on secrets and seriousness and new songs

Lou Evans #1 (Hello Lou)

Lots of artists use pseudonyms.  Why?  To experiment, to be able to sell different kinds of work in different markets, to keep their main body of work looking coherent, because they are uncertain about some work, all kinds of reasons.

But of course, most artists keep it a secret – that’s the whole point, right?

Well, not always.  I’m not good at secrets.  I don’t like them and they don’t like me.  I avoid having to protect secrets because I think they are burdens.  They separate people.  They can sap energy and usually confuse things.  They make me feel uncertain and guilty.

Sometimes I have secrets, but I try not to.

Lou Evans #6 (Don't think about elephants.)

But we’re talking about business secrets, not family or friend secrets.  That’s different, right?

For me, not so much.  I sort of am my work.  I reach as deep inside myself as I can, and I put what I find on a piece of cloth.  Then I put my name on it and if you give me money, you can take it home and put it on your wall.

That’s one reason for me to sometimes use a pseudonym.  I can get very immersed in my work.  Sometimes I feel like I’m married to it, or that it is who I am.  That’s not really healthy, and I think that kind of very natural confusion is one of the things that can make some artists lost and crazy in the world outside our own psyches.  Yeah, that kind of crazy.

I’ve had a toe in that kind of crazy, and am not interested in getting deeper.  So I sometimes look for ways to remind myself that paintings aren’t me, they aren’t gods or golden idols, and they aren’t really all that important.

Lou Evans #4 (bull)

Something that IS important to me, going into this next year, is to find ways to remember that my work is what I do, not what I am. It’s my living, not my life.  So a pseudonym feels like a good idea for building a little healthy compartmentalization.

I’ve also gotten heavy and serious about my painting.  In some ways that’s good.  I push.  I use it to support my family.  I’ve grown tremendously over the last ten years and worked through lots of tough challenges.  My painting may be stronger because of the stretching and reaching, or who knows, maybe I’d have gotten here anyway if I hadn’t struggled.  But the pressure has been bad for my health and it’s time to catch my breath.  That means I need to spend some time in the coming year working on lighter, free-er work – work that is a surprise even to me.  I need to do some quicker, easier paintings.  I’ve gotten into the habit of picking a word to center my awareness around every year.  The one I chose for the coming year is “Ease.”

Aside from being a nice word, “Ease” is what I called my grandmother, whose given name was “Louise.”  I just found out two young adults I know got tattoos this year honoring their mother who passed away ten short years ago.  We find ways to honor people who helped form our lives.  I think I got most of my best parts from Ease.  I know I got my grit from her, and most other things in me that are strong.  I want to be stronger.  And I want find my own ways to remember to have ease in my life – that strength doesn’t mean struggle.

Lou Evans #7 (Fan Dance)

This way I get to try some little things I can’t do with my big signature work.  For one thing, I didn’t keep chronological records when I started.  I’ve sold somewhere between 1000 and 1500 paintings as Genie Maples – but as for Lou Evans, it’s all new for her.  I can number these paintings and keep a clear record of how the work develops. Learning more about that process so I can share it intrigues me.

If you hurry, you can have the very first numbered Lou Evans painting, probably for a song.  That chance won’t come again.

So, psst.  It’s an open secret.  Lou Evans is me.  That’s why her work looks familiar.  She paints with the kind of ease Genie Maples painted with before it all got so important.

I like both kinds of work.  Maybe you will too.