The sale that changed everything
/It doesn't seem that long ago when I felt somewhat adrift in my little art world.
I knew I wanted to fill my days creating stuff, expressing how I see and feel about the world through painting and illustration, but I didn't have any specific goals as such.
That is, until the new year rolled around. In January 2017 I decided to study more about expressionism, practice daily and build my creative confidence to the point I would be painting larger scale works by the end of the year and possibly sell enough pieces of work to fund a new garden art studio.
When I set this goal, I never imagined that I would achieve it by the end of the year, but I'm thrilled to tell you that I am currently writing this to you from my new art studio!
Welcome to Art by Flynn's new home!
It feels awesome to have a permanent professional space that I don't have to pack away when we have guests stay over!
How I arrived here, wasn't quite as I'd planned, but I'd like to share a little of the story with you as it answers a question I posed a few months ago.
Back in August, I wrote a blog asking "When will I feel like an artist?" Some would say that merely declaring myself an artist should be enough: if I create art, then I'm an artist, but it didn't feel that simple for me.
Since I quit screenwriting, it's been hard making the transition from writer to artist and I was beginning to worry that I'd never make the full transition; that in my heart I'll always be a failed screenwriter pretending to be an artist.
However, it all changed with the sale of this painting:
San Francisco View from Russian Hill 30x40" (recycled fabric, acrylic paint and inks)
Not only is this my largest painting to date (30x40 inches), it's also my most expressive in terms of process.
The canvas began life as my screenwriting notice board, a space I'd pin sticky notes and worksheets when plotting a script. I'd also pasted a bunch of my favourite script pages all over the canvas for inspiration.
Mid way through this year I couldn't hold back the urge to paint something big any longer and the only canvas I had to hand was this one.
I covered the canvas with thick acrylic paint, but the pasted script pages kept bubbling and refused to die!
So, I grabbed a sheet of cotton from my studio desk that's covered in ink blotches and smears and wrapped it around the canvas creating a lovely new painting surface.
The finished painting was displayed in my favourite local coffee shop where a customer saw it, wanted it and bought it!
Something very powerful happened with this sale.
As the canvas started life as something practical and became a piece of art that stirred a deep emotion in a stranger, I became an artist.
The sale gave me confidence in my process and ability; it affirmed my instinct to create larger scale works; to begin to trust myself; to have the courage to invest in my art; to give myself permission to try no matter what the outcome.