Number Lore

I have, for the last 5 days, been working on the sales tax for the gallery. Now for those of you that don’t know me, numbers and my brain don’t always coincide. You can ask all the folks at my bank. We’re on a first name basis. Imagine a meteor hitting a small planet at a rather accelerated speed. It’s not that I’ve sold a great deal and there’s a plethora of receipts (not sure what people see in that word). After all…It is art we’re talking here people. But the fact that I’m doing any type of accounting is about the equivalent of me making a pot roast with all the trimmings. It’s quite an unnatural thing.

I feel certain that my accountant ascertained something in me early on that made him come up with an “idiot proof” chart. I’m to fill in “only the little green squares”. I’m to “utilize the drop down menus” and use “only the categories created”. He’s made it “H proof”. It won’t let me type ANYWHERE I’m not supposed to. Ahh, what’s the fun in that? He asked me to send him a small portion of my handiwork to be certain I wasn’t “coloring outside the lines”…screwing up his perfectly executed spread sheet. It even gives me a big red “OK” when I’ve done a good job. Kinda the equivalent of one of those gold stars in elementary school. I sent off my first draft. Sadly…it was for the year 2009 ;(

I did all the requested revisions to round one. I’ve just completed my 4th quarter, sent it off and am eagerly awaiting my grade. It took 6 cups of thick, black, pumpkin spice coffee just to finish. I remember the day when he looked me straight in the eye and asked me if I knew not to keep writing checks if I didn’t have any money in the account. I’m still chuckling over that. I distinctly remember my Father asking my Mother that very same thing! I can say in all honesty, on that one point, I’m pretty clear. I still wish I’d said “That’s when I’m supposed to pull out my credit card, right?…What’s life without messing with the analyticals?

As far as my relationship with numbers goes, I’m not concerned. One of the bank tellers yesterday told me I had wonderful “fashion sense”. The next teller readily agreed and so did the head of business accounts (and he’s a man). So you see…no worries…I already have some form of “sense” down. 😉

Day 3

Well, you remember that instant Karma thing? Karma works in mysterious ways…I believe in Karma…even if I don’t always get to see the end result…And, it’s not always instant…but in this case, humph!

Today “Previous Tenant A” finally deemed me worthy enough to call back. I now know the number and recognised it at a glance. Did I answer it. Good Grief…NO. That’s what Husbands are for! To take over with negotiations when things deteriorate to another level… not on this woman’s radar. There are fewer words involved between men…but lots of meaning behind them.

I called Mike. Mike called him and by noon “Previous Tenant A” was packing his belongings (or rather his belongings that we packed for him) into a truck and handing over 350.00 dollars. It appears he went “camping” . Naturally one would go “Camping” the actual day you’re supposed to move… I’m sure it’s in the tenant manual under selfish, cement headed idiots. I’m certain there is a Political position just waiting for this guy. Maybe a Senator or something?

He didn’t answer my 19 phones calls over a period of 8 days that ranged from really very sweet and charming… to somewhat peeved… to completely and totally… really pissed off. My Family and Friends will both attest that the third is a very rare thing in me…but when it happens, it takes care of everything that’s built up for years… So I’m good for quite some time 😉

Tonight I will meet with the Carpenter, the Electrician, the Painter and Drywall Guy. Hey, why not attack it full force…I’m 10 days behind. Just for fun, I told them to all show up at 6:30pm. I probably should serve refreshments as this will be my first impromptu party…but chairs might actually be even better! Heck, their all younger than me…they can stand!

Sadly, I was just beginning to develop a close personal friendship with all those water bottles…

Brown Noser

2 Good-byes

I went to my last Santa Monica Art show. It cost 8 dollars to park and 30 more for 2 people to get inside. I like to think myself progressive and open minded when it comes to art, artists and people in general. I love modern, experimental and performance art as well as all the previous masters, old and new. My home is filled with an array of eclectic pieces that I have both purchased and been gifted. So, upon arrival, when I was faced with a black canvas that looked very much like someone had chewed up Reynold’s wrap and spit it out onto the canvas… which I knew probably wasn’t the case, unless the artist had very good teeth indeed… I moved on with great anticipation.

