Framing your own work isn't always a super idea.  

Some galleries take on the responsibility of framing, but many galleries ask the artist to provide the art framed.  If they haven't given you specific guidelines as to what they want, you are on your own. 

Many 2-D artists struggle with framing costs and turn to on-line sources for special order frames.  But unless you have a background in framing, including the craftsmanship to do a professional job, you might be wasting not only your time but your money -- because poorly framed art generally does not sell.

If you opt for the do-it-yourself route, beware these common pitfalls:

Your frame does not complement the artwork, the width is too narrow or too wide, or it's too "difficult" to hang comfortably in a group setting.  Overly ornate frames can be awkward to place on a wall that must accommodate a grouping of different artwork in different frames.  Not only must the artwork "flow" but the framing must also "flow" for the eye to move comfortably. And for clients to visualize it "living comfortably" in their home. 

If you're re-using a frame, give it a close inspection before asking someone to sell it for you.  Be sure it's in the condition you would demand if you were being asked to pay the retail price.

Don't forget the back - it's just as important as the front.  Make sure your backing paper is evenly trimmed, not dried out or torn, and firmly attached.  Your wires should be tightly and neatly twisted, with the sharp ends either crimped under or wrapped in tape.  Don't forget the wall bumpers.  Before the sale is finalized, many clients will hold the artwork, turn it over and look at the back.  Don't blow the sale with a sloppy finish.

Your drawing flaws make the piece a white elephant.

A lot of sales have been lost due to drawing flaws.  If your work is intended to be representational, the public has little tolerance for anything that seems "off."  In fact, if they spot something that doesn't make visual sense it immediately becomes the subject of conversation and you can't move them off it.

Often these drawing flaws are overlooked by the artist who "already knows what it is."  Sometimes they are intentional.  But if a prospective client sees a painting that just looks wrong, there's no amount of brush work or great color that can get them past their belief that the river "flows uphill."

Your style looks too easy.

People buy art that impresses them, inspires them, or affects them emotionally in some way.  And many women - who are the primary purchasers of art - are creative people themselves.  If it looks like something they think they could do on their own, they won't buy it.

However, people are always impressed by superlative technique, whether the work is realistic or abstract.  Set the bar high and don't settle for "easy."

The secret reason why your bio is important.  

The purpose of your bio is to concisely demonstrate the professional level of your work and the consistency of your output using one paragraph and a listing by date of your accomplishments.

Write clearly, not extravagantly. Describe your style and influences in a single sentence.   State how long you have been working professionally, and explain your background and training. Explain what distinguishes your art from that of others, and augment this with a brief description of your artistic philosophy. By adding a quote and/or mentioning where you live, your family, or when you were born, you add a personal impression to the facts. 

Your consistency is demonstrated by the number and professional level of the juried and solo shows you've participated in, by your membership in professional organizations, and any awards and honors you've received, collections (sales) and gallery associations.  This information is usually listed by date, most recent first, in a standard format.  One or two pages is usually enough, although if you feel the need, you can add the words "additional information upon request."

If you don't have a long list of accomplishments, include what you do have in the listing.  Keep in mind the real purpose and work toward fleshing out the missing pieces as quickly as you can.  In the mean time, have a really strong, extremely large body of work to show. You want to communicate that if your work starts selling, you'll be able to consistently provide new work at the same technical level.

Extras that mark you as a professional.

Label the back of your artwork with the title and your name.  Many artists include a document with an image of the artwork, the date of creation, materials and other technical information (such as how to clean it), perhaps a small artist statement regarding the work.  You can use a clear plastic page protector, attached to the backing paper with double sided tape, then slip the document inside.

Prepare an artist statement that fits the work and include it on a separate piece of quality resume paper.  Include a quote from yourself, usually one or two sentences in quotation marks within the body of the statement.  Think about what you would like the gallery to say about you in any press release or publicity piece they might put out. If the gallery uses a blog to promote new work, get an idea of what they traditionally post. 

Include a CD with your images - last name and title -- at high resolution 300 pixels per inch (ppi).  The gallery can resize down for web applications or easily send an image to newspapers or magazines for print.  Try to anticipate what a gallery might need.  Don't expect them to contact you or hunt down the information on their own because they won't have the time and will move on to an artist who did provide the material. 

Why you might be accepted by a gallery in spite of "all the above."

There is no one-generalization-fits-all for art galleries. Some galleries are more flexible than others on what they accept.  Just as there are all levels of galleries, there are different reasons why an artist might have his work accepted.  It could be that the gallery director sees something worth exploring.  Or perhaps they don't really know what will sell now so they're putting everything up.  But regardless, you, the artist, should be doing everything you can to make sure that no matter what the reason why, once you're there you put yourself in the strongest position possible. go home

As Barney Davey said on his facebook post: "Leonard Cohen - Hallelujah - at age 74 with more inspiring soul stirring passion than others half his age."

These are a few of the opening sentences in Stephen R. Covey's new book, The 8th Habit, From Effectiveness to Greatness.

If you follow this blog, you know that I read a lot of books, and about 75% of them are not about art. But "Art" doesn't live in a vacuum, apart from the rest of our lives.  What  works and doesn't work in our "real" world is the same sort of stuff that works or doesn't work in our "Art" world.

