My choice to become a visual artist began after looking back at 500 years of western painting, and finding a different way to represent it. If that had not happened my other options would have been a return to photography (Ansel Adams) that I had pursued for decades, fall back on my passion for poetry (Robert Frost & E. E. Cummings, or writing (Ernest Hemingway) that drove me in my twenties. Instead, I am making this new path by creating distinctive portraits of songs. These mini music boxes are now the latest step forward in this journey. Once, resolving production issues, their smaller size, and therefore shorter production time, will make them less of a risk in time spent and in artist project fatigue. These mini works should also double my yearly production, making more current art available to show in more exhibits and galleries.

Hearing the words left, right, in the video below, when testing a new stereo system install, is a relief knowing that all the soldering and wired connections work. This first test came about because the company where I have bought the 20watt amplifiers, that I have used for years in all my major artworks, where out-of-stock. That lead me to look for a backup replacement amplifier.

I had a major crossroad back in 1993. That was the year the tourist motel up in Northern Wisconsin that my wife and I managed, sold. We went from “Scott and Barb from the Lake Aire motel” to “scott and barb,” living in a neighborhood. It was in this transition period that I earned a two-year degree and went to work at a paper company as an IT support person. This is where I meet the maintenance crew that I supported.

The maintenance workers lived with the idea that if you wanted something done, the cheapest and the best quality would be if you do it yourself. During my time at the motel I outsourced all the needed improvements. Now working as an IT guy, with its modest income, I reluctantly realized if I wanted home improvements, I would have to do the work myself. That choice started a learning process helped by the advice and guidance of my friendly maintenance crew. What I achieved then now years later has helped me build better art. That was a major crossroads that I luckily chose.

Recently, I stumbled onto another crossroad, which showed up in a note I wrote that I later shared with my therapist. The scribbled message read “…everything would make sense up to this point if this art sold.” That got me to thinking: how do I justify my new large expensive studio, all these many years of time, and incalculable amounts of monies spent, that to this day eighteen years later, there is still no definable market or interest? Of course the answer is I can’t. But the note’s stark question, offers an equally stark answer. Even my therapist thought selling art to whomever wanted to buy was the way to go solve (my words) artist’s frustration exhaustion. I had made the point earlier that my wish was to sell to collectors.

I need sales, became my thinking at a time that I began producing smaller, cheaper, more home owner wall friendly works. The original purpose of these mini works was to help slow down my tight storage issues. But now I see their size, quality, and lower pricing as a as a fresh approach, ignoring all the previous promotional attempts. Another understated advantage for smaller sized works is that they will be visually a better fit with the other members of our artist collective, EmptyWallsArt.

Although I do not have numbers from talking, I feel most of my fellow member artists sell fairly consistently. Still, they joined the collective, looking for more opportunities to sell their art. Overtime I realized that their practical focus was to make art that sells. When I first help create EmtpyWallsArt, my naïve reasoning was it was all about creating original art, that would then catch the eyes of high end galleries, that would then sell the art. But that may not be what they were thinking. Speaking for myself, I see the membership’s current obvious desire is to create more art that sells. That got me thinking. Maybe I should stop (it was not working anyway) trying to convince the group to go crazy creative. Instead, I wondered if I should follow them instead, knowing what I wrote that sales make sense out of all this art thing.

The collective comprises members who need to sell art to make a living. Others appear to want to sell to supplement their income. Until I read my note to the therapist, I felt I did not fit in either group. What helped me to choose were my current projects of smaller, less expensive, and more viewing public orientated artworks. Changing my thinking to that of the supplemental sales group meant I was taking the note seriously. But soon there surfaced the omnipresent reminder of who I and this art were all about. Once again, I found myself at another crossroads. Should my directional choice be Dire Straits or follow the advice of Oliva Rodrigo?

Oh well “Fu#k it. It’s fine. Stay the course.”

Scott Von Holzen