Dream Fragment, 1997. Ceramic Sculpture, Tim Hernandez
My 10-year-old son walked into an Art Reception with me. I was running errands, this one was during the daytime, so I brought him with me. I whispered in his ear, “We should get out of here pretty quick.”
He looked up at me, not understanding what I meant; this was like a trophy ceremony to him in little league.
“It’s not a good idea to be in a room of nothing but compliments for too long,” I explained to him.
As an artist, I have been to many receptions of my work, friends, and colleagues. What most of us encounter, outside of colleagues, are semi-puzzled comments, mostly supportive. Art can be elitist and most people have difficulty interpreting a visual language that may have been years in development.
My wife recently arranged a book signing for me, which was dramatically different. Number one, I could sit at the signing table for a few hours, not stand. Number two, the staff supplied beverages, beer at my request, all night. People sat at the table, primarily acquaintances, and asked questions about the book and at times, shyly requested for me to sign it. I found the process humbling, the show of support for a fellow ex-pat in Portugal, and engaging; the questions were probing and challenging at times.
People were on comfortable ground discussing a much more common art form, writing than arcane ceramic sculpture. As a creator, the interactions were informative and very rewarding. The questions about the book were insightful and honest.
I retired into another field. It turns out I can write a 340-page novel, much to my surprise. The process of writing I found very fulfilling, just like my studio work. Now to work on that humility that I could always see in the eyes of my sons as they looked toward me; maybe they still are as men. Now that is humbling.
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