Changing Perspective

Several years ago my mom got a print of the painting Christina's World by Andrew Wyeth and gave it to Shannon for her apartment. I really liked it, and in a yard-sale gift from the universe, my mom found another framed print of it and gave it to me. I'm not sure exactly how, but Leiah also ended up with the print.
Christina's World is like an artwork thread that keeps us all connected. I can't help but think of my mom and my sisters when I look at it, but I also like it because it reminds me of being at my Grandma Scott's house growing up, looking back at her farmhouse from the distance, a tether to safety. In the suburbs you couldn't get too far away without losing sight of your home base, but in the country, especially the flat fields that make up the country in Indiana, you can wander far away and still feel like you're in the front yard. Leiah said it reminds her of the times we used spend afternoons laying in corn fields trying to trick the buzzards into circling us, being out in the middle of nowhere, trying to maintain the same stillness that Christina mastered for the painting.

Turns out, we're both clueless.

Dr. Mack came home the other day and schooled me on the painting. Apparently, as his teacher told it and as I later confirmed on Wikipedia, Christina is not looking back on her home in quiet reflection. She has not tried to run away and is lurking on the perimeter to see if anyone notices. She is not trying to trick the buzzards.

She is paralyzed on the lower half of her body due to an undiagnosed muscular deterioration and she is dragging herself across the field to get home. Because that's how she gets around. By dragging herself.

Wyeth, whose summer home was across the field from the house you see in the painting, was friendly with the real life Christina and her brother and used them as inspiration for many paintings.

It's kind of cool to know the truth behind the painting, the one that hangs in our bedroom, but it's also kind of a bummer. I mean, the fact that it has a twisted secret matches our artwork tendencies pretty well -- I was recently told some of my favorite pieces are "morose" and "bleak" -- but I actually liked that it wasn't as cryptic as my other stuff.

For instance, Christina's World does not have a single stick figure in it, something Mack claims is in most of the artwork I buy. And it's of a girl who has clothes on. And there's no blood or obvious anguish. And there is a natural space just waiting to be planted with thoughts. And it, technically, could qualify as a landscape, and I actually don't like landscapes in art all that much (I much prefer the real things).

But I guess it's just not meant to be. If something really was all sunshine and rainbows, I probably wouldn't like it. Unless it was an UMBRELLA.

Articles

When we moved from Kentucky to California, there were two collections I just could not bare to pare down.

My books and my artwork.

I don't own anything worth anything in the way of artwork, but I do have things that I love, things that hang on the wall and remind me of people I love, experiences I've had, places I've visited. Some of them are beautiful, some of them are scary, and some of them have penises. If you really want to get to know your guests quickly, hang a penis in your kitchen.

The most I've ever paid for a piece of artwork is $350, which I paid to the artist Bill Santen in three installments because I didn't (and still don't) have hundreds of dollars waiting to be plopped down on a piece of art. I like dingy art, stuff that is imperfect and dusty and could cut your fingers if not handled properly, and I prefer knowing the artist I buy art from -- maybe not personally but at least knowing something interesting about the person. All this is to say my art needs to have a soul behind it and not be more than my rent.

With the rebirth of DIY screenprinting and the launch of Etsy.com, affordable art is more accessible than it's ever been. And because it can be hard to choose art -- and because buyer's remorse can sting if you've paid a couple hundred bucks for a penis that you end up not really liking -- here are some places you can go to make that place over the mantle a little less Garden Ridge.

20X200 -- I just found out about this site, but I love it. Artist Jen Bekman is offering 200 pieces of art from different artists for $20. Every Tuesday and Wednesday a new piece is offered up. So you've got PostSecret on Monday, 20x200 on Tuesday and Wednesday, and now I just need some Thursday and Friday highlights.

Kids at Play, Dusk, Kashgar, by Raul Gutierrez

Cricket Press -- a husband and wife screenprinting enterprise in Lexington. I worked at the dollar movies with the wife, Sara, when she was in high school and she was basically who I wanted to be. We reconnected in photography at UK, where she'd evolved her awesomeness. I've bought prints from them for Jen and Betsy as gifts, and have a few of their originals in my own collection. If you live in Lexington and have seen really awesome band posters, these are probably the brains behind them.

The Red Dress, by Sara Turner

Decor8 Blog -- with the tagline "fresh finds for hip places," this blog is more like a Real Simple pleasure than an online art collective, but they do find some pretty amazing artwork sometimes that will definitely jazz up your pad. And be by relative unknowns with brilliance and a believable price tag. They also have Etsy Take 5 Tuesdays, where they turn you onto Etsy artists you are probably totally unaware of.

Carrousel by Irene Suchocki

UGallery -- when an art student graduates from college, where do they go? to work as bank tellers, nannies, junior editors. and that's just sad. At UGallery, you can shop for work by emerging artists, most of whom are recent college graduates, based on pricetag, color, or style. And if you find someone you like, you can actually follow their career, much like you would a band or actor or... your stocks.

Hundreds of Years Ago, By Maryam Gaber, School of the Art Institute of Chicago