Where Does Art Go? (“WDAG”)

My time making art is not diverted to pondering where my art will go.  The challenge is to filter the daily distractions and see where ideas for art go.  In my imaginary world, the “Where Does Art Go?” (“WDAG”) question takes care of itself.  In this world art directors and collectors discover my art and take it where more eyes will appreciate it.  In this fairytale the art materials required to make art arrive on my porch.   Oh, and my imaginary studio friends carefully pack my newest piece.  (For for the record,  there is only me, myself and I… without a logo and no business plan.  I just make art).

When ideas lead to completed artwork the “WDAG” question comes up.  I could stack art in piles, put it in the attic or haul it in the back of my van.  I don’t think these options are how the art conservator in my fairytale handles art.  I also don’t generally handle my art in such a non-archival manner.  Honestly, there are times when a funeral pyre is the best way for artists to address the “WDAG” question.  Some ideas do need to go up in smoke.

Over the years artists make many pieces.  Organized artists may catalog their works so it can be retrieved for various museum retrospectives starting at age 40, then at 60 and again sometime past age 75.  I cannot really guess where my art has gone.  I’ll just cope with a smaller retrospective at an imaginary museum.

Recently someone I didn’t know updated me on where a piece of my art is located.  This person was cleaning around a piece of my art in their home (in my fairytale, the home is filled with a priceless art collection) and finally deciphered my hand scrawled signature.  They searched my name on the Internet, discovered Zeorlinart.com and sent the email.  It confirmed how art can enrich the life of someone else.

Years ago another “WDAG” update happened in an unexpected way.  While visiting my parents (in a city where I was raised) I took a side trip to a thrift store.  Inside such stores my eyes auto-scan for objects worthy of my vast imaginary personal art collection.   I was startled when I noticed a piece that was unmistakably mine from art student days over two decades ago.  I  inspected the piece, recalled what I was doing at the time the art was made and acknowledged how I had changed since then.  I told my wife about this discovery and she assumed I would bring it home.  But I didn’t bring the piece back.  I pondered the places the artwork could have been and liked the idea of it being “discovered” again by someone with a good eye.  Of course, this person would have refined tastes, take my art home, decipher a scrawled signature and research the Internet.  Then I’d receive another email update on the “WDAG” question.  This time I might record the location of the art so it can be included in my imaginary retrospective.  So keep your eyes trained because there is always something waiting to be noticed.


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