Painting in public. Or not.
by Andrea Mulder-Slater
It should be fairly obvious to everyone by now, that I am not a people person. It's not that I don't like people (well, most people), it's that I'm just really, really uncomfortable around them.
If you don't believe me, just go ahead and try to strike up a conversation. I'll want to chat (I really will) but in the end, we'll both be hearing crickets. (Or worse. )
And the thing is, the thoughts in my head are often far more interesting (albeit more inappropriate) than what comes out of my mouth.
It is for this reason that painting in public is excruciatingly painful for me. Because, you know... people. And while most folks are delightful, some are less than sublime and others are downright offensive. I get it, they don't know what to say either. I mean, artists are weird and you never know when one of them is going to cut off an ear or develop syphilis, right?
Trouble is, I don't have the nerve to speak my mind -- in person. However, in print I'm such a charmer. That's a joke, by the way.
So, here, in no particular order... are 20 comments and questions heard while painting in public -- followed by my responses. And my thoughts.
What I'm thinking: Of course not, I’m a dental hygienist. See my utensils?
What I'm thinking: Actually no, I just tossed the guy who was here into the ocean so I could steal his canvas.
What I'm thinking: Well aren't you original. It's not like I haven't heard that 1000 times before.
What I'm thinking: I’m not sure what you want me to say here. I'm sorry?
What I'm thinking: I'm so freaking happy for you.
What I'm thinking: That depends. Do you have a better offer?
What I'm thinking: Would it be fun if I told you I was a brain surgeon?
ps: It's 11'oclock in the morning. This is daytime.
What I'm thinking: I wish I had an invisibility shield. Zap. Crap. Nope, not working.
What I'm thinking: I’ll bet you’re proud of me too.
What I'm thinking: Thanks for asking but I know you're just making small talk and have absolutely no intention of buying my work so shoo.
What I'm thinking: Four hundred and thirty-three hours. And 17 seconds. Give or take. Thanks for asking.
What I'm thinking: Mostly I show in meat-packing factories. But galleries might be something for me to look into. Thank god I ran into you.
What I'm thinking: Yes, I know her. She's kind of a shithead and the fact that you like her work makes me question your judgement.
What I say: Yes.
What I'm thinking: I thought you might be a snob but now I know for sure.
What I say: No.
What I'm thinking: If I say yes does that make me a failure in your eyes?
What I'm thinking: Ok Sherlock. It’s a boat. A freaking boat. It’s that boat, in the harbor, right in front of me. Can you stop talking now?
What I'm thinking: Haha. I'll be your wife regrets marrying you.
What I'm thinking: Yes. I am Just. That. Good. Would you like me to paint you a horse now?
What I'm thinking: I don’t even know what that means.
What I'm thinking: Seriously? Good luck to me? WTF?
What I say: Sure
What I'm thinking: What not? You’ve stolen my time, you might as well steal my soul too.
Yeah, I know that was 21 comments/questions. Just wanted to see if you were paying attention.
And now, because I can't be the only artist who has painted in public (with expected results), I have created a handy visual aid.
You're welcome.
No, really.
It should be fairly obvious to everyone by now, that I am not a people person. It's not that I don't like people (well, most people), it's that I'm just really, really uncomfortable around them.
If you don't believe me, just go ahead and try to strike up a conversation. I'll want to chat (I really will) but in the end, we'll both be hearing crickets. (Or worse. )
And the thing is, the thoughts in my head are often far more interesting (albeit more inappropriate) than what comes out of my mouth.
It is for this reason that painting in public is excruciatingly painful for me. Because, you know... people. And while most folks are delightful, some are less than sublime and others are downright offensive. I get it, they don't know what to say either. I mean, artists are weird and you never know when one of them is going to cut off an ear or develop syphilis, right?
Trouble is, I don't have the nerve to speak my mind -- in person. However, in print I'm such a charmer. That's a joke, by the way.
So, here, in no particular order... are 20 comments and questions heard while painting in public -- followed by my responses. And my thoughts.
"Are you an artist?"
What I say: Yes.
What I'm thinking: Of course not, I’m a dental hygienist. See my utensils?
"Did you paint that?"
What I say: Yes.
What I'm thinking: Actually no, I just tossed the guy who was here into the ocean so I could steal his canvas.
"I can’t draw a straight line."
What I say: That’s funny, neither can I. (smiles)
What I'm thinking: Well aren't you original. It's not like I haven't heard that 1000 times before.
"I don’t have a creative bone in my body."
What I say: Oh, heh heh. Um.
What I'm thinking: I’m not sure what you want me to say here. I'm sorry?
"My Great Aunt was an artist."
What I say: Oh, that's nice.
What I'm thinking: I'm so freaking happy for you.
"Do you make a living from art?"
What I say: It can be difficult, but I make out okay.
What I'm thinking: That depends. Do you have a better offer?
"Do you have a day job?"
What I say: I'm an artist.
What I'm thinking: Would it be fun if I told you I was a brain surgeon?
ps: It's 11'oclock in the morning. This is daytime.
"I wish I could paint."
What I say: You might surprise yourself.
What I'm thinking: I wish I had an invisibility shield. Zap. Crap. Nope, not working.
"You are so creative."
What I say: Thank you.
What I'm thinking: I’ll bet you’re proud of me too.
"How much would you charge for a painting of ____________?"
What I say: For this size? Around $100.00.
What I'm thinking: Thanks for asking but I know you're just making small talk and have absolutely no intention of buying my work so shoo.
"How long will it take you to finish that?"
What I say: Oh, another hour or so.
What I'm thinking: Four hundred and thirty-three hours. And 17 seconds. Give or take. Thanks for asking.
"Do you show your work in, you know, galleries?"
What I say: Sometimes.
What I'm thinking: Mostly I show in meat-packing factories. But galleries might be something for me to look into. Thank god I ran into you.
"Do you know _________? She’s an artist too. I love her work."
What I say: Yes, I know her.
What I'm thinking: Yes, I know her. She's kind of a shithead and the fact that you like her work makes me question your judgement.
"Did you go to school for art?"
What I say: Yes.
What I'm thinking: I thought you might be a snob but now I know for sure.
"Did you draw that out first?"
What I say: No.
What I'm thinking: If I say yes does that make me a failure in your eyes?
"What are you painting?"
What I say: Oh, just that boat over there.
What I'm thinking: Ok Sherlock. It’s a boat. A freaking boat. It’s that boat, in the harbor, right in front of me. Can you stop talking now?
"Is that paint by number?"
What I say: Haha. No.
What I'm thinking: Haha. I'll be your wife regrets marrying you.
"Is that from memory?"
What I say: No.
What I'm thinking: Yes. I am Just. That. Good. Would you like me to paint you a horse now?
"Do you paint by heart?"
What I say: Not usually.
What I'm thinking: I don’t even know what that means.
"Good luck to you!"
What I say: Thank you.
What I'm thinking: Seriously? Good luck to me? WTF?
"Can I take a photo?"
What I say: Sure
What I'm thinking: What not? You’ve stolen my time, you might as well steal my soul too.
Yeah, I know that was 21 comments/questions. Just wanted to see if you were paying attention.
And now, because I can't be the only artist who has painted in public (with expected results), I have created a handy visual aid.
You're welcome.
No, really.
