One of the most exciting things about social media is that every time you post anything, someone somewhere has a correction or complaint about it. I understand now that this is simply a part of the process, and I accept it. It took me a long time.
People always try to correct me, telling me what to write and how to feel. It happens so often that it feels comfortable. I hardly ever get corrections from regular readers, just about everyone else.
I’ve had corrections from as far away as Singapore, Mexico, Australia, Poland, England, Ireland, and Iceland. I’m famous for my real and alleged mistakes, if nothing else.
I do make mistakes; I write a lot daily, and I am my own editor; God help us. Early on, I decided to spend my time writing, not re-writing. I even bought a hot proofreading software to limit typos. It is worse than I am. I get to defend not only my mistakes but also presumptuous software.
Today’s “correction” was exciting and got me thinking, as often happens. Are my photos of Maria “still lifes” or “portraits?”
The latest squawk came from Donald Ramsey, a social media corrector. You can tell the correctors from the complainers because they never comment on the post or the photo; they offer a correction and move on and are never heard from again.
Sometimes, they are correct, but most often, they are not. I can’t take strangers on social media corrections too seriously. I always wonder if they have anything else to do. Clearly not.
Mr Ramsey raised one of those teacher, academic, and busybody corrections yesterday after I posted a shot of Maria sitting in her chair blogging. ( below). I called it a still life. It was a groundbreaking photograph for me; it wasn’t about Maria but what Maria stands for.
Donald said I made a mistake: “That’s not a still life,” he wrote, “a still life is always an arrangement of objects. It’s a portrait.” This was not a thought or question but an absolute statement of fact.
Like many correctors, his message was brief and bloodless.
It is an interesting observation, given that it’s wrong, as amateur correctors (and Dyslexic writers) often are.
Now that my photography is verging on art, I should look into it. I love the picture, and I am expanding my idea of what a still-life picture is. It isn’t just a bowl of fruit for me.
I think of some of my pictures as photo paintings, a mix of styles. Three people messaged me to say the photograph reminded them of a Vermeer painting. He died in 1675. I love those kinds of messages.
I often urge people to start their blogs and be authentic. But I also tell them to be prepared to define themselves and their identity and be willing to fight for it. A lot of people are out there hoping to take it away. Writing online has given me an elephant’s hide, my thin skin is getting armor.
My truth is more straightforward than Mr. Ramsey’s: no one word covers any form of art all the time. Every artist I know has ideas of what they hope to do. Each one is different.
It is not for me to dictate such labels to them; I am hardly humble or shy, but I don’t have the arrogance to do that. They get to do that.
(Above, I call it a “Still Life.”)
My pictures of Maria – “the Blogger series” – are not generally a still life. Or is it? Well, it depends. Donald is black and white in his view, but the artist world is more nuanced than that.
I like Wikipedia’s definition: “A still life is a work of art depicting mostly inanimate subject matter, typically commonplace objects which are either natural or human-made. Wikipedia”
The keywords for me are “mostly inanimate,” and “symbol.”
The still-life genre has remained popular due to its freedom of experimentation; it allows artists to explore different techniques, styles, and themes. There are four main types of still-life art: Flower Pieces, Banquet or Breakfast Pieces, Animal Pieces, and Symbolic Paintings.
Keywords: “explore..styles and themes.”
A still life is often (at least traditionally) an inanimate object, although some still lifes can be portraits ( Vermeer), and some are still lives (Vermeer).
It depends on what the artist is thinking and feeling when the image is created. There was no photography when Vermeer painted, yet he has inspired several of my photos – the one of Maria in particular. Out of curiousity, I wonder if anyone wrote him to tell him his definition of his work was wrong.
This doesn’t mean I’m comparing myself to him.
But Maria’s pictures are symbols to me – of love, art, and Maria’s remarkable gift of concentration and self. Sitting and blogging in her chair, she seems iconic, timeless, and bigger than life: a presence, not just any person. Not just Maria. Her face and body are full of emotion; she is wonderfully expressive.
(Above, Johannes Vermeer, “The Milkmaid.”)
The photo I posted of her today is not a still life; it’s a portrait. She is turning to the camera, and very much in motion, very different than the shot of her blogging. Her face says it all. You can’t really see her face in the other picture.
I can’t imagine sending a message to any artist like Mr. Ramsey sent to me; I have no right to do that, and art, for me, is not about what teachers teach but what I feel and see. All of my photography is personal and usually emotional. It’s about freedom. If I told Maria her quilts were not fiber art or true quilts, I would lose some teeth.
Art has changed radically recently; the old dogma and assumptions are up for grabs. It’s the essence of old fartism to look at a creation and insist on what the artist must call it.
Creativity and change are critical elements of my idea of art.
So the point is that my portrait of Maria yesterday is a “still life” for me, and who matters here? Me or Mr. Ramsey. Maria, an artist, gets a vote, and she says it is a still life as I want it to be and sees it that way.
Writing openly and honestly on the Internet is a challenge; it makes one a target for people worldwide. This is a new reality for people who wish to create freely and openly. I’m not going anywhere, not yet.
I’m learning to think rather than snarl. It feels better.
Counting Facebook, billions of people might see one of my blog posts at any given time. I have yet to learn who most are, and most have no idea who I am. I admit it is fascinating to come to terms with this new reality. Correctors, like trolls, are everywhere in every culture. It is a part of being human.
For most of human history, it was not possible to talk to strangers across the oceans. Now it’s impossible to shut people up. History will have to tell us if this is a good or bad thing.
The challenge is for a writer or artist to create their own identity, stick to it, and defend it. This has undoubtedly been good for me because, before social media, I didn’t know who I was or wanted to be.
That’s no longer a problem for me; thanks to messages I get daily from people like Mr. Ramsey, I know exactly who I am.
