Since the beginning of this year, I have been dabbling in ATC's & ACEO's. No, these are not stocks or some arcane- and possibly unethical, financial scheme- they are artists trading cards & artists cards, editions, originals. They are small works, the same dimensions as a baseball trading card: 2.5"x3.5". The only difference between an ATC and an ACEO seems rather arbitrary and a bit silly to me- that ATC's are traded and ACEO's are sold; as far as I am concerned, selling something is a trade- you are trading the card for a twenty dollar bill in the case of my miniscule works. And besides, Artists Trading Card sounds better.
But I, as usual, digress. The WAAM held what was billed as an ATC swap meet the other evening but though I spent the day churning out my tiny contributions, I came home empty handed. I looked at the work others had produced but by and large they were just little color printouts of their larger works glued onto poster board- very few original pieces in the bunch. The few originals that were offered looked to have taken the artist all of 1 minute to produce- each or as a collection it is hard to say. I didn't want to trade my truly hand-wrought cards for cards I perceived as not of equal value so, I ended up just consigning what I had brought to the shop and consigning myself to disappointment.
So, I ask myself: am I working too hard or are they working too little?
I am always on the lookout for new words for my Word Project and this landed on my desktop the other day: mythologein (to tell mythical tales). This is an archaic word but it packs a real semantic punch for me. Twice in the past week, observers of my work had commented on its connection to deep wells of myth and symbol- they had also asked why my work is not being shown in NYC- a question that I have no answer for since I cannot ask it of any gallery owners, since they don't answer my queries...
So, now in addition to styling myself as a bricoleur (someone who makes artful use of materials at hand) I can now add mythologeinist (teller of mythical tales.) Does this increase my chances of getting my work at the very least seen by the swells in the big city? No, but it puts a name to the mantle I have been wearing these past years and gives me frisson of linguistic delight; for today, that'll have to do.
As for the tea? Nothing to speak of beyond the usual too many cups of.
58 days to go and counting... (W and Dick: resign today if you love this country at all.)