Doing the math

I went to art class today. I painted some of the gardenias that were in our garden.


OK, I know the photo is a little crooked, but I'm letting things slide today. I don't feel very good.

Everyone else in the class is in their 70's and above and I was the least chipper one there, except perhaps the lady who just got back from New York and may have been exposed to the swine flu.

If I start feeling that sick, I'll let you know.

I rarely paint, except when I'm in class. At home, there a lot of things to drag out and set up and I worry about the dogs swallowing a tube of paint.

Bijou actually stole a tube of Burnt Sienna once and chewed the top off before I caught her. She's the reason I have Animal Poison Control stored on my cellphone. It's 888-426-4435.

It seems like I have an unlimited store of artwork to post here, but I have a lot backlogged and some that I haven't even photographed yet.

I've been taking classes for seven years and paint an average of one painting a class, so that makes about 112 paintings or drawings I've completed. Only eight of them are actually hanging in our house.

I budgeted for two sessions this year of eight art classes, which means I'll probably paint only 16 days this year.

That also means I'll have another 16 or so paintings to hang, give away or put in the garage.

I used to show my work a lot in Henry County and entered several competitions. I never won anything. The favored pieces were flowers that look like photographs and roosters that look like roosters. Mine don't fit that category, and I really don't want them to.

I did have a couple of pieces in a gallery once, but it closed before they were sold. The gallery owner liked my profile portraits of a model in my art class:

Right before I took them to the gallery to be displayed, the frame of another painting cut a half inch gash in the canvas of the one on the left.

I was just sick about it. But another coat of paint sealed the repair.

Crisis averted.

I even had the fun of attending a gallery opening reception. I can't remember the names of the other artists I met, but I remember there was a double rainbow that night and everyone forgot about the artwork for a few minutes and ran out to see it.

Now, for the first time in five years, I'm going to display some paintings in another McDonough gallery. It's an exhibition of artwork from University of Georgia alumni from Henry, Clayton, Rockdale and Spalding Counties.

I hadn't bothered with the gallery before because there are paintings of landscapes, fruit and flowers that look like photographs in the window.

Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Some people wonder why artists charge so much for a painting. I haven't kept a running total of the cost of classes and supplies, but the tab would easily run into the thousands.

No one questions how a doctor can charge $110 for a five minute exam. It's the years and experience behind those five minutes that count.

Painting is more than a skill; it's an art. You're actually taking away a piece of the artist's soul if you buy a one-of-a-kind original painting. At least it should be that way. And it's hard to put a price tag on that.

I haven't thought of bartering a painting for a doctor's bill, but I did give my neurologist one of my paintings as a "thank you" gift last year.

Ironically, it's based on a photograph I took in Mexico five years ago.

No one is going there now. No one is buying paintings either.

But art is all around.

It's free to look. Just open your eyes.

And you can even "travel" to Mexico without getting sick.