Last Night's Simple Dream
It's a silly thing, I suppose - sharing something like a dream with no meaning and no reason other than that it was...it was just nice. It wasn't deep, and there's no plot. There's no moral to the story, and nothing to work out. No problems to solve, and nothing that memorable, except, it was nice.
I'd hosted a small party of about 20 people for an informal, possibly pot luck, get together. It was my house, and nice and dark and comfortable. There were groups of 3 and 5's of people chatting in the living room and on the front porch. It was dusk and very relaxed. I had thought of opening my office/library for mingling, but had the French doors closed. I was looking around to see if I needed to tidy anything or if anyone needed coffee or sodas, when someone told me we had another guest, and it was Gene.
He was an old friend, and they said he needed to see me. I wondered what was up, but was glad to see him, and took him through the party, as everyone said their, "Hellos." I offered we could talk in the library, and he said, very cheerfully, "Why don't we go for a ride?" I thought it sounded like fun, so we went out the back door where cars were parked. I said, "Why don't we take both cars?" and he thought it was a great idea. I've no idea what happened to whatever it was he wanted to talk about. This was Gene Wilder, by the way. Great to see him, and I did not know him, but in the dream.
I set out driving on a road I've driven on in many dreams. I don't know where I'm imagining, but it curves gently, and sometimes there's a bridge, and I drive off a small ramp to the Right and down to a creek that leads into the large body of water, and I sit alone on the large reddish or rust colored, smooth boulder with my feet hanging off, away from everyone, and I watch the water. It is the most peaceful, beautiful dream.
This time, Gene was driving behind me, and I could see him smiling in the mirror. There is always a curve that I'm more careful on, so as not to go off the road. I saw it ahead just as Gene passed me smiling, and turned Right, out into the water, and I laughed, and thought, "That's just like Gene," and his car became a motorized John boat. He waved with a laughter filled, "Until next time," and I was glad I got to see him, and glad to see him happy.
I thought I'd drive down to the little off ramp that took me to the boulder where I could sit and watch the water. I kept thinking it was a beautiful day.
tinajonesart
tinajonesart blog. Here, you'll find the thoughts of an artist, possibly some artwork, and most definately me.
Thursday, July 16, 2020
Wednesday, July 1, 2020
Thoughts on Mourning: Recent passing of Carl Reiner
Thoughts on Mourning: (Mel Brooks after Carl Reiner's death.)
Thoughts.... I'm worried about Mel Brooks. He was married to that ridiculously pretty lady, and it hurt him when she died. Anne Bancroft, that was her name. They seemed so in love. Carl Reiner sort of made it bearable for him. They did an old Black and White bit together. I saw an interview, and the two of them talked like an old married couple finishing one another's sentences...laughing. They've been friends so long, and Mr. Reiner passed away last night. So wrong. I mean, maybe Ms. Bancroft and Mr. Reiner had their, "Forever after" in Mel Brooks, and he's done nothing but give us all laughs, but damn. What about his forever after? It's just not right. I don't mind being, "Alone." I like a quiet life of solitude, but it's not for everyone, and I don't think it's for Mel Brooks. He was good at being one of a pair. I think if people are close friends or couples, then both of them should have to live until they both croak, so no one has to miss anybody. That's all.
The part that didn't go on Facebook, about me.
It's not fair to me that some people really do love one another, and it lasts so many years, and grows and they bond, then it's gone. I know there is no better way. It's the design, perhaps, and everyone has a story, but if it lasts, then I think it might be worse letting go. If you did the work, and got to that place together, it ought to last. Of course, I've lost people, and loves of my life began dropping off when I was a teen, and three more followed over the years. It was worth it every time,at least to me to love and be loved, and although I was gutted, after a little healing, I was glad that, if they had to go, at least someone gentle was with them, at least someone loved them, and it was me rather than someone who'd be mean.
I was their, "Forever after." I had to find something to hold on to, something that wouldn't die, and that's why I began meditating. It comforted me when arms could not. Every death is horrible and even if you know it's coming, it rips a person apart. If not for thinking at least they had someone, then it would all be so useless. sighs.
That pain is so great, that it rivals the pain of being alone, and eventually I came to peace with accepting either way, peace no matter which way the tears fell, and peace even when, seemingly blasphemous, I felt something like ...happiness.
There is sorrow the depths of which I cannot describe walking around with my love and serenity. Is this what it is to be human? I think it is. I had to love, and if people can't live forever, and if I were to have no forever after or something that arrived near the end which no one can count on, or not, then I would crack myself open. Boundaries, and hopelessness be damned! I'd love the whole World exactly as it was, and not even death could stop me.
Sometimes I look at the statues of nuns in bliss over the expanse of their love and maybe there's something bigger to cause it, maybe it's the nature of humans. All I know is I've lived a life that didn't need "Eternal" love, else it would have been there, and my god, it felt like I needed it, but I was wrong. I felt the desperate hunger everyone else does, but the sustenance of romantic passion was fleeting and somehow not a thing that I could hold on to, no matter how much they wanted to stay and how much I wanted them....to stay. Sighs, I know this love, and somehow it is for others. Still self pity, balm that it may be, is no sustenance.
