quarterly print magazine. I had to meet her, as I immediately questioned her sanity.

Media and the magazine are dead and long buried. To really get looney, the focus of her AC/LV mag is the arts and culture of Las Vegas with an eye on performance. If it was called 'NASCAR Heroes' I might see a chance for success, but Fine Art? Absolutely nuts.

Robin Solnina was not wearing a straitjacket when I met her. Always a good sign. She is a very fun and bright visual artist, who happens to have a history and an esteemed role in the subculture of body painting. After our chat, I diagnosed her as 'extremely competent and lucid.'

We're rooting for you, Robin.

Art Report Today .com

*POP*

We all live in bubbles. Big ones. Little ones. Always have. Always will. And when they *pop,* we usually say "Ouch!"

I live in a world dominated by the Arts. That's heavenly. My bubble is tinted a rosy color. And generally, all is well. I hate leaving it.

When that big bubble 'pops', the real world suddenly appears in black and white. Rose-colored no more. I like to think the world appreciates the Arts as much as I do. When I am reminded of the harsh reality, I just wanna cry.

Lately, I have been scouting a herd of possible patrons for a new work. Observing manners and customs. Learning the way they think. Because of my myopic bubble, I erred. I made a mistake.

They say it makes an ass outta you and me. I assumed they saw the value of the arts and culture. I was wrong. *POP* "Ouch!"

How could I have been so blind? This crowd sees the Arts as a doily. A decoration. A disposable. These people should be throttled.

Now armed with new intel, I have had to make a dramatic pivot. A 180.

I realized I was approaching the establishment, asking for their permission. What was I thinking?

Screw that. Philistines. Back to art basics. Ground Zero. I need to approach them with a smile and a piece of candy on my open palm and I gesture, "Good. Art good."

When a bubble pops, however delusional, action has to be taken. Truth always leads the way. This is not a gig or a day job. It's my next body of work. And I have given it a very catchy title.

As the artist, I am now free to tell 'em how it's gonna go down. On this subject, I do know better. I'm a sailor. A captain of my own ship on a bubble to Neverland.

And suddenly, Life feels great again.

Art Report Today .com