"My aunt wrote a book too." He said.

In the beginning of my art career, www.VanVleckStudio.com, I paid my dues by doing art fairs. They seemed like a fun thing to do, to a lot of people, when someone else is doing them. Trust me though, they are a ton of hot, dirty work.

Nothing is so miserable as sitting in downtown Chicago, in August heat, on asphalt with cars zooming by, even with your fancy expensive, scissor fold up, tent. Then, there is the answering of the same set of questions you answered at the art fair last weekend:

“How long did it take you to paint this painting?”
They are trying to figure out how much you make an hour, considering you are asking $1,200 for the painting they are looking at. I could clue them in that I had hash marks on the stretcher bars of some of these paintings, to help figure up what I should charge. But, that was just one factor in pricing.

They did not ask how much the supplies cost, the hours it took me to photograph people, the money the film cost (before digital folks) and the number of frames I have put on it since I have had to take the thing to art fairs, which have a virus that eats frames.

They did not ask about the fact that you might sell one $300 painting this weekend when you paid $350 just to sit on the asphalt for twenty hours, set up for four hours and drive for countless hours.

The correct answer is: “forty-six years” or however many fingers you are that year, as every experience of your life, every art book you read, every teacher you studied with and every painting you paint has contributed to that very painting. And, we’re not even including the cost of that education either.

The other correct answer is: "I paint every day from ten a.m. to ten p.m. and I do paperwork, to market my art from eight a.m. to ten a.m. and, since I may have three paintings in process at any one time, it's hard to say."

There is also the dreaded, “What does this mean?”
“Ah, it’s a woman playing her guitar, with her cat watching and sunlight streaming in the window. I painted it because I love to paint sunlight streaming in the window and shadows.”

The correct answer is: “This woman is playing to ease the pain in her soul as her lover has passed away. The cat is included as a representation of the number of lives he used up with alcohol, jail time and affairs. The light is streaming to represent his salvation and the shadows are the possibilities that await us if we do not mend our ways.”

At this point, they walk away happy that they have made you work for your money and you feel happy that the student loan, from the prestigious art school is not money wasted, because if you learned nothing else at the school, you learned to tell a good story.

And, finally, my personal favorite.“My aunt paints portraits too.”
Whereupon they pull out their wallet and show me the painting their eight year old aunt did. She had to be eight because, I’m sorry (And I know they love her and are proud of it) but it sucks. It always sucks. I think maybe once in fifteen years, I was wowed by one of these photographs.

But, I always smile and say, “How nice.” and that is the correct answer.

To wit: I end up with very sore cheeks, both sets, after sitting at an art fair.

People tend to have many misconceptions about art; whether it is music, painting or writing. They always want that fairy to come along, with that magic wand, and twang. They can write a symphony, paint a million dollar painting or write a New York Times bestseller. They don’t want to pay their dues.

They think that J.K. Rowling just sat down in a café one day and wrote all those multi-million dollar books. Probably each one took a week, right?They ignore the fact that she worked on it for years before she even began writing the story itself and she has enough notes to literally cover her front room floor. And, that she has written stories since she was a kid.

So, whether you are a painter, or a musician, or a writer, you have to practice your scales until the day comes when people will come up to you and say, “My aunt wrote a book too.”