Blackpaint 125

Private View

And again, the anxious wait, the scanning of the faces as they arrive – is this one yet another artist showing, or is it a punter?  They’re spending a lot of time looking at my painting in the corner.. look, she’s leaning forward to read the title and the price – shit, they’ve moved on.  Too much attention being paid to the twee little heads and the ones with the gold leaf on them – they’re clever enough, but not really art; more like novelties, toys really.

The trouble is, mine are too rough to sell in this sort of area; they don’t have the right finish.  The paint on the sides is uneven, not perfectly straight like on those other ones on the square, blocky canvases with the cartoon ladies and men with little arms against those warm pink backgrounds that everyone’s cooing over.

As for the prices, I think they’re all wrong – too high for the present time, everyone’s watching their pennies; I’d have put them on for £100 less…   Well, this isn’t much good, is it?  Everyone shrieking “Hello!!” to each other and standing chattering and drinking wine, not looking; half of them haven’t even looked at any of the work.  I’m in everybody’s way all the time, wherever I stand someone’s trying to get past, or I’m standing in front of something someone wants to see.  Some girl artist, about 20, shouting into her mobile how she’s been here an hour and only sold one little one, for £200 or something.. What’s he charging for that one? How much!? Surely no-one’s going to pay that for that.  And so on…

In the Rough Grass by Blackpaint

Listened to American Trilogy by Elvis.

“O I wish I was in the land of cotton,

Old times there are not forgotten,

Look away, look away, look away,



May Day 2010



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