I saw a really large bed mattress, painted entirely in high gloss baby blue, hanging from a wall with excess paint dripping under and below. I have an intense dislike for baby blue as it is…having had to endure my first home and it’s wall to wall baby blue carpet for a year because I could not afford to change it. To be faced with this was more than I could bare…even though I did marvel at the folks not smirking as they studied it… and I moved on.

I turned corner after corner, trying hard to hold my breath so I wouldn’t utter anything inappropriate….like “utter crap” or “Do they think us fools“. I listened to the “informed” and the “intellectuals“. I observed the scarfed, the hatted, the caped, the outright pompous and bejeweled. I saw phony after phonier trying to look the part of ” Artist” or “Artist Rep“and I won’t even go into what I saw in the ladies room as a woman prepared her “Costume“. I wasn’t even aware there was “A Look“…But what I didn’t see was alot of talent…real exciting new talent!

I watched the gallery owners and reps sitting in chairs, each assembled in their booths, all mindless of the people who had paid to see what was new. They sat madly clicking away on their Macs…God, I wished I’d had my 5D with me. There was so much material I was breathless.

Then I finally came upon something wonderful. It was new and fresh and fantastic. I stood looking at the canvas intensely. I watched out of the corner of my eye as I stood, waiting to be approached, the rep…sitting…doing nothing but holding her cell phone. After minutes, I walked over “to her“. I asked if she was the artist. “No” She told me…”she was the gallery owner” “The artist is_____”, then nothing more. I waited. I then asked about the medium and was given a short, specific answer…then nothing more. I waited. Then I asked if he was local…”No, German” was the reply. I waited. Nothing more. I looked at her and shook my head. I should have said “If you rep someone and you actually paid to get into this place, you probably should actually TALK about the work and the artist you are representing because I may be not be dressed as a Banker, or an Artist or a Movie Star ( I didn’t get the memo), but I may just be a future client“. But no, I shook my head and walked away. I felt a great dis-service towards the artist. I felt his talent deserved better…much better.

As I turned the corner, it was straight in front of me…the one “work of art” that finally made me lose it. It appeared to be a rather poor interpretation of Beethoven (or possibly Ben Franklin without glasses) sitting in a most unfortunate garden. I envisioned a brush being handled between toes (after I saw the artist). I can’t actually be sure because I couldn’t see the length of the toes but…I’m fairly certain…

I had to hold my hand over my face to cover up the loudest cackle…while quickly exiting…

While driving away from Santa Monica to head home, I passed a little old surf shop. I got out and shot this. I think the owner of the shop probably spray painted it himself, right on his own wall. I think it was the best piece I saw all day. It made me actual “feel” something. I connected with it instantly. I probably should have told him he had a definite future.

Friends and Allies

After dinner tonight I had my Husband stop the jeep and let me out in front of a small, local gallery in another Beach City up the road. He knew exactly what I was going to do before I said a thing. He is forever wise and protective in most things and warned me that they would be competitors and that they would not want to give out any information. I told him “I’ll just look around to get ideas”…

I know myself. I’m a woman that generally believes in the goodness of people. I go into things positively and, at times, I am disappointed to find I am wrong… but…I keep trying.

I went inside. I looked at the wonderful watercolors, oils, woodcuts and the most fabulous sculptures. Then I turned and was greeted by a warm smile. I asked him a few general questions and was answered in a pleasant manner. Then I looked him straight in the eye….and promptly spilled my guts.

I told him about my dream, talked of my floor plans, where the building was located and shared some of my ideas. He allowed me to picked his brain about insurance, openings, hours and how he selected his artists. He graciously showed me the art collections now being displayed and told me about his own 60/40 consignment pricing. Then he smiled as he proudly handed me a photograph of his main 6 artist’s. He explained that their art is rotated constantly and all are long time associates…and friends.

He showed me warmth, friendship and a intuitive understanding and he gave me a card and made me promise to come back when I was closer to opening up.

I took a chance and followed my heart. Now, I’ve made a new friend and ally. Touche’

The High Definition game