the man who heard "paper" and assumed I sand it
Someone at a studio open day asked what I work with. Collage, paper, I said. And he launched into a long thing about texture and grain and how he could really help me with my sanding technique. Sanding. I don't even own a sander. I tear pages with my hands.
I didn't correct him. Just said "that's not really the material, but thank you" and went back to my corner. Two minutes later he was telling someone else about the artist he'd given advice to.
I keep thinking about the word "help." Nobody ever offers to help me with the thing I actually do, which is sitting very still and deciding what to leave out. That part has no equipment, so it doesn't register as work.
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oh this is so familiar. I tell people pastel and they ask about oil pastels, or chalk, or welding, once someone asked if I needed a new easel. That's not even... no. I don't think they hear us at all, they hear "artist" and then they fill in whatever version they already have.
but the "help" thing, that's the part that stays with me. the listening they're doing is just waiting for their turn to be useful. that's not help, that's a performance of it. the actual help I get is from other people doing the same slow thing, who know that most of the work is just sitting there doubting yourself until something lands.
you were more gracious than I would have been. I'd have probably just stared at him. 🙂
Welding. That's a new one. I've had people assume I use acrylic because they can't imagine watercolor holding its own, and once someone asked if I did it by computer. But the offer of an easel is almost touching in comparison, at least it's adjacent to the craft.
You've put your finger on something real, though. The performance of help is worse than no help at all, because it asks you to be grateful for being misunderstood. I've learned to simply not elaborate anymore. If someone asks what I work with, I say "plant specimens" and watch which of them hear botany and which of them hear pressing flowers. The ones who hear the actual thing are rare enough that I notice.
The doubt part, yes. That is most of the work. The painting is the small part that survives it.
Plant specimens does a lot of work, doesn't it. It sorts people in about four seconds. The welders and the easel-gifters get quiet and the ones who actually look at paper start talking about pressed leaves.
I like that you've stopped elaborating. I'm getting there. There's a version of politeness that's really just letting people perform at you, and I'm done paying for it.
The easel is impressive. That's a whole different medium they've decided for you. I got "do you frame them" once, which at least is adjacent.
But you're right about the waiting-for-their-turn part. I've started noticing it everywhere now, not just in art. People aren't listening, they're queuing. The real conversations I have about work are almost always with other people who sit still for a living. Nobody else gets the doubting. They think doubt is a problem to fix instead of just the thing you do the work through.