What I needed more than anything was to love, so I did, and subsequently found myself loved. Isn't that strange, delightfully strange? I may not get to have a forever after with one, and I've found peace with the bittersweet beauty of love anyway, but this is not a path I'd wish on anyone. It is hard, harder than building walls against it, the surrender to love or let go always in limbo and open empath in bliss and agony. I re-feel the sorrow of letting that dream die whenever someone else experiences catastrophic loss. I pray they find someone else, but should they not, I know another way. I may be insane, and I recommend it, but I know love that's greater than I can at times bear. Still, even as I melt in moments into love itself, sighs. You can't really split a cookie with or hold Universal Love.
I'm o.k. to grow old this way or not. I'm open to romantic love and have been for many years. It doesn't come anymore, now that I don't hunt it down, neither fighting it, nor seeking. I laugh at myself. It never was something to capture or hide from. In truth, it just happened, and it stopped happening. I don't know why, and that's o.k.
I'm also open to being in solitude. At times partnered, I longed for such quiet too, but again I tell you, you can be happy either way. I don't skip through fields of flowers single, but I didn't do that coupled either. Either way, there's good work to be done, play to be had, and satisfaction mixed with desires. Either way, there is growth, rest and reflection. Overall, although, I pine romantic at times, I have, in fact, been happier alone. That's what I'm not sure other people have.
tinajonesart
Thoughts.... I'm worried about Mel Brooks. He was married to that ridiculously pretty lady, and it hurt him when she died. Anne Bancroft, that was her name. They seemed so in love. Carl Reiner sort of made it bearable for him. They did an old Black and White bit together. I saw an interview, and the two of them talked like an old married couple finishing one another's sentences...laughing. They've been friends so long, and Mr. Reiner passed away last night. So wrong. I mean, maybe Ms. Bancroft and Mr. Reiner had their, "Forever after" in Mel Brooks, and he's done nothing but give us all laughs, but damn. What about his forever after? It's just not right. I don't mind being, "Alone." I like a quiet life of solitude, but it's not for everyone, and I don't think it's for Mel Brooks. He was good at being one of a pair. I think if people are close friends or couples, then both of them should have to live until they both croak, so no one has to miss anybody. That's all.
The part that didn't go on Facebook, about me.
It's not fair to me that some people really do love one another, and it lasts so many years, and grows and they bond, then it's gone. I know there is no better way. It's the design, perhaps, and everyone has a story, but if it lasts, then I think it might be worse letting go. If you did the work, and got to that place together, it ought to last. Of course, I've lost people, and loves of my life began dropping off when I was a teen, and three more followed over the years. It was worth it every time,at least to me to love and be loved, and although I was gutted, after a little healing, I was glad that, if they had to go, at least someone gentle was with them, at least someone loved them, and it was me rather than someone who'd be mean.
I was their, "Forever after." I had to find something to hold on to, something that wouldn't die, and that's why I began meditating. It comforted me when arms could not. Every death is horrible and even if you know it's coming, it rips a person apart. If not for thinking at least they had someone, then it would all be so useless. sighs.
That pain is so great, that it rivals the pain of being alone, and eventually I came to peace with accepting either way, peace no matter which way the tears fell, and peace even when, seemingly blasphemous, I felt something like ...happiness.
There is sorrow the depths of which I cannot describe walking around with my love and serenity. Is this what it is to be human? I think it is. I had to love, and if people can't live forever, and if I were to have no forever after or something that arrived near the end which no one can count on, or not, then I would crack myself open. Boundaries, and hopelessness be damned! I'd love the whole World exactly as it was, and not even death could stop me.
Sometimes I look at the statues of nuns in bliss over the expanse of their love and maybe there's something bigger to cause it, maybe it's the nature of humans. All I know is I've lived a life that didn't need "Eternal" love, else it would have been there, and my god, it felt like I needed it, but I was wrong. I felt the desperate hunger everyone else does, but the sustenance of romantic passion was fleeting and somehow not a thing that I could hold on to, no matter how much they wanted to stay and how much I wanted them....to stay. Sighs, I know this love, and somehow it is for others. Still self pity, balm that it may be, is no sustenance.
What I needed more than anything was to love, so I did, and subsequently found myself loved. Isn't that strange, delightfully strange? I may not get to have a forever after with one, and I've found peace with the bittersweet beauty of love anyway, but this is not a path I'd wish on anyone. It is hard, harder than building walls against it, the surrender to love or let go always in limbo and open empath in bliss and agony. I re-feel the sorrow of letting that dream die whenever someone else experiences catastrophic loss. I pray they find someone else, but should they not, I know another way. I may be insane, and I recommend it, but I know love that's greater than I can at times bear. Still, even as I melt in moments into love itself, sighs. You can't really split a cookie with or hold Universal Love.
I'm o.k. to grow old this way or not. I'm open to romantic love and have been for many years. It doesn't come anymore, now that I don't hunt it down, neither fighting it, nor seeking. I laugh at myself. It never was something to capture or hide from. In truth, it just happened, and it stopped happening. I don't know why, and that's o.k.
I'm also open to being in solitude. At times partnered, I longed for such quiet too, but again I tell you, you can be happy either way. I don't skip through fields of flowers single, but I didn't do that coupled either. Either way, there's good work to be done, play to be had, and satisfaction mixed with desires. Either way, there is growth, rest and reflection. Overall, although, I pine romantic at times, I have, in fact, been happier alone. That's what I'm not sure other people have.
tinajonesart
Thursday, June 4, 2020
I Love You And There's Not A Damn Thing You Can Do About It
That's right, I love you.
I love you, and there's not a damn thing you can do about it.
I love you like you are and how ever you'll be tomorrow.
