I find myself wondering why it is hard to give myself permission to fail at something new. I totally get that y’all are tired of hearing me talk about my journey and finding new ways of making art. I get it. But to be truthful, I need to work through all this change, so if you are game, lend me your ears and some words of advice if you have some. 

My struggle lies in this new need I have to make marks, my own marks, straight from my heart without using my usual tool, a camera. I have always used a camera to record my ideas, feelings, and vision. It has served me well, it is all I have known. I have a lifetime of negatives to print. The lifetime part is a key to all of this, I am beginning to think.  For those of you who have followed, and maybe participated in my birthday sales, I am getting older, and I have lots I still want to explore.

Let me cut to the chase. I have fallen in love with copperplate etchings and the process of making them.  The rub for me lies in the notion that I need to make drawings to be printed in said process. To be clear, I have not made many drawings in the past, but I can draw. We all can, I am sure of it. The irony for me, and the crux of my problem, is that while I have no issues with making 50-hundred-million bad photographs to get one good one, I cannot seem to give myself permission to do the same with drawing. It is almost funny to me. As a film photographer, each picture I make costs money, yet I make them.  The drawings are comparatively free of material cost, but I find myself creating busy work so as not to work on the drawings that I so desperately want to make.

You all are my community: collectors, students, friends, and colleagues. I value your support and, for sure, your thoughts. Tell me how you approach the idea of giving yourselves permission to make your art. 

With gratitude,

Ray