If we were in our early 20's, our "Art" lives would be different.  We'd have the time and freedom to explore ideas, themes, techniques, and problems with the enthusiasm of one who sees no end in sight.  As we age, though, it's natural that "the end" begins creeping toward our horizon.  I received an email recently from Casey Klahn who explained,

"One thing I've discovered as an older artist is that it is important for me to start "at the top". I am not a school kid, after all!"

I remember feeling times of great urgency, a limited window of opportunity that I was going to miss - and still do.  I remember pushing myself nearly to the point of exhaustion and then feeling frustrated with the results - and still do.  So how do we achieve a sense of balance between the urgency of the Muse and the realization there might not be enough time left to do all we dream about doing?
 

Here are some ideas to get you thinking:

• Believe that there is enough time to do what you are supposed to do.  Once I freed myself from the belief that time was working against me, my life became easier.  I would walk into my studio and not feel the self-imposed pressure to create something that would "sell now!"  In fact, I realized the more I tried to answer that demand of "sell now!" (which was a form of needing to justify what I was doing) the worse my work became - and the more frustrated I felt.

• Realize that the "top" is only a marker on the spiral, just a "starting point" for the next growth cycle.  I understand where Casey is coming from when he says he needs to start "at the top."  Because we are entering the art market at a mature age, the art market expects a high level of competency.  Our work can't be excused as young and brash, full of passion, short on technique, but loads of potential.  So it's necessary to study artists working at the levels of competency to which we aspire in order to ensure that our work is comparable before we approach the market.

• Growth requires us to "hate" our work periodically.  I once had an exercise t-shirt that read : "No Pain, No Gain."  I wasn't into pain, so I never saw much gain. Its the same with art.   Being stuck, feeling anxious, frustrated, angry, experiencing the emotional pain of hating what I'm producing - I used to dread it.  I still dread that moment of walking into the studio and looking at the painting I just finished and immediately "hating" it. But I've come to realize these are messages from my unconscious, my artistic soul, telling me, "hey, you gotta move on here!  Your work was fine for where you were last year, but this is Now."  

• Become your own best mentor.  Be kind to yourself.  When you grow to the point of recognizing there is something missing in your work - rejoice.  It means you've developed your "eye" to the point where you're able to progress, and that you're not suffering from what Robert Genn calls "Kalopsia"  (an interesting read in the click-backs).  And as your own best mentor, take on the responsibility of learning what else you might need to know at this point on the spiral - whether you watch instructional DVD's, read books, draw daily, paint daily -- whatever you do, begin to expand your practice consistently.

• It's also okay to work within your comfort zone.  Out of curiosity, I started reading art blogs coming out of the New York Art Scene.  I quickly discovered that I didn't belong in that rarefied world of artspeak, critical laceration, bizarre theory, shock art, power plays, movers and shakers, blog wars, hoaxes and non-hoaxes pretending to be hoaxes...okay, too much hyperbole here.  My point is only that it's better to focus energy where you know you want it and not spend it where it drains away your enthusiasm.  Activism, while fondly remembered, might be better left to the young.

So what is Covey's 8th Habit?

The 8th Habit "is to Find Your Voice and Inspire Others to Find Theirs" (p. 5).

Interesting, huh?

It was culture shock.  But more than that.  It was the shock of realizing I was rapidly approaching the gray realm of Old Age.  My first small encounters with...ageism.

Ageism is insidious in that it is so acceptable.  Logical.  It is also based -- at least with regard to late-life creativity -- on scientific research that reinforces traditional views about aging and the mental and physical decline models.

Even when it comes to "creativity" -- something that can't be touched, tested, or accurately measured, let alone understood --  the scientific community  still relies on research that is "objective" and "measurable" -- sort of like trying to catch a fish with your hands.  The easiest one to grab becomes the archetype for the "Creative Old Guy."

But I recently started reading a book by Martin S. Lindauer, titled AGING, CREATIVITY, AND ART, A Positive Perspective on Late-Life Development.

This is a very recent book, with a copyright date of 2003, and reads like a research paper with numerous citations.

It is still worth the effort.

Because here is the good news.  According to Lindauer,  new research reveals that over time, creative people increase both the quality of their artistic output, and the quantity, over their lifetimes, with productivity peaking during their 60's, but the quality of the output remaining steady at the lifetime highs well into the 70's.

Even for artists working in their 80's, their quality ratings were higher -- get that, higher! -- than when  they were in their 20's and 30's.

How can this be?   

According to Lindauer, there are seven characteristics that distinguish "old artists and late art from young artists and youthful efforts." 

• "Older artists have more knowledge and are less career oriented.
• "They also have less energy - the only case where older artists were at a disadvantage to younger ones..."
• "...which they compensated for with greater maturity, concentration, and self-acceptance."
• "Older artists were also less critical than their younger counterparts."
• "However, in two areas, creativity and experimentation, older artists were seen as equal to younger practitioners." (2003, pp.187-188)

Further, while discussing the age at which an artist's "Old Age Style" might emerge, Lindauer wrote, "...the 60-year-old artists, and many of the 70-year-olds who were studied, were 'too young' to have an old-age style."

Re-read that last part again: even the 70-year-olds were too young to have an old age style!

Sometimes the challenges of reinventing yourself at mid-life can seem so daunting that you want to give up.  I know that for me, discouragement became my constant companion to the point where I nearly gave up on the whole "career" idea, caught up in my fear of having "missed the creative boat." 

But knowing that, at 60, I am still decades away from having an "Old Age Style" has renewed my energy, sending me back out into the creative world with rekindled optimism.

I hope to see  you all there!