October 26, 2009 – Maria is busy these days, holed up in the Studio Barn like an elf, cranking out potholders for the Christmas Season. They are $9 and some people are buying bunches for Christmas presents. I would not have thought of a potholder for Christmas, but it makes sense. Small works of art that are useful and inexpensive. I love taking photos of the potholders, as I did the Daily Egg when chickens were here. I like placing them out of context and seeing them as individualistic portraits. In this case I tossed the new potholder onto some leaves in a tree.
  I suspect this is the future of art, or least some elements of art. Art is generally an elitist culture, I think, controlled by critics and academics, expensive and out of reach for most people. These days, creative people are rethinking how they make things, and asking themselves what’s important. Like getting your stuff out there, being mindful of people’s budgets, and being creative about change. I was in an art gallery recently, and the owner was lamenting the hard times and saying he couldn’t wait to close. I looked on the walls and saw $2,000 photographs and $8,000 paintings.
  What is he thinking? He will be out of business soon.
  Change is difficult for most people, especially those who see themselves as artists. But change is also exciting. Maria was wary of the potholders – she is a quilter – but then excited about here art making its way out into the world, and having so many people appreciate it. As a writer and photographer, I have strong feelings about the marketplace. You can’t let it overwhelm you, but you can’t hide from it either. That’s why I use e-mail, Facebook, Twitter, readings and tours and any other elements I can to connect with readers and understand them.
  I see the marketplace as my friend, up to a point. The point is different for everyone. The potholders are a testament to the place of art in our lives, and the challenge to artists in our time.

  Lenore loves to go take photos with me, and I love having her. Lately, we are catching the sun every morning, as it breaks over the Green Hills of Vermont. Lenore, like my other dogs, grasps the serious nature of this work and stares at the view, just like I do. She sits quietly and patiently while I fuss around with the camera and settings. She is the Love Dog.