You don't have to do what i do for me to love you.
You don't have to like what I like, feel what I feel, eat what I eat, dance like I dance, believe what I believe, create how I create, sign what I sign, protest what I protest, vote for what I vote for. Can you hear me? I love you.
It's for free, and it's for fun, and it's for me.
It's mine and you can't take it away. I love you, and there's not a damn thing you can do about it.
This doesn't mean I'll put up with your shit.
In fact, I love you so much, I'll tell you when you're full of it.
This doesn't mean I'll let you hurt me.
I wouldn't enable someone I love.
This doesn't mean you have to love me.
If you tell me to fuck off, and walk away today, and I never see you again, I'll still be loving you.
I may or may not let you back in my life, but I love you.
I love you, because it's good for...me.
I love you, and that is none of your business. It's mine.
This way, I get to be in love all day long.
Even when I'm pissed, I'm loving you.
There is not a damn thing you can do about it.
I love you, because it makes my life better.
I don't love you, because Jesus or Mohammed said so.
I just love you, because I do.
This doesn't mean I'll like you every minute. Some of you are jerks.
I still love you even if I block you.
I love you if I change my mind.
It doesn't mean that I'm going to do the right thing.
It doesn't mean that I'll always be nice.
It doesn't mean that I expect anything from you.
It doesn't mean that you owe me anything, nor that I owe you.
It means that regardless of what gain or loss it might mean to me, with all that I am I wish you every joy.
With or without me, I wish you love.
I hope you laugh today, and I hope in a moment you find yourself overwhelmed at the beauty there is to be seen...in your very own heart.
I hope you fall in love with a cloud, and that you find yourself giggling at a funny pet.
I hope you share a big laugh at a dirty joke today.
I hope you see your own heart in the eyes of someone who is different from you.
I hope you know the safe, and humble place of falling to tears over how much you are loved by someone you never thought would express it.
I hope you find the courage to express it to someone else.
I hope you play, dance and catch the biggest fish or the littlest, whichever makes you smile more.
I wish you stillness to hear the crickets singing for fireflies and stars in your nights.
I wish you clean water, plenty of food, good shelter and the smiles of friends.
I wish you good health, and the simple pleasure of a good stretch.
I wish you awkward, amazing, ridiculously fantastic sex.
I hope you'll see how special and important you are, that you are the very mind, heart and hands of the gods, and I hope you realize yourself to be one with everything at least once.
I hope you tremble at your own smallness and breathe the vast love that's really you.
I hope you see you like I do...I love you.
tinajonesart
p.s. This writing was surely influenced by Chuck Chamberlain in his book, "A New Pair Of Glasses," which I first read many years ago, and repeatedly since. It's one I've lent out and given away out of love. It's written simply and to the point. The author is uplifting and encouraging, and I'd recommend it to anyone.
Wednesday, January 8, 2020
To a Younger Artist On Selling Art (directly)
Disclaimer:
I need to tell you, I stopped selling years ago due to how stressful it was for me to deal with discussing finances with people. A huge chunk of it was self worth issues. The ways I did best weren't as direct, but not facing it wasn't really good for me either. I waffle. I never made enough to survive off of art, but I did make enough to buy supplies...sometimes. I did sell some face to face, and was glad to stop. lol! I wont be going into gallery sales as I never sold that way beyond a one time/three painting sale from a general consignment shop, so it helps to have an open mind.
I made enough to pay for my daughter's family's groceries many years back, when W's factory closings meant my son in law lost his job. They did all they could, and my daughter did the customer interaction online and handled the sales. The price and product was set up front, so no pressure to do something out of the Blue for me.
What Worked
I sold what I made. Occassionally, I did a request, but it was within a line of what I was doing easily. I wasn't selling what I loved most. Rather, I looked at what was selling already in the area of what I knew I could do and quickly. At that time, it was Yorkshire Terriers on anything including purses. I did a lot of trinket boxes and I even painted some shoes.
It's Ebay, so some were new and some were used. I went to outlets, but I also went to Salvation Army, Goodwill, found the best which meant sometimes $70 purses were mine for $2. I brought them home, cleaned them, made them look and smell like new, then I did surface prep, a base of White, then I painted rather cartoonish dogs. I did five a day minimum. I was quick, and although initially, I thought the dogs were really adorable, even wanted one, I came to become so sick of looking at them, after about 3 months of morning to night work. They were selling. I got $75 once every few days, otherwise, they were going for $25, and I did some head only paintings on things like wallets. that went for sometimes as little as $5-$10.00.
The reason for the Yorkies was in part that I aimed at a certain demographic...so little was about actually creating a painting. I thought to myself, "Who has extra money enough and loves a bargain enough to be looking on Ebay for art?" The answer was and likely is, women 40-70 who are financially comfortable and in love with their dogs! Ping their heart with a cartoon that looks like, "Fluffy" and make it portable art they can brag to their friends about, resulting in free advertisement for me! I was giving them something beautiful and some joy and a talking point about their pet. They returned the favor with cash for my grandkid's grocery bill.
I had a boutique in South America buying 5 at a time. Sales were going to China, France, England any country out there and all over the States. It was exhilarating....and exhausting, but it fed my kids. Today, if I were going to do that, I'd set up and Etsy shop, and get big online. Think it terms of networking but like an octopus. lol! Make ways to get in touch with your main body of work and sales on every public venue you're on/in both online and in person. Make sure that if they want what you do, you are the one to come to and make it easy for them.
