Rebooting

Everything has gone, and I’m:

  • Getting to know Dunedin.

  • Using the question, “What if I let myself be happy?” as my North Star while I define my Big Question.

  • Holding a space open for something new to emerge.

  • Rebooting my website.

Notes and observations from Everything Must Go

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Everything has gone.


Written here as much as a note to self. I may explore deeper at a later date:

Seeing people looking at, enjoying, and buying work from the studio was good.

The dangers/difficulty of operating in the middle ground

People are buying works they’ve previously wanted but cannot afford. The challenge for artists is to sell work at 100s of dollars or for tens of hundreds of dollars. While I imagine there is room in the thousands of dollars range, somehow, I think (I have no evidence) there are not as many collectors (or there is not as much available money) in the middle bracket.

People have hundreds of dollars or tens of thousands of dollars to spend. Not the thousands of dollars. (Again, I have no evidence for this!)

The challenge of “pay what you want.”

People were often unsure what to spend when I said, “pay what you want” for work, even after I told them what pieces were previously priced. Putting a price on a painting makes it easier for people to decide if they can afford it.

Make it as easy for people to buy work as possible

As an artist, especially without representation, making it easy for people to buy work is smart. And yes, that means putting a price on the work; it means making it clear the work is for sale and making it as easy as possible for someone to buy it.

Reactions to destruction

I found reactions from people when learning I was going to destroy my work interesting: several were in the “Oh you can’t” and the “Let’s find a way to save or use them”. Once we’d talked, others could see my rationale and the possible liberation I was hoping for.

I do not want to continue to carry my work around with me. Psychologically, financially, and physically it is draining.

The work has already lived a useful life in many ways. I’ve learnt plenty from doing the work: improving my technique, testing compositions, playing with colour relationships, etc. Making one piece enables me to make the next piece. That a painting can find another life is lovely.

All up, Everything Must Go was a fascinating and valuable experience!

Everything has gone

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Sliced.


Everything has gone. Well, from the studio, at least.

Paintings sold found new homes (thank you!); those left are now destroyed.

Destruction, I found, is not an easy task, physically or emotionally, but ultimately, one I hope to be liberating.

The coming eight days are ones of moving with all the associated hullabaloo and logistics, boxes and bubble wrap, friends and farewells.

Everything is in motion.

Studio chaos

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The studio


As you can see, it’s a little crazy in the studio right now. Fortunately, I’ve got the use of another studio as there are way too many paintings to unwrap and hang in one space.

I’m learning:

  • a studio sale every 12 - 18 months is probably a brilliant idea to force the clearing of work and encourage engagement with supporters,

  • my record keeping could be better,

  • and I’ve made some damn good paintings.

And apologies in advance if it’s a little crazy… there’s a heap of work, much bubble wrap, and a bit of organising to do!

Storage, studio, and an upcoming sale

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Boxes and paintings in the studio.


Yesterday with the help of a man, a van, and an assistant, my mix of art and non-art objects was moved from storage to the studio.

Once I’ve separated the art from non-art, my task is to select ten pieces to keep. The remaining works, provided I hold my nerve, will be included in an “Everything must go!” studio sale in about ten days.

Yup, I’m having a studio sale. Prices will be keen—the exact dates and times to follow.