June 17, 2015: I've been holding on to some good news, because kinda like being a few weeks pregnant, I feel like it's too early and anything could happen. Maybe it's all just a big mistake. I'm not even telling you now! I am writing this in draft form and will post it in a day or two when I'm feeling more positive that this is really happening. Here's a clue:
See? I'm pregnant with art!
Back in May, I noticed this call for a juried art show for pieces featuring "trains, planes, automobiles, and anything with wheels." I don't really paint vehicles, with one exception: bicycles. And mostly, bicycles holding up my son. I dug out my three paintings with bikes in them, rephotographed them, and sent them in with my application via email. Only one of these paintings has been included in the gallery of this website - the other two are watercolors I painted a few years ago and keep for my own decorative purposes, since the "model" is my son.
This entry via email thing is awesome. They don't know I'm a hot mess in person, and that I have to fight my toddler's instinct to took at my shoes while speaking. And it worked! I'm in!
Now I just have to write an "artist's bio" and deliver the paintings downtown to Gallery 360 at The Slocum House.
Artist's bios are normally written by the artist in third person (awkward). They should include the artist's background, schooling, influences, gallery exhibits, and philosophy. Since I have little art schooling, no legit gallery time, and few meaty art thoughts, my bio is a little light.
It turns out that the hardest part has been dragging my hermit-y ass down there with the paintings and bio. I could have fit it into my schedule today, but I "ran out of time." Meaning, I "ran out of nerve." What if they take one look at my paintings and decide they've made a huge mistake? What if they laugh at the prices I wrote down? What if the person at the gallery does not know what I'm talking about when I tell her I am delivering art for the Art on Wheels exhibition and sends me away? What if the gallery attendant is busy and I have to wait on a stool in a corner like a frightened rabbit and then the gallery closes? These are all valid fears, right?
I will complete this report when I return from my VERY SIMPLE ERRAND tomorrow.
June 18, 2015
Okay, it's done. It was just as awkward as I expected, but since I expected it, I wasn't thrown. As expected, the nice older fellow on duty did not know how to accept my art, but he had a checklist to follow, so we got through. it. He also was thrown by the gallery-wrapped oil painting, as it was frameless, and he was apparently new to the concept. At first, he said he didn't know if they could accept artwork that was "unprotected," but I explained that it was an oil painting that you did not show behind glass, and he did a little mental reckoning, and okayed it. Phew. Awkward, since he was a member of the gallery co-op. Maybe he does woodworking or something.
Oh, and if you're interested, here's my artist's bio:
Oil on canvas
Watercolor on paper
Acrylics on tote bags
Janice Tracy lives and paints in Vancouver, Washington. She started painting in the 1990s while living in Bend, Oregon. Her first efforts were a “do-it-yourself” way to decorate her home, but she soon found that she was producing more art than she had wall space.
In addition to various classes and seminars, one of her main influences was her friend and mentor, Avalon Parsons, whose oil paintings have been shown in galleries throughout Oregon. Like Ms. Parsons, Janice often uses a palette knife as her only application tool when painting landscapes in oil, but she picks up her brushes to create works that include human and animal figures.
Janice’s approach to her art is to capture a place, a moment, or a memory in the hope that the viewer can experience it with her.
Until recently, her work was on display at the Rinnovo Spa and Salon in Vancouver.
She also produces a line of canvas tote bags painted with acrylics under the name “Used Art.” The subjects for her canvas bag pieces are usually more whimsical, such as otters, bears, cows, and the occasional nutria.
Although she has been painting for over 20 years, she has never been able to give herself a proper manicure.
Now I guess I wait until the opening, which will be during Downtown Vancouver's version of the monthly artwalk called First Friday, which is July 3, when I am supposed to be somewhere else. I guess I should work that out sooner rather than later. See you on July 3, I guess?