That means joining all the sites, and talking about your work a lot, posting pics of it. Interacting with people who are frankly buying your personality as much as the item. No matter how good your work, they want to see your face too, and that was hard for me, but I'm obviously past it now. People love to be entertained, and they love videos. If you do a simple slide show of your work, put it on youtube, and monetize it, so you might get a few dollars from that video too, then share that video on Facebook, your blog, Twitter, and anywhere else you are online.
If you are really good at creating a certain thing, consider a How-to video or set of CDs, and only post highlights to advertise it online then sell the CD's. Consider in-person classes on what you know or even Pay ahead Face-to-Face video instruction. Be open to ways for your art to reach people. I sold CD sets on portraiture, and I stopped production. As I learned more about making videos, I saw clearly that my video quality wasn't that great, and despite requests for more, I refused to sell them as they weren't up to my new standards and ability due to simply knowing more about lighting. Have boundaries and a firm self respect and you can respect the customers too. Give them your best.
The focus is to create what you know, and what flows, not what you, "Can" do that is still a lot of work. I can lift a 50 lb bag of dog food, but if I do that all day, I'll break me. I had a similar run decades ago with mallards, and I was eyeing the Duck Stamp, but never went there. Others were better than I was at it, but I did sell. That time it was mallards and a string of things that sold in a rural farming community. What art do you see when you go to their houses, more directly when you drive by? Nods, I'm talking mallards for days on mailboxes, saws....I didn't even buy these supports, except for the first few. I painted a few craft ones, sanded and primed a few antique ones, and a local beautician friend suggested I hang a few in her shop to decorate...off they went, and people began bringing me their own saws, flat and circular. They loved contributing to be part of the process of their finished product. I was painting often, "Grandpa's old saw." I did one I think it was a 6 ft'er double handles, two man saw of an eagle, one of bears, many, many deer, but mostly it was mallards. In that case, buyers who were used to paying the beautician for a service, spoke to her first about, "The artist" so they were already in the mindset that this is something you pay for. Because these saw like the yorkies were seen in public, my name was out there, and the saws were a local status symbol and fashion statement....I'm the female form of, "The Dude." I abide. lol! Suddenly, I'm stylish.
...About the videos, I created several art videos that are still on youtube, and they are grouped together, but those tend to attract some rather nasty artists's comments rather than interested people. You're not there to impress them. They could be busy creating their own art, if they were serious instead of harassing others. Block them it's only an extension to your calling card and the truth is some of them are lonely 11 year olds enjoying a shot at a little troll power. Yawn. You have more that is valuable, meaning I think people would sit through ad (which make you revenue) for it. Your life experience talk. It obviously has helped people, even if you don't put ads on it, and only on a few other videos about your art, people will love it, share it, and they come to your videos and see what else you've got going on. You can link to earning videos from an altruistic one too. Every click earns you pennies, and they can add up. I know this because it happened by accident to me. I had some art videos, wasn't selling much, but my heart went out to people who didn't understand that Autistic people grow and learn, so I just told them about me. ...Read. I wasn't trying to sell anything. Do whatever you do, because it's fun and it feels good.
I can't possibly offer and extensive list of what worked in sales for me, in part, because I hardly consider myself, "That" successful, but I did have successes at it, and I learned some of the internet rhythms of getting my work and myself out there. At the moment, I have other goals and responsibilities that require 110% of me, and my main focus is peace of mind.
I hope you find something of inspiration here, and do keep in mind, others will know far more. Welcome their input, take what you can use and leave the rest. Be understanding and patient when you can with the next artist who may one day need your ideas, and realize there are eyes looking up to you long before you sell your first painting. Whatever you choose to do, be it sell, not sell, or occasionally sell, be true to you.
with love,
tinajonesart
I need to tell you, I stopped selling years ago due to how stressful it was for me to deal with discussing finances with people. A huge chunk of it was self worth issues. The ways I did best weren't as direct, but not facing it wasn't really good for me either. I waffle. I never made enough to survive off of art, but I did make enough to buy supplies...sometimes. I did sell some face to face, and was glad to stop. lol! I wont be going into gallery sales as I never sold that way beyond a one time/three painting sale from a general consignment shop, so it helps to have an open mind.
I made enough to pay for my daughter's family's groceries many years back, when W's factory closings meant my son in law lost his job. They did all they could, and my daughter did the customer interaction online and handled the sales. The price and product was set up front, so no pressure to do something out of the Blue for me.
What Worked
I sold what I made. Occassionally, I did a request, but it was within a line of what I was doing easily. I wasn't selling what I loved most. Rather, I looked at what was selling already in the area of what I knew I could do and quickly. At that time, it was Yorkshire Terriers on anything including purses. I did a lot of trinket boxes and I even painted some shoes.
It's Ebay, so some were new and some were used. I went to outlets, but I also went to Salvation Army, Goodwill, found the best which meant sometimes $70 purses were mine for $2. I brought them home, cleaned them, made them look and smell like new, then I did surface prep, a base of White, then I painted rather cartoonish dogs. I did five a day minimum. I was quick, and although initially, I thought the dogs were really adorable, even wanted one, I came to become so sick of looking at them, after about 3 months of morning to night work. They were selling. I got $75 once every few days, otherwise, they were going for $25, and I did some head only paintings on things like wallets. that went for sometimes as little as $5-$10.00.
