My Glasses Bug Me

Any artist's biggest fear must be the inability to continue to create and I suppose there are a number of possibilities that can cause that to happen. A loss of vision is what has always come to mind for me as a possible debilitating factor and sure enough, as so many others have, I began to have vision issues a few years ago. Reading glasses became necessary for both reading and my artwork. The detail work that is a part of my style requires hours of concentration and I now rely on glasses for any work I do. That goes for my retail job as well. I was miserable with the prospect of getting glasses. It represented something I wasn't yet willing to accept. I'm getting older! When did this happen? After all, I look good for my age, I'm in shape - I don't feel like my eyes tell me I should. Getting glasses for me was like getting notices in the mail from AARP. It was reality slapping me in the face. Soon I'd be able to take advantage of breakfast specials at Denny's and discounts at the movies on Tuesdays. I'm not ready for this. The dreaded visit to purchase my glasses finally took place but not without an extra intense workout at the gym prior to my appointment to assure myself that other parts of me remain vital. I told myself it wasn't a big deal...after all there are very young people that wear glasses and it isn't necessarily a sign of one's age ( am I really this vain?). During my appointment I was told I needed bifocals! Oh my God, don't people that soak their teeth at night wear those? Not me! I won't! Well, I did...and I do. I opted for a frame that I thought would look current and trendy to offset any Grandpa reference. I think they look good but they came with a set of issues. The frames are heavy and they slide down my nose constantly. I believe they cut off my peripheral vision because I can see the frames and I think they limit what I need to see. People think I'm looking at them when I'm not and I can tell as they are walking by that they had smiled at me and I didn't acknowledge them. I run into everything and I'm always bruised. They are an extra thing to think about on a daily basis. I hate it when I forget to bring them to a restaurant and I can't read the menu. I've actually had to ask the waiter to borrow a pair. The pinnacle of my hatred of my dependence to them came the other day. I was at work, carrying several boxes and the glasses had slipped down my nose. I couldn't push them back up because my hands were unavailable and tried unsuccessfully to use one of the boxes. I'm walking down the hall and someone points to my face and says "WHAT'S THAT!?!". I looked at him incredulously and thought maybe a sesame seed was left on my face from my bagel I just ate ( I love those "everything" bagels ) so with boxes in hand I tried to wipe my mouth. He said "no, THAT!!". I found a place to put the boxes down and, thinking he was referring to the fact that my glasses had slipped to close to the bottom of my nose I pushed them back up. One more time he pointed to my face and said "NO, THAT - YOUR GLASSES!!!". I took my glasses off and to my extreme horror there was a WAD OF GUM stuck to the bridge of my glasses ( please see a previous Andrea Marcovicci blog for additional gum mishaps ). How long had I been walking around that way? How could it have happened? Think back. Well, I just had a bagel a bit ago. I had just started chewing gum when I decided I was hungry. I'm not a wasteful person. I wasn't going to throw the gum away that I just started so I discreetly set it aside. I obviously chose to set my glasses aside in the same location. I've always had remarkable aim.

I guess I need some press

As an artist one would think that the primary concern would be developing one's talent, skill and creativity. That, I'm learning, is just the beginning. In order to achieve some sort of success an artist needs to be confident, vocal and assertive; attributes I'm not particularly known for. I would love to be able to stay in my studio and paint 24/7 without the prospect of having to actually sell the work so I can continue the process. Not gonna happen. Being a salesperson of one's own art is using a different side of my brain then what I use to create the art...the less developed side, in my case. Thank goodness I feel good about what I create so that's not the issue but talking about me...ugh, it's painful. I look back on all the years I've spent creating artwork and fortunately I have people that support me and I'm able to have commissionwork on a fairly consistent basis but no one else knows I exist. It's time to change that. Enter the art coach. Toby is wonderful but scary as she is turning upside down the way I think and do things . One thing I've never had is any kind of press and although it was never a conscious decision to avoid it that's exactly what I've done. I try to keep every pearl of wisdom that Toby doles out with me. Last Friday night I was at a Christmas party in Woodside and someone I haven't seen for years was there. She is a retired journalist. I thought that it would be a good idea to ask for a bit of advise. I got my nerve up and asked her if she had any thoughts for someone that has never done an interview or had any press. What I didn't know that I learned that night is that she now freelances for several magazines. She suggested doing a story on me ( she knows my work) and pitching it to a few people. Cue the insecurities - time to worry about whether people would want to read about me. Am I interesting enough? I have no "colorful" and "engaging" personality that other artists have to draw people to them. I just have my talent and I hope that will speak for itself. I won't shy away from it this time and hopefully I'll get through it and some good will come of it. Maybe I'll tell her that I paint with my toes or something.

