Well, ok, I can’t resist telling the tale.
About 8 years ago I attended a week long workshop in metals held at a fine arts enclave located several miles from the main campus of a university. I have learned to work in silver.
We were given a tour. The head of the glass studio asked at the first words he uttered...... “What’s the difference between a large Domino’s pepperoni pizza and a glass artist?”
“The pizza can feed a family of four.”
But I digress.
Each evening the various work shop heads made presentations and had extensive presentations of their work
The wood work shop was hosted by the out going resident artist in the wood work studio. She showed the pictures and some showed beautiful work in furniture and boxes I think. Most was devoted to her calling however. Her calling and reason for being was to express the dialogue between lines and dots.
She would make door frames and window facing and all sorts of architectural fenestration from wood that received a wash of tempera paint onto which she took an HB pencil and made a dot from which a line extended. The dots were more or less uniform but the lines mostly at right angles were of various lengths. This meticulously applied pencil work was a dialogue between lines and dots.
She was very upset and complained through the whole presentation. She had to leave the security of the wood studio where she had dwelled for about 8 years. She came as a freshman Fine Arts Major, spent 2 more years getting a Masters of Fine arts and then was granted 2 more years as Artist in Residence, Wood Working Studio. At 26 she was kicked out into the hard cold world. She was wonderfully talented and made beautiful stuff. She was hung up as an artist however.....lines and dots.
It was realized that she had to make a living and the solution proposed was a production item. That is artist code for something you make over and over rather than just one at a time. The buzz is “do you have a production item”.
Well she developed one. Mirror Frames that were about 3 “ wide painted in the yellow milk tempera and containing the wonderful hand applied dialogue with lines and dots. So all was well. She had the production item and sold one.
OOps.....there was a problem.
It had to be shipped. She could find no box the right size to ship the frame in. Turns out to get a box or boxes, the frames had to be dimensionally fabricated to a size determined by the box manufacturer. Time for crying...... literally. Her whole artistic world came crashing down.
The box maker destroyed her artistic freedom and thus her integrity and thus her being.
The story had no end. Her final days at the school including the summer workshop gig granted in total pity was at an end. She had no job. She had no prospects. The wonderful production item was distasteful because of the loss of artistic freedom and integrity.
I don’t know what happened but know that she at 26 thought the world was nearing an end
It’s a sad story set in an unjust universe. Does it end with a job as a Walmart cashier? Drug addiction and suicide? Homelessness and penury?
Or back home with mom and dad?