The reason for the Yorkies was in part that I aimed at a certain demographic...so little was about actually creating a painting. I thought to myself, "Who has extra money enough and loves a bargain enough to be looking on Ebay for art?" The answer was and likely is, women 40-70 who are financially comfortable and in love with their dogs! Ping their heart with a cartoon that looks like, "Fluffy" and make it portable art they can brag to their friends about, resulting in free advertisement for me! I was giving them something beautiful and some joy and a talking point about their pet. They returned the favor with cash for my grandkid's grocery bill.
I had a boutique in South America buying 5 at a time. Sales were going to China, France, England any country out there and all over the States. It was exhilarating....and exhausting, but it fed my kids. Today, if I were going to do that, I'd set up and Etsy shop, and get big online. Think it terms of networking but like an octopus. lol! Make ways to get in touch with your main body of work and sales on every public venue you're on/in both online and in person. Make sure that if they want what you do, you are the one to come to and make it easy for them.
That means joining all the sites, and talking about your work a lot, posting pics of it. Interacting with people who are frankly buying your personality as much as the item. No matter how good your work, they want to see your face too, and that was hard for me, but I'm obviously past it now. People love to be entertained, and they love videos. If you do a simple slide show of your work, put it on youtube, and monetize it, so you might get a few dollars from that video too, then share that video on Facebook, your blog, Twitter, and anywhere else you are online.
If you are really good at creating a certain thing, consider a How-to video or set of CDs, and only post highlights to advertise it online then sell the CD's. Consider in-person classes on what you know or even Pay ahead Face-to-Face video instruction. Be open to ways for your art to reach people. I sold CD sets on portraiture, and I stopped production. As I learned more about making videos, I saw clearly that my video quality wasn't that great, and despite requests for more, I refused to sell them as they weren't up to my new standards and ability due to simply knowing more about lighting. Have boundaries and a firm self respect and you can respect the customers too. Give them your best.
The focus is to create what you know, and what flows, not what you, "Can" do that is still a lot of work. I can lift a 50 lb bag of dog food, but if I do that all day, I'll break me. I had a similar run decades ago with mallards, and I was eyeing the Duck Stamp, but never went there. Others were better than I was at it, but I did sell. That time it was mallards and a string of things that sold in a rural farming community. What art do you see when you go to their houses, more directly when you drive by? Nods, I'm talking mallards for days on mailboxes, saws....I didn't even buy these supports, except for the first few. I painted a few craft ones, sanded and primed a few antique ones, and a local beautician friend suggested I hang a few in her shop to decorate...off they went, and people began bringing me their own saws, flat and circular. They loved contributing to be part of the process of their finished product. I was painting often, "Grandpa's old saw." I did one I think it was a 6 ft'er double handles, two man saw of an eagle, one of bears, many, many deer, but mostly it was mallards. In that case, buyers who were used to paying the beautician for a service, spoke to her first about, "The artist" so they were already in the mindset that this is something you pay for. Because these saw like the yorkies were seen in public, my name was out there, and the saws were a local status symbol and fashion statement....I'm the female form of, "The Dude." I abide. lol! Suddenly, I'm stylish.
...About the videos, I created several art videos that are still on youtube, and they are grouped together, but those tend to attract some rather nasty artists's comments rather than interested people. You're not there to impress them. They could be busy creating their own art, if they were serious instead of harassing others. Block them it's only an extension to your calling card and the truth is some of them are lonely 11 year olds enjoying a shot at a little troll power. Yawn. You have more that is valuable, meaning I think people would sit through ad (which make you revenue) for it. Your life experience talk. It obviously has helped people, even if you don't put ads on it, and only on a few other videos about your art, people will love it, share it, and they come to your videos and see what else you've got going on. You can link to earning videos from an altruistic one too. Every click earns you pennies, and they can add up. I know this because it happened by accident to me. I had some art videos, wasn't selling much, but my heart went out to people who didn't understand that Autistic people grow and learn, so I just told them about me. ...Read. I wasn't trying to sell anything. Do whatever you do, because it's fun and it feels good.
I can't possibly offer and extensive list of what worked in sales for me, in part, because I hardly consider myself, "That" successful, but I did have successes at it, and I learned some of the internet rhythms of getting my work and myself out there. At the moment, I have other goals and responsibilities that require 110% of me, and my main focus is peace of mind.
I hope you find something of inspiration here, and do keep in mind, others will know far more. Welcome their input, take what you can use and leave the rest. Be understanding and patient when you can with the next artist who may one day need your ideas, and realize there are eyes looking up to you long before you sell your first painting. Whatever you choose to do, be it sell, not sell, or occasionally sell, be true to you.
with love,
tinajonesart
Monday, August 26, 2019
Relationships; Growing Through Solitude
Despite being single, I've experienced ongoing relationship growth including the awareness that with or without a significant other, I've had the same problems. I've gone through the good and the bad all by myself.
the difference is I know that I get total credit and blame. I have responsibility and ownership for how I feel, and I've felt the same things.
I've felt 100% loved and accepted, even cherished.... alone. I've felt undesirable, like I was in the way, abandoned, unloved...all of the feelings that lead to breakups, except I was alone. I've felt sexy, powerful, intelligent, helpless, confident, and terrified both in and out of relationships. This lesson for me has come in layers.
