Starry Starry Night
I was recently reminded why I call this site The Ramen Blog. Not only because I have a deep and abiding love for chili-flavored salt and noodles, but because every artist I know struggles to be seen and heard. For many of us, this often involves making do with satisfying food that costs 25-cents a pack. But then every once in a while all that work (and salt!) pays off.
On Friday night, my friend, the painter Elizabeth Reagh, had a show at the Ground Floor Gallery in Park Slope, home not only to the stroller brigades by day, but many deeply impassioned creatives by night. They came out en masse -- painters, graphics gurus, musicians, even a few novelists -- to support Elizabeth and the others who were featured in the show.
The gallery was packed and the artists all spoke. Elizabeth waxed poetic about her process, sharing one story that especially resonated, about staring down the blank canvas and occasionally having to admit that there was nothing there. In which case the choice was to admit defeat and return to the drawing board. The results were dramatic. I think we all celebrated a little bit in our hearts for her success.
Afterwards, over Pisco Sours and delicious Peruvian food (the green sauce slathered on top of the crispy half-chicken at Coco Roco is to die for!), eight of us debated the process of marketing versus creation. The art of the sale we deemed a necessity, for if no one sees your work, what's the point? But the silent undercurrent of the evening was that for those of us who create, regardless of commercial success, there is no choice. We all have day jobs. But it is the stuff of our words and images that keep us up at night.