The Creative Process

For months now I have had an idea for a completely new collection of work. It has been fermenting in me for a very long time and I have had no opportunity to let it manifest itself into reality. I had previously written about how I was determined to protect a body of time that I thought was vital in starting this creative process. I failed at saving that time...or did I? That time, in fact, was used to fulfill my greeting card orders. My greeting cards were started many years ago as an avenue of promoting my watercolors. I thought that it would be a good way to let others know I exist as an artist and here's what I can do. It has developed into a nice sideline and it keeps me quite busy during the holidays. I am about to work with my art coach to see how I can make it profitable year round and start attracting retail interest. Pardon my digression; I was talking about my creative process. If the cards turn out to be worthy of further time investment, that's wonderful but not at the sacrifice of moving forward with new ideas that I must explore.
It's been a very long time since I've had a major show although there have been a few galleries that on a one time basis hosted a show for me. Here's an opportunity for change. I want to create a new collection that is totally unexpected. There's danger in this. I have collectors that like what I do for a reason and to change that may threaten their continued interest. On the other hand there may be potential interest from others not as fond of what I currently do. I've learned long ago not to try and please everyone. It is impossible to do so and not even a desirable thing because I believe that in order to please everyone, a concept would have to be watered down and an edge is lost. So, the new collection. I have a cohesive concept, not a collection of paintings that simply have the common bond of being watercolor, or floral, or whatever. I have a theme! Who knew I was capable of it! I intend on allowing myself to venture out of the box and my comfort level and explore thoughts in a variety of mediums ( this is huge for me as I have primarily worked in watercolor for so many years ). I will also allow my exposure to textile design to seep into my fine art for a new, somewhat contemporary edge. I better not say anything more as I may hate the results - suffice it to say that all this excites me which is a very necessary component.
I'm awed at the prospect that you have actually read through my entire creative process drivel. Congratulations! You've proven to have the stamina it will take should you be waiting to be invited to the opening!

Trying to Dance With the Stars

Yes, I did it. I actually got up out of my seat while watching the finale of "Dancing With the Stars" to see if I could mimic a few of the steps as performed by the finalists. Note to self: furniture shopping this weekend. I am wildly curious. I want to know if I have potential. I feel like I would be the biggest challenge to the unlucky professional that was assigned me but who knows? Haven't there been surprises this season? Would the fact that I have the tightest hamstrings on the west coast and that I can't bend to touch my toes ( or even close ) inhibit me?
What is one's potential in anything when you have the best assisting you toward a goal? Look at how much weight people lose on "The Biggest Loser". Their one focus for 3 months is the gym with their own personal trainer. Would they have accomplished what they have if they'd just joined a gym at home? I think not. So you professionals out there: your biggest challenge awaits. Imagine the accolades received when you deliver me to "dancer" status. Jaws will drop when viewing the "before" footage and sainthood will be discussed. Mold me!

Andrea Marcovicci InTown? Where Should I Hide?