A few unfortunately obsessed strangers triggered this latest realization. Apparently, they first saw me on my Youtube channel, and developed a fixation of sorts. They've written a lot, and a few have, but some are more tenacious. I try to take the Lady Gaga approach, in that I'm not angry about it. It's not about, "Me," but more of a, "Celebrity" thing, and if I could, I'd send them sandwiches. They've no idea if I've even seen their notes or not, and I haven't read them all. In truth, there isn't enough time in the day even if I wanted to do so. We've never had any exchange whatsoever. Still, they have had the whole range of relationship experiences through these emails. They've been, "In love," in hate, they've judged, blamed, bargained, tried to be understanding to, "Make it work," and they've seemed to get hold of themselves, and let go for periods of time, then fall right back into the obsession...with a person they don't even know other than a talking head on some videos.
For me, those videos are something I've done, something of acting, and something of myself for those moments in time but not, "Me" on the whole. At the very least, time has passed, and people change and grow. The writer has been stuck there like falling for a photograph in a magazine. This is why I don't take it personally.
I once imagined Peter Tork and I would fall in love and live happily ever after, and he too had no idea. The difference is, I didn't think he needed to know, and I didn't take it that seriously that I thought to stalk him. Still, I've written posts on celebrities pages, but not one after another or for years on end. The point being, the writer went through this range of experience without my input.
Now seeing that I've had those similar feelings within relationships, and outside of them. I have to wonder how much of my relationships was real. Just because I can touch you, that doesn't mean that I know you. When I blamed myself or him, maybe it was just life, and we were sort of one another's fans for a time. Now, within the relationships, I dropped the word, "Blame," long ago, and was just working on things that hurt as they came along, but eventually, I did need his help, and he couldn't be bothered. I didn't expect to never have problems, but if I was the only one working on them, or trying to hold it together, it didn't and wouldn't work. You cannot have a working relationship on your own.
I gave out from exhaustion one day, trying to hold something together that was draining me at best, when it worked at all, by then. He just wasn't willing, until we broke up, but I'd heard that song for so long, and I couldn't take one more injury to my heart at the time. I was just too broken by then. It seemed we both stood a better chance at survival and maybe even happiness alone, and I think it worked out o.k.
Last night, I had the same revelation when I watched the movie, "Her." She, the female lead, wasn't real either, in the conventional sense, any more than a recorded memory of someone on a youtube screen. It was all in his mind as he was only interacting with an Operating System. I thought to myself, "Isn't that what we're all doing, here on Facebook, Instagram or elsewhere online where we are having the, "Real" experiences with all of the faults, flaws, joys, tears, and laughter of friendships, while, I cannot put my arms around you?" I really thought about how much you all add to my life while I am, "Alone."
Of course you're not Operating Systems or Artificial Intelligence, even one that grows and learns and adapts according to the people you interact with, but humans do that too. I am malleable to you, and you are to me. We affect each other, while remaining ourselves in the healthiest of circumstances. In the movie, the male lead character fell in love, and who, wanting, has not wished we were hundreds or thousands of miles from where we are? Who has not experienced the very real heartbreak of rejection when our love interest found someone, "With a body," nearby...someone to hold? Who hasn't looked at other places and cultures and thought they'd fit, perhaps better there? Who hasn't moped over goodbyes, or felt fear when the beloved didn't sign in online, the same as if a spouse didn't make it home?
Is it all the same; one colossal gorgeous mind-fuck? The activities are different, but the feelings are the same. It doesn't seem to matter which way you choose. This all comes down to the most profound question my spiritual mentor asked me long ago.
What do you want?
Perhaps we are that basic or amazing that the answers are all in our instincts. Our desires or chemistry, if you will, might be the deciding factor in where and how we experience our particular glorious mess of a life.
I have no answers.
tinajonesart
A few unfortunately obsessed strangers triggered this latest realization. Apparently, they first saw me on my Youtube channel, and developed a fixation of sorts. They've written a lot, and a few have, but some are more tenacious. I try to take the Lady Gaga approach, in that I'm not angry about it. It's not about, "Me," but more of a, "Celebrity" thing, and if I could, I'd send them sandwiches. They've no idea if I've even seen their notes or not, and I haven't read them all. In truth, there isn't enough time in the day even if I wanted to do so. We've never had any exchange whatsoever. Still, they have had the whole range of relationship experiences through these emails. They've been, "In love," in hate, they've judged, blamed, bargained, tried to be understanding to, "Make it work," and they've seemed to get hold of themselves, and let go for periods of time, then fall right back into the obsession...with a person they don't even know other than a talking head on some videos.
For me, those videos are something I've done, something of acting, and something of myself for those moments in time but not, "Me" on the whole. At the very least, time has passed, and people change and grow. The writer has been stuck there like falling for a photograph in a magazine. This is why I don't take it personally.
I once imagined Peter Tork and I would fall in love and live happily ever after, and he too had no idea. The difference is, I didn't think he needed to know, and I didn't take it that seriously that I thought to stalk him. Still, I've written posts on celebrities pages, but not one after another or for years on end. The point being, the writer went through this range of experience without my input.
Now seeing that I've had those similar feelings within relationships, and outside of them. I have to wonder how much of my relationships was real. Just because I can touch you, that doesn't mean that I know you. When I blamed myself or him, maybe it was just life, and we were sort of one another's fans for a time. Now, within the relationships, I dropped the word, "Blame," long ago, and was just working on things that hurt as they came along, but eventually, I did need his help, and he couldn't be bothered. I didn't expect to never have problems, but if I was the only one working on them, or trying to hold it together, it didn't and wouldn't work. You cannot have a working relationship on your own.
