Sixty-something woman shares ruminations as she plys the latter third of her life with the caveat that age entitles her to be absolutely outrageous whenever possible.
Saturday, June 30, 2012
White horses and I...
After a long ponder, and some advice from a friend, I decided to give my first white horse oeuvre to the Art for Life Auction this year. Now I love my paintings. I suppose I know that the whole object is to sell them so some lovely person out there in the big bad world will have something delightful to gaze at every day. But I will really miss my first white horse, if it sells, that is. It is possible that I will be able to attend the event, sip mineral water and gnosh on chichi munchies, check out all the OTHER art, and the other artists, hobnob with the rich folks who love art and attend with the hopes of getting some, cheap, and still come home with my beloved painting. This is not it, by the way, this is one that I added to the opus to replace the one I am donating. And it is unlikely I will bring anything home, mine or otherwise. I have, after all, sold my piece now for four years running, and I am somewhat proud of that, as that does not happen to all the artists who donate. Somewhere out there, there are four folks who have an original painting by MOI on their wall. That is kind of sweet, yes. Whatever, it is not til September, and I have time to knock out a few more white horses.