Recently a friend of mine came up to me and asked "aren't you a big fan of Andrea Marcovicci's"?. I was shocked that I let anybody know that but I acknowledged that I was. She went on to tell me that she's been cast for a play or something that is to open next spring. I went cold. Emotions such as elation, anxiety and embarrassment flooded all my senses at once. Unfortunately my very selective memory has allowed every bit of what caused those emotions to stay with me. I'd done a good job of packing those memories up in a tight little box and labeling it "do not open - proof of foolishness enclosed". In my quest for my authentic self I will now reveal the cause of such angst.
I had to see Andrea in person. I remember her bit parts and cameos on TV and remembered hearing she evolved into a singing career and I was always drawn to her as a performer. She was performing at the Plush room in San Francisco. I had to go and I took my partner, Mark to, I think, opening night. The Plush room is intimate; small tables for two near the stage meant for cocktails during performances. One feels rather conspicuous sitting at one. It turns out the songs were love songs. Great...I'm sitting with a guy ( I'm gay but I have limits ) and she's singing love ballads. There was a particular song that she sang and she would focus on a pair at a table as she sang. Please don't come to our table! Please! Not only did she but it was the most sensitive part of the song. I didn't know what to do with myself. I grabbed my drink and reached for the straws to take a sip and the next thing I know the pair of straws went up my nose and stayed there as I pulled the glass away! She looked aghast mid-sentence and immediately moved to the next table. I was mortified and Mark wanted to put his coat over his head. I licked my wounds for days after. At the time I worked at Saks Fifth Avenue in the Men's Furnishings department. There was one day that I was rushing to work. I barely had time to shower and look somewhat presentable. I forgot to brush my teeth and put on deodorant. Not at all like me, just so you know. I consciously tried to help as few customers as possible yet it was fairly busy and I had no choice. I'm straightening the ties and happen to look up and who's coming my way...Miss Marcovicci! Run! Hide by the freight elevator. The doors had windows so I was able to monitor her actions. I couldn't possibly help her! She'd remember! Oh no! No deodorant and I began to sweat out of sheer anxiety. She was standing at the tie counter and no one was approaching her. I had no choice. I put a stick of Juicyfruit in my mouth and went out there. I asked her if I could assist her. There were a few ties she wanted to look at. If I looked familiar she was gracious enough not to acknowledge it. I was afraid to stand too closely, fearing the dampness under my arms would be offensive so I pulled each tie out and flung them on the counter with a slap ( didn't mean to ). She looked at me suspiciously but maintained her politeness. She asked me a question and as I went to answer her MY GUM flew out of my mouth but no, not entirely. Part of it stuck to my lower lip and as I spoke it would bounce on my chin. It happened so fast; I tried to scoop it back in with my tongue but kept missing . I had to peel it off with her inches away looking at me like I was an alien from space. She stared, shook her head and gave a hearty laugh and walked away.
It doesn't end there. Still performing at the Plush room and with time on her hands during the day she came in again the following week. As luck would have it I was the only one on the floor and once again was obliged to help her. What are the chances she'd forgotten? Could it be possible? If she remembered she didn't let on. I was the best smelling guy in San Francisco for months after the "incident" so perhaps she would think twice about me being the fool she had last week as a salesperson. She wanted to know if we had black turtlenecks. I told her that we'd sold out but I was recently at Macy's and saw some there. As she was leaving the department she walked by AN ENTIRE RACK of black turtlenecks. She took one by the hanger, waved it in the air and said " WHAT THE HELL IS THIS"?!. To this day I'm shocked an ambulance or at least paramedics weren't required. My knees buckled and the counter was the only thing preventing me from crumbling to the floor.
So, who wants to go with me next spring?

