"That piece certainly shows promise. But it needs more. It lacks fluidity, it seems rigid. I would sum it up by saying it needs more heart, less inhibition." Fulton Davis was the critic and mentor who always tried to help young artists at the annual community art show. It helped when they actually had talent. With gray hair and steely gray eyes he had a distinguished look and despite an increasingly sedentary lifestyle, he had not added much to his waistline.
"Thank you Mr. Davis. But just how can I do that? I thought I was putting my essence into the art. I see the fluidity aspect, but I am not sure how to address the other concerns you have. Could we discuss this more at a later time? I know your studio, it isn't far from me." Beth Carney was glad to have the feedback, and wasn't about to miss an opportunity to get free advice from an expert to move her hobby forward.
"That would be fine, but I must warn you that my methods are, shall we say, a little 'unconventional'. But they achieve results for those who are serious about their art." Fulton watched her eyes as he talked. Her blue eyes looked into his and didn't blink or look away. He handed her a card with his direct contact information and thought to himself "She will do. Yes, she will do very nicely." As he walked on.
Beth was at least twenty years his junior at thirty, but she did feel a connection beside the art. She was not beautiful, but not unattractive, either. When her hair was short, people often commented on her "boyish good looks" which could also be a reference to her flat chest. Her lack of endowment had never bothered her and she was certainly comfortable with her body at her age. More than once she had smiled to herself as a girlfriend had complained about backaches or the sagging that comes with age. "Nothing that affects me" she would think.
A few days passed and Beth picked up the card with Fulton Davis' information and dialed her phone. No surprise, it was a recorded message which ended with a shrill "beep" for the message. "Hello Mr. Davis, this is Beth Carney, we met at the...". She was surprised when a voice picked up mid sentence.
"Yes, Beth. This is Fulton, and I am very happy you gave me a call to discuss your artwork. Ideally I would like you to bring a few examples and visit me. Would next Tuesday work for you? Say in the afternoon?" Fulton sounded like he looked. Distinguished with a very neutral accent.
Beth paused. Tuesday would work, but she hesitated while she thought. She always overthought things, for once she decided to just go for it. It was free advice, and good advice at that. "Yes, Tuesday will be fine. I will bring some pieces, and I am looking forward to it."
"As am I, Beth. Until Tuesday." Fulton hung up his phone and smiled.
Tuesday arrived and Beth had assembled several examples of her art to show to Fulton. She hoped he would become the mentor that could help her move from a hobbyist painter to a professional. She dressed in "business casual" to be safe. She didn't want to be too casual and definitely didn't want to overdress. Was she overthinking things? Probably, but that was what she did. She took a deep breath and decided she was ready. Two hours early, but better than being late.
Just after one she pulled into the lot, the gravel crunched beneath her tires. Her car was the only one outside the studio, Beth figured that Fulton just walked over from his house that was visible about a hundred yards behind with a path connecting the two buildings.
As she opened the door to remove her portfolio, Fulton Davis came out of the studio. "Hello, Beth. Welcome. Can I help you? The portfolio looks a little awkward, I can grab it." Chivalry was not dead, at least not here, anyway.
"Yes, thank you. I never turn down help, in fact that is why I am here." Beth decided to be assertive. Put it out there right from the start. "You offered some guidance, and here I am." They walked into the studio.
The windows and skylight made the room a very well lit venue to display paintings. There were lights, but they weren't needed on this day. "I'll let you arrange your works and then we can get started. I'll be back in just a few moments." Fulton pointed to the easels around the room and the disappeared through a rear door.
Beth found it interesting that there were no examples of Davis' work. He may have moved them out for her or perhaps they were in the back room where he had gone. She hoped he would show her some of his works as well as critiquing her. In a few moments she had set the five paintings on the available easels. Another deep breath and she was ready for him to return.
"Let's see what you have brought." Fulton breezed into the room. Beth stood almost at attention, like it was an inspection. "Please, relax, I just want to look them over. Then I will see what I might be able to offer."
"Thank you." Beth did let down a little. But it was a little unsettling to have another person review her work. She put a lot of herself into each work. She hoped he could tell that. "If you have questions, please let me know."
After a few quiet moments which seemed to Beth like hours, he spoke. "As I said before, you show promise. I see a personal investment that is crucial to any good art, but a bit rigid. Perhaps we can get you to 'loosen up' a bit. Don't be afraid of making a mistake. Some of my best aspects started with an 'Oh, shit' moment."
"Easier said than done for me. I tend to overthink things. Fear of a mistake can freeze me. But I'm getting a little better with that." Beth actually felt better just saying that, and he had hit the area she most wanted to work on. She hoped to become a little less reserved and more spontaneous in her life, not just in her painting. "Any specific suggestions for how to do that? What works for you?"
Fulton looked at her paintings and paused. He turned to her and his gray eyes seemed to look right through her. "I can show you a few of my works and a bit of my process, but what works for me may not work for another. You need to find your own system. Follow me into my workshop." He walked into the room where he had gone while she had set up her works.
The room smelled of paints, wood, solvents and a myriad of scents that came with any working artist. There were several canvases in various stages of completion, a still life, a country scene, a cityscape, but a human figure caught Beth's eye. Still in the early stages it appeared to be a female figure and a nude. In the center of the back wall were two beams about ten feet long and crossed in an "X". They faced the windows that looked back to his residence.
"I had mentioned when we first met that my methods were a bit unorthodox. A suggestion I would have for you would be to become the canvas. Be part of the painting, immerse yourself. That is function of the items you see here." Fulton waived his hand around the room before having it come to rest on the wooden "X".
