Fall Exhibitions...

here are my exhibition and event listings for the fall-

First Friday in West Chester
Friday, October 5th
6pm-9pm
Universal Massage Arts
105 S. High Street
3rd floor
West Chester, PA  19380
Recent works by Erica Brown.

Great Lakes
“Small Works”
October 4 – November 10, 2011
Reception:  Friday October 5, 5-7pm
Riverside Arts Center
76 N. Huron Street
Ypsilanti, MI 48197
“39 Hours” is featured in this exhibition.

“Art of Caring”
The Hickman
Friday, October 12, 2012 6:30pm
400 North Walnut Street
West Chester, PA 19380
The hand painted furniture piece created by Erica Brown is currently on display at Fairman’s in West Chester, PA.

 
Maryland Federation of Art
“Strokes of Genius”
Exhibition dates:  November 2 to November 24, 2012.
Reception: Sunday, November 11, 3-6 p.m.
Maryland Federation of Art
Circle Gallery
18 State Circle
Annapolis, MD  21401
410-268-4566
“Rapt” is featured in this exhibition.

 
The Unionville Art Gala
November 9th  6-9pm and November 10th 10am-3pm
Unionville High School
750 Unionville Road
Kennett Square, PA  19348

 

 

of slugs, accidental hommicide and unlikely inspiration...

ok- i have 2 confessions...
1- i love most living things and find many unlikely living creatures endearing. this includes slugs.
2- a couple of nights ago i went to step out onto my studio stoop (barefoot mind you) and stepped directly onto the head of slug. i felt terrible. i almost cried.

*please note: i have done no research in attempt to answer the questions that follow.  in a rather romantic mood- i'm ignoring google for the time being and letting the questions fester and in their own weird way inspire... but feel free to respond if you know any of the answers.

tonight i went out on that same stoop. after a few minutes i happened to glance at my feet and right there next to me on the doormat, right near the remains of what was the head of that slug from the other night, was a slug just like it.  i moved the doormat to the side and conintued to watch.  it slowly crept to the spot of the remains and has lingered there for a long time.

here is where my corky questions begin...
1 are slugs cannibles? is it eating the remains of the slug i accidentally killed? was it attracted to it for that reason?
2 how quickly do slugs regenerate? the "new" slug came from the direction where, disqusted with myself, i had tossed the body of the slug i accidentally killed. is it mourning the loss of it's own head?
3 is this some type of crazy sign?
(i realize that the last question is not very logical, but like i said- i'm going with a romanticised mood)

perhaps i should take this strangley emotionally charged experience as inspiration for a painting.
lets call the slug i killed...hmmm...jasper.  if you see a painting involving the name Jasper on my website in the future, you now know where its inital inspiration came from.

this would not be the first painting i have done in the honor of a random seeming pest.
there is "Annabell" which was painted in the honor of a very aggressive spider living in the front window of a place that i was staying.  i did my best to relocate her for the sake of the children living upstairs, but felt kind of bad about it.
below is "Annabell" the painting.  unfortunately(?) it sold before i got a good photograph of it.

 

 Then next would come "Tribute".
i was at home reading. i had a rough day and was actually going through a rough time.  i was taking a moment to pray about it all when something which went accross my view.  i focused my eyes on it and it was a tiny white moth.  it had featherlike wings and though they were moving very fast, they were so small that i was able to get a good look at it. it was beautiful. an odd image of hope amidst my troubles.  earlier in the night i had done some painting in my sketch book with black sumi ink while taking a bath.  (yes, i know. not the best idea. i will tell you someday of how i once dyed myself, my tub and towels all green from a bath/painting mishap!) i had left the ink out on the counter.
when i woke in the morning, still with that tiny white moth on my mind, i walked into the bathroom. to my horror i found the beautiful tiny white body of a moth floating on the surface of that jet black ink. i felt absolutely terrible. i never touched the cup and let the ink evaporate with the body entombed.  i later presented it to the person who bought the below painting.
and in it's honor i painted "Tribute"

 

 

and as i write this, that mystery slug is still engrossed in the remains of Jasper. i'm not sure what to think of it. the longer it stays, though, the more seemingly gruesome the inspiration becomes. i'm going to stop looking.