A Body of Time Protected

I'm determined to save it; to have it remain pure and uncompromised ( not my virginity...please! ). I'm talking about a block of time that I'm protecting for just me. I've got vacation time to take from work before the end of the year. It's a total of 5 days and I'm adding it to my days off so with exception of a few days I have about a 2 week body of time. I intend on using it to finally start a new collection. I have ideas that have been burning in me for months and any time I attempt to have any of them realized an obligation rears it's ( not so ) ugly head so I hold off. Now don't get me wrong. These responsibilities are self-imposed. I'm fortunate enough to have frequent commissions and I have my greeting card business that keeps me consistently busy. This is actually the time that I'm the most busy as I focus on my Holiday 2007 collection and I am currently peddling those. That's why you haven't heard from me of late. Did you miss me? I'm working very hard now so that I will be as unencumbered as possible by the end of the month. What unforseen factors must I wage war against? I desperately need a new collection and I've been wanting to take my work in a new direction. I wish I could be Harry Potter and use my wand to put a spell on all those around me for that body of time...yes, everyone frozen in time except for me. Actually, it's Friday. I'd like to use it for my commute home, too!

Honestly, at my age!

There's something to be said about working in an office where everyone is half your age. You are exposed to what is current and hip ( is the word "hip" current? ) and if you can wade through some silliness there are occasional jewels of wisdom and a unique perspective of life that gets lost when one reaches my age. To add to that my office is entirely female so I'm well aware on a daily basis what Britney is up to ( is she really still trying to drive herself! ) and how so and so is wasting away to nothing. I believe that my exposure to all this effects my art in a positive way ( keepin' it fresh! ). Having said that, I'm not in my twenties...not at all attractive to act like it but I do like hanging out with Suzanna. She gets me on many levels and I'm energized around her. Last week I had a day that I stayed in the city after work. I had time to kill before I was to join a group of friends and Suzanna was waiting for someone to get off work so we decided to spend some time in Union Square. I had a mission and she was more than willing to accompany me. I wanted a hat. I do not have a pretty head so hats are generally not great on me but I was determined to find one that would do me justice. Off we went to Macy's where I had previously seen a few that potentially could be OK. Right away I noticed the hat I'd been thinking about was gone so we looked at everything. Suzanna noticed a cap that she thought looked good and I tried it on. I have caps. I need a hat. It looked good on me, we both agreed. "You know what" she said, "I think I'm going to get this for Chris" ( a guy she's seeing ). I had to have the cap. I could not allow anyone else to own it. That cap was validated by someone in an age category that knows what's current...what's cool! Who would have thought that I'd be in competition over an article of clothing with someone half my age and the opposite sex to boot! How dare she consider buying this! It was meant for her to find it for me. How do I do this? Well, I got lucky. She spotted the perfect hat for her! I sheepishly encouraged her to try it on and it was perfect for her. "How could you rationalize buying both" I told her. You can't put your hat back. It shows off your features. You look hot in it! Sold. I got my cap and we're very happy together.
Thanks Suzanna. I know you know what I was up to. Love you for it. Mean it. Honestly, at my age!

This Starving Artist Thing Is Getting Old

Ok, success...I'm waiting! Hey, over here. Can't you see me? Well, I do feel invisible sometimes. I'm a damn good artist but I suck at self promotion. To be struggling after having produced good work throughout my lifetime seems so twisted. It's war now, baby. I've pulled out the guns and hired an art mentor, an art coach if you will. I don't know how I feel about paying someone to highlight my flaws when I've always gotten that for free but I'm going for it anyway.
I've got a retail job that barely helps me make it week to week and has somehow turned into my career after all these years when it was meant to supplement my artistic pursuits. I've avoided any management position or any promotion to maintain a situation where I had little responsibility so I'd have the energy to go home and be creative. Vicious circle, guys. Gotta have the job to support the habit but the job ( including nasty commute ) takes away the body of time I need to create enough to make a dent. I know, you've heard this story a million times. ART FOR SALE! ART FOR SALE! ( my stab at self promotion ).

