Uppity downity

Despite a mammoth mail-out over the last few months, both in the UK, Europe and the USA, there's no commercial work on the horizon. The tax man's taken all my dough...I've got plenty of nothin'....and the tumbleweeds blow through my ever increasing overdrafts. But hey, that was then, this is now. It really has been a worrying 2007 so far. We can't survive on just Andy's wage, and with the bus service being cut yet again, it's impossible to get a 'normal' job out of the village, unless you drive. (I don't). A friend gave me one of those free New Year calendars from a Chinese takeaway, knowing that I collect ephemera. We'd just been talking about my penurious situation, so imagine my delight when I read the advice for Sheep -

'A year filled with obstacles and setbacks. Only perseverance and hard working will bring out the rewards. Income is fairly unstable. Expenses exceed your earnings. A sound financial planning is needed. Love partner is quite unpredictable.'

Recently I had to pull the plug on a large, privately commissioned painting. Twenty-five hours of work for a tailor-made (and therefore unsaleable to anyone else) piece, due to what we might call a break down in communciation. I thought that the Chinese fortune teller might be have right after all...one good thing came out of it; I was so annoyed I told the always-demanding and not-very-well-paying client that I cannot work for them again, which I've been dying to do for years.

Anyway, I'm in the middle of a shift in style again. For the last two years I've been doing mostly educational style work, like the 'Drake's Tail' pictures. It's bright, it's cheerful, it fits the brief. I've changed the way I draw children, I've changed the way I use colour. It's been good for me. But I've kind of missed my old fashioned artworks, the ones people used to like and sometimes buy. The stuff which has been described variously as 'sad' 'melancholy' and even 'grim'. I started painting up a few pieces for an Etsy store, with no more hope than I'd make enough to buy a bit more firewood, and some groceries. I finished this...


...and this...

...and then, in the middle of all that snow, a couple of weeks ago, I got a phone call. A fellow cricket 'WAG' and friend from our club had (unbeknownst to me) passed on my name to an art gallery who specialise in vintage and modern children's illustration. Would I be interested in selling work through them? So, we arranged for them to visit a couple of days later. Then it snowed. Boy, did it snow! But still they came. And I dragged out as much artwork as I could physically get out of my cramped studio, for them to browse. They were quite delightful people - a love of cats, interest in motorbikes and shared eclectic musical tastes helped make it a thoroughly convivial meeting. And they enthused about my work. Not the jolly infant posters. Not the reading cards or the 'Princess's Handbook'. Not even 'Pinwheel Days'. They pounced - mainly - on the 'sad' stuff. The works I've had kicking about in my folios for years. They told me that my 'urchins' (which I discarded on the advice of a junior Art Designer, who told me that they were not right for today's publishers) - were worth continuing with. They liked the dark stuff, the old-fashioned styles...

I was hoping they would take away a couple of pieces to get feedback on, I was expecting nothing more. But I was out of the room for five minutes and came back to find a set aside pile of 11 works and the offer of a substancial cheque. Somewhat gob-smacked, I looked at what they had chosen. A few early Winnie the Pooh try-outs from the Disney job. The rejected artworks for the 'Velveteen Rabbit'. One of my favourite works, 'Queen for a Day' - rather badly reproduced here -


and the two newest works (above) I'd been about to flog for a farthing on Etsy. And, by the way, if I did happen to do any more 'quality' work, would I let them see it please?
I had to take up all the unsigned artwork and scribble my name on them. Then they disappeared into the snow, and we picked our jaws off the floor, Andy too, as neither of us had expected anything like this. When you've been dreaming of lucky breaks for two decades and been knocked back time and time again, you simply give up hoping, although you plod on, because what else can you do? This week I had a call to say that two of the artworks are now framed, and ready to go display at the 'FORM' exhibition.

The bad patch has passed for the moment. We have wood, we have a full store cupboard, the bills are paid and my tax return is sorted. This week someone bought one of the 'bargain' framed paintings I had, for more than the asking price, and told me I sell my work too cheaply.

(It's called the 'Easy Over' after the US phrase for soft eggs, I only later later discovered that the phrase is 'Over Easy.' Oops.)

To be honest, I don't feel I'm out of the woods yet, and I still feel anxious about the future. But at least I have some breathing space to sort some new ideas out. And, as Andy likes to say, it's all gravy. I like todays' Western horoscope, for Cancer -

You may appear uncertain about your long-term plans now, but that's because your words are not telling the entire story. You probably know exactly how you feel, yet cannot easily express it to others. Don't waste too much energy trying to convince anyone else that you aren't floundering. If they don't understand, just come back to the discussion later.

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