Selling art on the lawn

A small story about a connection

Hello dear friend,

I hope you are enjoying these late summer moments. The crickets are still here and I find myself in the in-between of wanting to savor the last of the hot days and also longing for the much awaited exhalation that is the beginning of fall. Autumn always feels so profoundly relieving. This time is one of conflicting interests - to want to hold on to the summer that is slipping between our fingers like sand, and also to know and crave what’s next. My kiddo is back to school today and has mixed feelings too.

I enjoy writing during this time. I have been writing a long post about my reflections about leaving instagram and how it’s been feeling for the last 6 months. It’s a bit dense, and I might not be ready to send it for another 6 months. Needless to say, I’m in the mood for something much lighter today, so I’d love to tell you this somewhat related story about something that really brought me joy.

◯

There’s a house on the corner in the neighborhood we live in that I always admire when I walk by. It’s a house that is primarily house-shaped.

You know, like this: ⌂

So, it’s mostly just that shape, but 3-D, and it’s such a beautiful simplicity. One of a kind in this neighborhood. It is built with brick only and has those massive steel grid windows. I am truly unsure if there is electricity in the house, because when I unabashedly gaze through the big windows I never see any lights on or electric anything. It appears to be nearly empty. It looks quiet. It sounds soft. My senses and I admire this house so.

Henry’s piano teacher lives across the neighborhood and one day we walked by this house on the way back home, and I noticed from afar there was a couple sitting on the lawn with some objects sitting out on a table and on the grass. I got closer and realized the objects were framed pieces of original art, and the couple was much older than me.

The art was created by the woman on the grass. I started asking her about her art, and she was so friendly and told me about how making it brings her joy. I could see and feel that she really meant it, that art-making was a personal catalyst for simple happiness and beauty that enriches her time in her lovely quiet house. She told me she wanted to share her art with others and thought to put it out on the lawn, and she told me about how she loves connecting with people who come to look at it, and how she has sold many pieces this way.

In a world where many artists are stressing in many ways about getting their art seen by as many people as possible online, disappointed with the platforms’ less-than-human way of “connecting” us, I just met a new friend who is content and happy selling and showing her art on right her own lawn to whoever happens to walk by. I could barely contain my heart and thought it was going to propel itself right out of my body. Never have I felt such a resonance and truth in such a short moment. In this interaction, I felt my own relationship to art-making reflected back to me through someone else so innocently and honestly, and it felt that even despite our age difference we shared something so human and obvious.

When she was telling me about selling her art she mentioned that she was also newly on Instagram because she felt obligated to. Her voice changed a little as she curiously reflected to me about the peculiar feelings associated with being on the app, how it started to make her want to check it more, which she didn’t enjoy, and how it also made her think that she had to post pictures of her art more often than she wanted to and it distracted from just making what she wanted. She told me a story about someone who wanted to buy a piece from her on instagram but she didn’t feel comfortable selling it to her until she came and saw it in person to make sure she liked it. She really wanted to make sure this person liked her art in real life before purchasing it. She couldn’t imagine how a tiny picture could communicate the reality of art. I could tell she genuinely cared about this.

I told her I wasn’t on instagram anymore and could really relate to her experience and she breathed a sigh of relief, and told me she thinks there was a reason she came out that day for me to walk by and tell her this.

I think we both felt less alone.

I didn’t have any cash with me that day and didn’t buy a piece, but I am dreaming of another day when the planets are aligned, the sun is just right, the wind is blowing north, and fate brings me to walk by while she’s out again so I can buy one of her lovely drawings. If it doesn’t happen, I may just need to drop a letter in her mailbox.

~~~

My Palette of the Month post will go out next! It’s my bonus process and research project sent to paid subscribers as a thank you for supporting my artist practice. Subscribe here for the full experience: