Open Writing

As we age, it seems that our surviving contemporaries come along for the ride. With a very few exceptions, notably my children, my adult, intimate world has mostly been populated with people roughly my age. Now, therefore, I spend my days with folk who are, like me, living on borrowed time; that is if you believe the Biblical life span allocation of three score years and ten.

My world is filled with sayings related to the “golden years,” the most tedious of which is “I’m so busy I don’t know how ever I found time to do what I’m doing when I was working.” Obviously, people who say that have never heard of Parkinson’s Law, which in one of its various forms states that "Work expands to fill the time available for its completion." In my case, and that of my wife, the “expansion” is all to do with art - Art with a capital ‘A.’

In the part of Florida with which I’m familiar, the 130 mile coastal strip from Tampa in the north to Naples in the south, art in all its forms abounds. There’s a surfeit of two and three dimensional work in just about any media you can imagine – oils, water color, acrylic, stone, clay, glass, fibers, textiles, and on, and on. Binding all this together are a multitude of art leagues, associations, alliances and craft guilds.

It seems that every small town has one, and the cities have several. Each one has anything from fifty to hundreds of members. Within a thirty mile radius of my home there are at least seven. There’s the Bonita Springs Art League, the Cape Coral Art Studio, the Estero Art League, The Florida Craft Guild and the Art Alliance of South West Florida, and more.

The majority of such organizations provide classes and studio space, and also put on, or host, juried exhibitions for their members. Many also host very large, open air, juried art shows that attract top artists from all over America, who’s work sells at from $50 or $60 to many thousands. Their work and their resumes are very impressive.

In an attempt to explain this phenomenon to myself, I have concluded that there are several factors at work. The most significant is that most of this legion of local artists are retirees, some of whom are fulfilling a lifelong ambition to be artistically creative. Others are trained, commercial artists who are exploring forms of expression that their jobs precluded. Among the women artists are those who’s past lives have been filled with home making and child rearing or a career; sometimes all three.

There’s also a desire for “community” among people who are transplants from other parts of the US. My wife, Sandra and I fit into several of these categories: we’re transplants seeking a community, and have both been involved in art in one way or another for most of our lives, but never able to give our full-time attention to it. The breadth of opportunities in our location also has allowed us to explore forms of expression that were previously unavailable; in my case sculpture and in Sandra’s, fused glass.

Sandra’s professional life as an educator and administrator also equipped her for organizational pursuits that now find expression in the four art institutions with which she is connected. In a given week she may attend three or four meetings, a studio session and a class, and spend a day on her computer attending to administrative tasks.

At the height of the Florida season, when all the snowbirds are down from the north for the winter, it seems there’s an exhibition every other week in our locality. As exhibitors, the cycle goes like this. First, we prepare our work, and then submit it to the jury. If some or all of it is rejected, we then return to pick it up. Usually an opening reception is held a week later, and if a piece is accepted, the artist’s attendance is encouraged. The shows usually run from two to four weeks, and then we return again to collect our work, and hopefully our awards or a check for a sale.

In addition to exhibiting our work, we also volunteer at the big shows, usually to “booth sit” so the artist can take a break. With all of this activity you might wonder how we find time to create anything, and in truth it’s the lesser part of our endeavors. Sometimes it would be nice to have someone else to take care of the non-creative tasks, but then we’d only find ways to fill up the spare time it created. Parkinson has a lot to answer for.

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