Mystery trip revealed

For many years now I have enjoyed a wonderful friendship with a group of guys. The majority of them live in the San Diego area. It all started with a cruise to Mexico where my partner and I met Dan. He then introduced us to a group of his friends and I enjoyed them all but in particular, David who for about 18 years now I have been in almost daily contact with. There are three couples that have been together for a minimum of 27 years ( that includes me ) and it is wonderful to have the history we've created together.
Two years ago one of those couples surprised us by including us in a celebration of an important birthday. He and his partner hosted 14 of us on a wonderful 2 week cruise on the QM2 to the Caribbean. It was a trip not to be forgotten. Last year we wanted to reciprocate so we planned a long weekend in Calistoga...with a twist. We never let anyone know what the destination was and sent an occasional clue to make it fun. Building the anticipation made the experience before the actual trip as much fun as the actual weekend and I think we were truly able to surprise them. We had great dinners in Calistoga, St. Helena, etc, spa treatments and an excursion to a Ca'toga, a wonderful estate that features Carlo Marchiori's trompe l'oeil work.
We experienced David and Mike's surprise trip this last weekend. For months we have been getting "tube mail" with sort of clues that went into a beautiful album he'd sent. Pages would arrive beautifully styled with a sentiment that would elude to some aspect of what we would expect. Finally the morning of our flight arrived. We were instructed to open the final clue on the plane which told us to look for a sign upon arrival. At baggage claim we were easily able to identify our driver by that signage. He sped us off to our destination - a wonderful inn and spa in La Jolla where we checked our bag with the doorman who instructed us to meet our hosts at the restaurant for lunch. The six of us accounted for, we toasted the beginning of what we knew would be a memorable time and were happy to be at such a beautiful resort. After lunch Mike went to check on the rooms - not quite ready yet. He asked us to join him outside where a van was waiting to take us on an excursion while we waited. We're driving...and driving. I happened to look behind me and noticed that all our luggage was in the back of the van! Lunch was a ruse! Now, where are we headed? With every offramp we speculated as to whether the driver would exit. Finally there was no denying that we were crossing the border into Mexico! I'd never been in Baja so seeing the Mexican coast was a treat. The speculations grew and finally when we reached Ensanada and turned we knew we were headed for the wine country!
We enjoyed a great weekend full of wine, mexican train, incredible meals, horseback riding and sunning by the pool while watching grapes being harvested. The hosts of the ranch were also owners of the vineyard, celebrities in the valley and very entertaining.
No detail was overlooked by our hosts and the bar was definitely raised!

Why Am I Doing This?

How daunting!
A place to express my daily thoughts, frustrations, challenges, successes and failures!
A blog would be an incredibly cathartic thing ( kind of like the nude gentlemen on the Washington Mutual commercial - I like the idea of feeling "free like a birdswallow" ) but that poses a concern. Just how much of myself do I expose and feel comfortable knowing that I have just put information available to the world that any millions of people have access to. Considering my impending fame and fortune, will this come to haunt me? Let's say I talk about my incredible lust for Tom Ford and the fact that should I ever have the opportunity...I WOULD act on it without question or remorse. Well, that's potentially harmful to say the least and the reprocussions could force me to turn to drink or worse which would then require rehab and roomsharing with Lindsey. Should I be anonymous and lay it all out or show taste and discretion with little fodder for gossip? Something to think about.
Having said that, here goes.
Foremost on my mind, a trip that has been in the works for some time takes place in a few days. I don't know where I'm going except that my partner and I are being flown to San Diego. We have been receiving clues on a weekly basis which has been very exciting yet they are extremely vague offering little direction. That's ok, I can deal...it's just that I have a wardrobe thing.
I wrote to my host asking for a little more info about wardrobe ( all he mentioned was to pack similar to what was necessary for our trip to Calistoga at this time last year but that was north and I'm presuming we're staying south ). He wrote back and told me all my assumptions were correct. My partner says "keep it light" which he always lives up to. I like to be prepared for anything and I like having "options". My partner is trying to eliminate that word from my fashion vocabulary. What if we go clubbing? Gotta have the right thing. It would behoove me to bring something that would be appropriate to...let's say the gay rodeo ( you never know ) so I've gotta bring my sleeveless denim and cowboy hat. The possibilities are endless. I must be prepared. My partner packs a pant. A pair of shoes. A shirt. Shorts. Swimsuit. THAT'S IT. Somehow he makes it work.