a few weeks ago, i redecorated my bathroom. i now have a grey linen shower curtain, new art, and nothing on the sink except for a candle, soap, and the occasional flower. it is very calming.
the previous art – a photograph of a fall scene in michigan, a gift from my sister – is in a closet, waiting to be taken to a framer. i love the photograph, but i have never fully appreciated it because i do not like the frame i chose. i went into a store to find a frame and a mat; they didn’t have the right frame; but i didn’t feel like going to another store so i just bought a frame that was sort of ok. it has been bugging me ever since. the little things do make a difference.
after much deliberation, the art i decided on included one of my photographs. as usual, i ordered it from shutterfly. if i am ordering prints for myself, i almost always order them from shutterfly. it’s fast and easy and i am always happy with the result.
i was thinking about this, because when i order prints of my photographs to sell, i order them from a local print shop. i do this partly because i like to support local businesses, partly because i like the quality of their prints, but partly because in the back of my mind, i think of words i see listed in the description of prints for sale from other photographers/artists, words like “premium”, “archival quality”, and “good for 100 years”.
who knows, maybe those same things are true of prints from shutterfly, but i don’t think they are a lab geared toward the professional photographer.
the reason i was thinking about this is because i realized that longevity and the idea of heirloom quality art – something you will pass down to your children – aren’t important to me when it comes to art. in fact, i suspect that thinking about longevity (maybe not in terms of how long it will last, but in terms of how long you will love it) is yet another factor that stops people from purchasing art, especially if they are someone who is learning how to identify and honor their own unique style. if you’re not sure whether you love a piece today, trying to determine whether you’ll love it forever on top of that is a fool-proof recipe for decision paralysis.
our tastes change. what we love and are drawn to today might not be what we love and are drawn to next week or next month or next year.
i might need to write more about this, especially since one objection to honoring this is related to money and there are many ways to take that into consideration.
for now, i just want to wish you permission and courage, so that, as rumi says, you can “be silently drawn by the strange pull of what you really love”, even (and especially) when it changes.
speaking of art, i have an 8×10 print of my photograph (pictured above). if you want it, leave a comment letting me know, and i’ll draw a name from the responses.