Evidence of the Artist
What do you look for in the work you enjoy? How do you feel closer to the work itself?
Recently, I held an open house at the Brimstone Studios studio, in Des Moines. It was the first Friday of the month, which meant most of the artists in Mainframe were hosting open studios. It’s a prime time to connect with people and make a few sales. My interactions with walk-ins have been growing and improving, and so have the sales. It’s all good news on First Fridays at the studio.
In the back of the studio space, I have a small work area with my drafting table, most of my equipment, and my work chair. During First Fridays I’ve taken up sitting in my work chair and hiding in the back of the room. Part of my reasoning for sitting in the back is that I want people to have ample space to walk through the retail portion of the studio. Another part is my internal goober convincing me I need to sit in the back and be out of sight. But that doesn’t help. People want to see the artist.
Sometimes, when I’m sitting in the back of the studio, or when I’m holding down my table at an event, I’m afraid I look like this:
When it comes to something like social media, I love pictures like this. It’s unflattering, but funny. It’s kind of how I feel in online spaces, so it works. Nobody is buying something from a face like that, though. It’s important to look approachable if you’re going to connect with people. It’s socializing 101. If I’m at an event and I need to look alert, awake, and approachable, I have two approaches to avoiding that face. The first is to stand up. I have better posture when I’m standing, and am less inclined to sink into a void of phone scrolling. The second approach is to draw something.
I may not be the world’s most renowned artist, or an inker with incredible prestige, but I am a pretty accurate inker. I have a smooth hand and can command a brush with admirable skill. When people step up to my table as I’m drawing they might start by trying to figure out what I’m working on, but the conversation always heads toward the mesmerizing effect smooth inking can have over them. Sure, it’s fantastic to enchant a viewer. But, I love being able to share how I use a tool, and why I use a tool. While most of these interactions lead to a sale, I can at least give them thoughts to take away.
What’s so important about letting people see me draw, though? It’s evidence of the artist. Evidence I drew something can create a stronger relationship between me and the buyer. They can even attach a story to it, a story they might share when someone looks at the work they bought. I’ve known the importance of this concept at events for years, but it wasn’t until January 3rd, 2025, that it really set in for my work in respect to a public studio.
One thing I did, when setting up the studio space, was install a television. On this screen, I run loops of various timelapses I’ve captured over the years. I love having these reels playing because not every artist in the building has something like that, and it provides greater insight into my process. People always seem curious about the steps I take, and the time it might take, to put a piece together. Having these videos helps answer those questions. When artwork was hung in the studio, Cathryn dug out some thumbnails for pieces like my 2022 Mothman print and hung it next to the original. I didn’t think much of it until this First Friday, when a new customer pointed it out. He was interested in it because he could see more of the choices I made before penciling, inking, and coloring the final piece.
This customer dug in much deeper when approaching my Faithless, Fearless, series. We talked about drawing characters from figure work, and he honed in on the piece Disparity. It’s the only colorful piece in the series, and the only piece illustrated on duralene. It’s not the same scale as the other pieces, and features no evidence of pencil. These differences were the root of the name, Disparity, after all. Because it’s so different, I struggle with the piece being a part of the series. It stands out, starkly, and I’m never sure it belongs.
My interested customer asked about the plastic-like paper, duralene, and we discussed how it takes ink a long time to dry and that pencils are rough and destructive on a smooth surface like that. I mentioned that, since duralene is less opaque than most surfaces, I drew the sketch on paper, and then overlaid the duralene and inked as a tracing. The customer lit up, he wanted to see the sketch, if it still existed. To both our fortunes, I had the sketch work readily available, and he snatched it up. The original inks still hang on the wall, but this guy immediately knew he was taking home the pencils.
Disparity’s sketch led this customer to digging through more of my sketches. He skimmed past all the skillfully inked pieces until he found one with some pencil still remaining. I inquired as to why he’d pick this piece, and like Disparity and the Mothman thumbnails, he liked the pencil. It showed him more of my work. It provided more evidence of the choices I made. It was evidence of the artist.
I don’t know why it took so long to click. Oftentimes, when I am coloring a piece, I will clean up my ink work digitally. I frequently go out of my way to take my smooth inking to the next level. I carefully redact any remnants of pencil and do everything in my power to land on a crisp result. However, when I am looking through artwork I enjoy, I, too, prefer artwork with some evidence of the artist inside it. Some leftover diagraming, some pencils in the margins. When I think about some of my favorite music, like Janglepop, one reason I gravitate towards it is because it’s not over-produced. I can often hear the difference from one section of the chorus to another, even when it’s skillfully composed. Sometimes I can hear the breath of a singer, or the slide of fingers in a chord and I get more evidence there’s a person in there.
If this is a big part of what I enjoy, and the key reason for these transactions, why do I not lean more into the evidence and keep more sketches in my work? That’s something to chew on for now. And, as I chew, I’ll stop hiding in the back of the studio during open houses. While you chew, take a look at one of my most successful pieces of 2024, Watch the Skies. It has a bit of the sketch still in there. Can you see it?
Today’s Tune
Want to buy a Watch the Skies Print? It’s now on our growing website!
I also enjoy on my original art pages seeing blue line pencils on them. Good newsletter!