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AFTER I was married and started raising 2 boys (really 3 counting my husband)
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A very famous potter/sculptor here in Taiwan, named Ah Leon, was recently giving a slide presentation at my son's school, and a photo came up of him at his potter's wheel, elbow deep in a clay vase, with two kids and a woman seated nearby. The artist said of the photo, "My wife has three children . . . of which I am the oldest."
My daughter just sent me an e-mail from DisneyWorld, saying that she was having fun while trying as well to conduct herself in a well-mannered way but, she said, "It's hard when your dad is Goofy."
Perhaps this is a more common perception amongst wives and daughters than I had been aware.
Stanka, I've never told a single person about the gallerys' commission on artwork without inducing something between cardiac arrest and militant outrage. Nobody can believe it. That being said, most galleries have to pay substantial rents in high-visibility locations and original works of art don't go out the door very often, so the padding's got to be sewn in somewhere. (I'm actually more unhappy about a Realtor's taking 7% of the value of my house.) Still . . . when I see a gallery piece that I really like, my mental churn goes something like, "I'd pay $1,000 to the artist for that, but no way am I going to pay the gallery another $1,000." If a gallery is moving your work, that's great, but you do get yourself into a painted corner, because once you've accepted representation, you have an obligation (ethical and probably legal, depending on the agreement) not to undercut the gallery by selling your work on the side for your "discount" price.
It's a sticky wicket. I'd try to unstick it, but my son's got this really cool Nintendo game on the other monitor . . .
A guy who just wants to have fun,
Steven