I gave out from exhaustion one day, trying to hold something together that was draining me at best, when it worked at all, by then. He just wasn't willing, until we broke up, but I'd heard that song for so long, and I couldn't take one more injury to my heart at the time. I was just too broken by then. It seemed we both stood a better chance at survival and maybe even happiness alone, and I think it worked out o.k.
Last night, I had the same revelation when I watched the movie, "Her." She, the female lead, wasn't real either, in the conventional sense, any more than a recorded memory of someone on a youtube screen. It was all in his mind as he was only interacting with an Operating System. I thought to myself, "Isn't that what we're all doing, here on Facebook, Instagram or elsewhere online where we are having the, "Real" experiences with all of the faults, flaws, joys, tears, and laughter of friendships, while, I cannot put my arms around you?" I really thought about how much you all add to my life while I am, "Alone."
Of course you're not Operating Systems or Artificial Intelligence, even one that grows and learns and adapts according to the people you interact with, but humans do that too. I am malleable to you, and you are to me. We affect each other, while remaining ourselves in the healthiest of circumstances. In the movie, the male lead character fell in love, and who, wanting, has not wished we were hundreds or thousands of miles from where we are? Who has not experienced the very real heartbreak of rejection when our love interest found someone, "With a body," nearby...someone to hold? Who hasn't looked at other places and cultures and thought they'd fit, perhaps better there? Who hasn't moped over goodbyes, or felt fear when the beloved didn't sign in online, the same as if a spouse didn't make it home?
Is it all the same; one colossal gorgeous mind-fuck? The activities are different, but the feelings are the same. It doesn't seem to matter which way you choose. This all comes down to the most profound question my spiritual mentor asked me long ago.
What do you want?
Perhaps we are that basic or amazing that the answers are all in our instincts. Our desires or chemistry, if you will, might be the deciding factor in where and how we experience our particular glorious mess of a life.
I have no answers.
tinajonesart
Thursday, September 27, 2018
Unapologetically Ourselves
Years ago, I attended an open drawing studio.
I brought my sketch pad, some pencils and a kneaded eraser. I am oddly, approachable, or moreso than I'm usually comfortable with. I was more concerned this time about the comfort of the middleaged woman sitting in a white robe waiting for time to start drawing. I'm not good at chit-chat, but I seem to be able to leave my insecurity aside when I believe someone needs me to be more. I asked how long she'd modelled, and she happily engaged answering that and where she'd worked and soon it was announced drawing would begin with some short sketches.
The room was about 12x12 foot holding maybe ten people around a 4x6 foot platform, so there isn't much room to move to get a better perspective. I learned to work with whatever I had, and drew the backs of chairs or the bottoms of feet more than once.
The model did a very unexpected thing. Upon hearing we'd start, she turned toward me smiled, dropped her robe and lifted her joyous face and arms into the air. I scored a few mediocre sketches that night, but far beyond nudity, I won the right to shine, because she believed it was o.k. for her to do the same.
Don't be less than you. You cannot make yourself small enough that no one will ever envy you or try to cut you down to make themselves feel better in the absence of taking any action to believe in themselves. That job is theirs, and you can't save them their work. Yours job is to live.
Don't be less of you.
Don't be less beautiful, intelligent, sexy or hard-earned strong.
Don't be less funny, less caring or less loving.
Don't be less playful, helpful, silly or ingenuitive.
Don't be less talkative or less contemplative or less of a listener.
Don't hold back when you dance, heal others, soap-box or make love.
Don't downplay you in order to fit in or please anyone.
Don't restrict your paintings, your unborn novels, your discoveries, and the time you spend gazing at the surface of water or blowing bubbles.
Don't downplay the work you've done, or how much blood you've spilled for something that looks like mere talent now.
Don't be less of you, neither cover nor dim your shine. Someone needs your light, and it may be that someone is ...you.
It's o.k. to try being true to yourself, and fall flat on your face.
It's o.k. to be scared.
It's o.k. to feel like you're not enough and to take up space on the planet anyway.
It's o.k. to glow, then hide, and it's o.k. burst with light.
Live your fullness, your ideas, your dreams. Be as glorious as you are, because there's also someone watching who may be even more afraid. Someone watches who may not know their own worth. Step into your sacred opportunity to be as amazing as you are for you, but also do it because someone needs to see you being happy in order to believe it's o.k. for them to be happy too.
tinajonesart
I brought my sketch pad, some pencils and a kneaded eraser. I am oddly, approachable, or moreso than I'm usually comfortable with. I was more concerned this time about the comfort of the middleaged woman sitting in a white robe waiting for time to start drawing. I'm not good at chit-chat, but I seem to be able to leave my insecurity aside when I believe someone needs me to be more. I asked how long she'd modelled, and she happily engaged answering that and where she'd worked and soon it was announced drawing would begin with some short sketches.
The room was about 12x12 foot holding maybe ten people around a 4x6 foot platform, so there isn't much room to move to get a better perspective. I learned to work with whatever I had, and drew the backs of chairs or the bottoms of feet more than once.
The model did a very unexpected thing. Upon hearing we'd start, she turned toward me smiled, dropped her robe and lifted her joyous face and arms into the air. I scored a few mediocre sketches that night, but far beyond nudity, I won the right to shine, because she believed it was o.k. for her to do the same.