After a conversation

The other night I had the pleasure of talking about my work to a couple that is interested in becoming collectors. The gentleman seemed to feel awkward asking questions about my work. He labeled himself a non-artistically minded person. I tried to put him at ease, but because I was working at the time, I couldn't give them my full attention. If I had the time this is what I would have said...
Its ok not to "get it".
And "getting it" is often a misunderstanding...
It's okay to ask questions.
Your interpretation has it's own merit.
(I certainly do not aim to confuse my viewers. If I reference something vague, it is because I do not want to limit the people who view my work in their personal interpretation.)
If it's abstract art in general that you don't "get"- that's ok! Let's talk- maybe I can help.
If you really want to try and understand my work in particular, come visit my studio and I'll walk you through the process, both of thought and action. I will do my best to put you in my shoes creatively. You can ask me just about any question that is on you're mind.
* * *
Of course artwork is a valid investment in of itself, but I do hope that the majority of people who purchase my work do so because they genuinely like, are moved by and/or want to look at it often.

I decided to share this because this is a common scenario. I thought that by putting it "out there" maybe somebody else might find it interesting to hear my point of view on the matter.

Inspiring

"Truth and reality in art do not arise until you no longer understand what you are doing and are capable of but nevertheless sense a power that grows in proportion to your resistance."
— Henri Matisse, Painter

39 hours

I just found out that my piece, "39 Hours" will be a part of the

"Great Lakes Small Works" exhibition in Ypsilanti, MI

at the Riverside Arts Center in October.

Unfortunately i will most likely not be able to attend and will be shipping it.

If you live nearby, i hope you attend :)

 

Great Lakes "Small Works"

Reception: Friday October 5, 5-7pm

exhibition runs from October 4th- November 10th

 

Riverside Arts Center
76 N. Huron Street
Ypsilanti, MI 48197

"39 Hours"

6"x6"

mixed on panel

WC Dish Artist in Restaurants Series

I was interviewed by the wonderful Jeff Schaller for this online publication last month.
thought i'd share...
http://westchesterdish.com/2012/09/artists-in-restaurants-erica-brown-in-pietros-prime/

check out his blog here or his website- http://www.jeffschaller.com/

also, here's a funny, brief video portion of the interview from his youtube channel:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UHdvAnUex0k&feature=bf_prev&list=UUpjsGlTotRvkid3yhaVo4XQ

(i'm such a dork!)

the fight and how it began

"Work isn't to make money; you work to justify life". (Marc Chagall)

to make a business out of my art is not an easy task for me (and often not even for the most seemingly confident professional artists.)

on the negative side, it is filled with fear, worry and frustration.  overcoming insecurities and taking a chance in the business realm- never mind the wrestling of self in the actual studio and production of work, or the financial issues. if one should study art history, you realize that most artist's work is not truly appreciated until long after they have passed.  and then every aspect of their life becomes a part of their story.

possibilities are wide open, but you are one artist amongst millions trying to do "this".
and what you are offering may be your absolute best, but just not quite what somebody is looking for...

on the positive side- it is filled with inspiration- letting one's self embrace the creative spirit and at times get lost in it. the gift of affirmation- good reason to continue doing such a difficult thing when somebody is moved by something you create, when you receive great free press or when an exciting exhibition falls into your lap.
when somebody sees something you have created and just has to have it...


i'm kind of in the limbo here...
i know i need to branch out. to grow.
practicality will not allow me to do as many shows that i think may have doubtful results.
now, more than ever, i need to attempt to make this business of my heart work.
i have a family now.
at one time i sacrificed eating to buy art supplies. i can't do that anymore. i need to function. i need to provide...
right now on one side i am facing my fear and trying to take my career to the next level.
on the other side i am delving back to my roots in the studio- why i do all of this in the first place.
i am getting ready to work on several larger scale encaustic pieces (unfortunately, for the sake of preservation, larger scale encaustic pieces are usually max  48"x48" unless you work in a diptych or triptych format)
as you can imagine, all of this breads quite a level of legitimate anxiety.

so i remember...
Erica, you were a student at Tyler. you just started dabbling in encaustic. there was this image in your head that you couldn't shake. as usual for you, there is often a disparity between what you see in your mind and the process to achieve it. (perhaps this is why i was made to "find" my paintings as i paint them). it was a 78"x78"stretched canvas. you worked on it at night when there seemed to be nobody around. you were still clinging to the interaction between figures to convey your meaning, though it was evolving to be come more and more abstract.  you went to take a break. you wrestled with yourself until you were ready to delve back into it. it was almost done...
you returned to the studio space to find somebody before your painting.
you watched as they cocked their head, this stranger, and seemed to get lost in it.
they looked around (not seeing you) and then moved closer and lovingly stroked it's surface.
you watched in awe and turned around and tip toed out of the room
this was bigger than you. that moment between the viewer and the work that you witnessed was a treasure.
this is the first time i truly felt a quote i often use-

"The position of the artist is humble. He is essentially a channel."
Piet Mondrian

this is the first time i witnessed somebody deeply moved by something these humble hands have created. every time it has happened since, it has renewed my belief that i'm supposed to be doing this.