Back before I decided to toss the security of a steady paycheck out the window to become an artist, I used to work in the field of marketing. I'm not afraid to boast about my skill in the art of sales and marketing - I could sell anything to anyone. It doesn't take an MBA to figure out how to motivate people to buy useless things, all you really need is a sharp observation of human behavior and a little dash of predatory charm. Because it came naturally to me, my eyes would often glaze over while imprisoned in long and pointless product marketing meetings. While the team debated whether consumers preferred the red box or the blue box, I'd tune out and doodle in my sketchbook while blurting out "great idea!!" every 15 minutes to appear alert and give the impression I was listening. One such day, I stealthily sketched these images from news photos found in a Newsweek magazine lying on the floor next to me:
Something about the gesture of the subjects captivated me, so I began sketching line drawings and messing around with composition:
Unable to stop thinking of my sketches, I went home that evening, poured myself a glass of wine, and began making color studies of the images.
In a Bacchanalian frenzy, I drank the entire bottle of wine, dragged an empty canvas out of storage, and began painting late into the night. Never had I felt so alive. It was approximately 4:30 am when I decided there was no other choice but to quit my job. The finished painting is at the top of this post. Medium: acrylic on canvas.





Beautiful! You have such a way with colours! Oh, I love it! You could paint a pile of vomit into an amazing master piece!
Thanks for sharing your story, eh! I recently gave up the full time gig too, because it was making me ill. At the same time, my voice teacher gave it up too!
Posted by: midevil | August 23, 2008 at 06:28 AM
You are my inspiration! Your blog means so much to me. Thank you for sharing this story. It is so helpful to know a brilliant artist like you could have at one point been trapped in mind-numbing meetings and to hear how you escaped their clutches.
Posted by: dillydally | August 23, 2008 at 11:28 AM
You have a way of warping space that is endlessly fascinating ... the shadings of emotion and eroticism that permeate your works. That painting is amazing and thank you SO much for sharing the studies that preceded it. You are my favorite artist, 14. Too bad the art world is so fucked up now. thank God for blogs, yours in particular. Oh, and icanhascheezburger.com ...
love you!
Posted by: Knox Bronson | August 23, 2008 at 08:32 PM
GReat story and a great progression...I really love and appreciate the evolution, thanks for sharing that....and yourself of couse
xoxo
L
Posted by: Chaos by Design | August 23, 2008 at 10:15 PM
Wow! What an incredible post and story. I'd tell you the circumstances that lead to my departure but they are gross.
Enjoyed both sets of posts today! ;-)
Posted by: Michael Ian | August 25, 2008 at 03:38 PM
I love it. What a gorgeous piece it turned into. You're the one thing that is currently preventing the art world from being a big snotty shit-stained Hermes scarf. Thank you for this.
Posted by: Jenn F. | August 28, 2008 at 03:16 PM
Incredible! back to accruals and revenue .... sigh ....
Posted by: Demon Kitty | August 28, 2008 at 07:43 PM
Gorgeous!
Posted by: Chansmom | August 29, 2008 at 02:55 PM
They look like superheroes that you conjured up to save yourself.
Posted by: | September 05, 2008 at 05:07 PM
Great end result...and hearing how the process set your imagination on fire! Is the painting for sale?
Posted by: oceanswimmer | October 19, 2008 at 01:22 AM
Dear 14;
I share your analysis on the art of selling. I set up an outside sales route for an excellent pastry maker.He learned the secrets from a Belgin master and the pastries were probably worse on the heart vales than a two pack a day cigarette habit, but that didn't matter, the shop was full of people every day. I ate the extra samples as I drove and I gained pant sizes from the first day.
There was a coffee shop with the bakery and one day I was behind the counter when a rather large woman sort of sneaked in, trying to hide from her conscience. When she asked me what the brownies tasted like I did what you do: I looked directly her into the eye and said "It tastes like love." It was the secret password, I had spoken her inner truth, ruthlessly.
I love both sites.
Thank you,
Parker Worth
Posted by: Parker Worth | January 13, 2009 at 07:12 PM
gorgeous painting, excellent choice :)
Posted by: zoe | August 03, 2009 at 03:13 PM