Don't be less than you. You cannot make yourself small enough that no one will ever envy you or try to cut you down to make themselves feel better in the absence of taking any action to believe in themselves. That job is theirs, and you can't save them their work. Yours job is to live.
Don't be less of you.
Don't be less beautiful, intelligent, sexy or hard-earned strong.
Don't be less funny, less caring or less loving.
Don't be less playful, helpful, silly or ingenuitive.
Don't be less talkative or less contemplative or less of a listener.
Don't hold back when you dance, heal others, soap-box or make love.
Don't downplay you in order to fit in or please anyone.
Don't restrict your paintings, your unborn novels, your discoveries, and the time you spend gazing at the surface of water or blowing bubbles.
Don't downplay the work you've done, or how much blood you've spilled for something that looks like mere talent now.
Don't be less of you, neither cover nor dim your shine. Someone needs your light, and it may be that someone is ...you.
It's o.k. to try being true to yourself, and fall flat on your face.
It's o.k. to be scared.
It's o.k. to feel like you're not enough and to take up space on the planet anyway.
It's o.k. to glow, then hide, and it's o.k. burst with light.
Live your fullness, your ideas, your dreams. Be as glorious as you are, because there's also someone watching who may be even more afraid. Someone watches who may not know their own worth. Step into your sacred opportunity to be as amazing as you are for you, but also do it because someone needs to see you being happy in order to believe it's o.k. for them to be happy too.
tinajonesart
Thursday, January 18, 2018
The Introverted Woman
Thoughts on Introversion
One reason I love Winter is this morning when I went outside, the neighbor's dog was out for a few minutes, and the neighbor was *not. That means peace. When I heard the dog, I sighed as I was sure my decadent solitude would be interrupted, but there was no need. It was a completely beautiful morning with a bonus dog. Perfect.
Far from shyness, introversion, as I experience it, is being at my best, most productive, happiest when I have a good amount of solitude. It's a treasure of a person who can feel to me like they belong in that sacred space with me and even add to it. Even people I like very much can be taxing to me. Make it three or four people, and I'm exhausted and spent for days while I spend time alone to regain my equilibrium.
Later this afternoon, I read a bit from a very smart, gallant and sexy man who spoke of freeing a woman from the shackles of introversion, and I had to smile. Time will take care of that idea, or who knows? He may be absolutely right, but in case anyone might benefit from my fallible thoughts, here they are.
Don't miss the infinite realms of introversion in an attempt to, "Free" her from it. Enter. It. If not, sure, she may let it go and meet you where you are, and you will never know her. Hear this: Someone will.
Introversion is the secret garden where ideas, lust, love and all things juicy grow, There, she creates, in the depths of heart, mind and in her own body. There, if you're lucky or brave, you'll find the dreams just outside your consciousness - hers for sure, but yours as well. You may find something of yourself. Let her wake you -take you there.
She's not waiting to be freed from this. In selflessness, she may abandon it to please you for a while, and that's tragic, because she's not being herself. Therefore encourage her to be selfish.
There is wisdom in the woman of introverted artistry who is true to her being. She's building castles, heavens, and wonders and worlds. If you are invited, appreciate the work she's done, and she just may free you from the shackles of extroversion, and the ceaseless chit chat on the shallow end of the lonely networking pool, where you know as well as she does that your own hope is dying a little every day. She feels it viscerally, and she is the key. The Sea does not envy a cubicle. Enter on white horses, if you like, but never fool yourself on who's freeing whom.
tinajonesart
One reason I love Winter is this morning when I went outside, the neighbor's dog was out for a few minutes, and the neighbor was *not. That means peace. When I heard the dog, I sighed as I was sure my decadent solitude would be interrupted, but there was no need. It was a completely beautiful morning with a bonus dog. Perfect.
Far from shyness, introversion, as I experience it, is being at my best, most productive, happiest when I have a good amount of solitude. It's a treasure of a person who can feel to me like they belong in that sacred space with me and even add to it. Even people I like very much can be taxing to me. Make it three or four people, and I'm exhausted and spent for days while I spend time alone to regain my equilibrium.
Later this afternoon, I read a bit from a very smart, gallant and sexy man who spoke of freeing a woman from the shackles of introversion, and I had to smile. Time will take care of that idea, or who knows? He may be absolutely right, but in case anyone might benefit from my fallible thoughts, here they are.
Don't miss the infinite realms of introversion in an attempt to, "Free" her from it. Enter. It. If not, sure, she may let it go and meet you where you are, and you will never know her. Hear this: Someone will.
Introversion is the secret garden where ideas, lust, love and all things juicy grow, There, she creates, in the depths of heart, mind and in her own body. There, if you're lucky or brave, you'll find the dreams just outside your consciousness - hers for sure, but yours as well. You may find something of yourself. Let her wake you -take you there.
She's not waiting to be freed from this. In selflessness, she may abandon it to please you for a while, and that's tragic, because she's not being herself. Therefore encourage her to be selfish.
There is wisdom in the woman of introverted artistry who is true to her being. She's building castles, heavens, and wonders and worlds. If you are invited, appreciate the work she's done, and she just may free you from the shackles of extroversion, and the ceaseless chit chat on the shallow end of the lonely networking pool, where you know as well as she does that your own hope is dying a little every day. She feels it viscerally, and she is the key. The Sea does not envy a cubicle. Enter on white horses, if you like, but never fool yourself on who's freeing whom.
tinajonesart
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