Party Time


Party Time Notes

It’s party time tomorrow. This has been a very busy week. Two classes at the studio, lots of busy work and my to do list has been endless. I love a studio party. I never know if anyone will come or how many, but I always have fun as long as at least one person comes.  I consider the parties to be my thanks to students and collectors who do so much to support my career. They are a huge amount of work. Lots of cooking a few days before and a total gut of the space the day before. My studio looks so much bigger tonight without all the tables and I put the chairs in an oval right in the middle of the room. I want free space for visitors to stroll and see paintings. I use my three easels to place paintings on the shelf and the bottom legs, two per easel. I’m a  country painter, and I live in the woods. My studio is old with concrete floors. There are no frills at my parties. I have little time to prepare, so a good dusting and sweep out is as far as I get. I cover the work bench with brown craft paper to make the food table. Paper plates, canned drinks, bottled water. They come for the food and conversation, not high roller style. The studio is full of art, and I will have my fun art puzzles, cards, and art pins available too.

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I never expect parties to produce big sales, though I have had that good fortune. I think parties are more about fun and adventure. Folks come out and walk the trail, sometimes they bring friends or spouses, so I enjoy meeting new friends. Sending out post card invitations reminds people that I am still around. Any time you can get people to look at your paintings is a winning idea. I have found that my affluent friends love it out in the country. They don’t mind that I live in an old place with no landscaping and a swamp behind my studio. I know many painters who are afraid to have home studio parties because they don’t live in mcmansions.  They shouldn’t worry. True friends and supporters don’t much care about how you live, they are interested in you.

I have me three parties each year and that is just about right. After tomorrow, I’ll start thinking about the next one in May. My cake party is always the Saturday before Mother’s Day. It is my most popular party. Who doesn’t love homemade cake?

More to come…..

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3 thoughts on “Party Time

  1. Salesman are crass… I like your sensibilities…

    I read your thoughts regarding “salesman” versus “marketing”. I am not sure of the word you used as the opposite of “salesman”, but I know I dislike salesmen intensely. In fact, I declined to use an even stronger work to describe my feelings… A car salesman, who was part of a support group I attended, once told me that he could sell me or anyone else anything. The audacity required to make such a sweeping statement makes my blood pressure rise. I told him he could not sell me anything I did not want. I came out of the womb knowing what I wanted. I like your philosophy and am interested in your classes. I cannot draw. If you asked me to draw a stick house, it would look like a child’s drawing. I know what Picasso said about “drawing like a child…”, but, a psychiatrist tried to lead me to painting in a non-salesman tactic but the idea has sat on the back burner all these years; am 77 now and almost dead…I have not given up. What do I have to lose anyway, my doctor says I have had everything that kills people… anyway I love the picture of, “The Falls”, your father, Paul Kalb, painted. Maybe I could do abstracts since I cannot draw. I carry pictures of dresses in my head. I sewed for myself (vain) for many, many years and could just see a dress on someone, or a picture of one and could duplicate it from memory later. I would like to paint a face from memory, but that is impossible even though I can see it in my mind’s eye so clearly. It is strange to see images in my head and not be able to put them on paper… I have to think about the classes. I am old, sick and am spending $7500/year for Medicare and UF supplemental medical insurance. So, I have a few issues at present, but feel hopeful about what I might be able to yet do… All good wishes…

  2. Oh, sorry, I seem to have published this in the wrong subject field (blog).

    Anyway, I forgot a thought; impossible you say. I saw a psychiatrist in 1980 when I saw him for a breakdown after becoming addicted to prescribed drugs following cancer; subsequently “clean” for 33 years… . He was immensely helpful in saving my life.

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