#it's not the ceiling of the sistine chapel but I'm only learning | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bwwhitney · 1 year

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What I learned from my first gallery exhibition

There is a lot of hard work involved.

You can't make real money selling your photos if you have to pay other people to print and mount your work. (Or at least I can't.)

*See below

I knew going in that there was going to be a lot of work involved. I have known artists over the years who tried to make a living from their art, and only a couple of those people could actually do it. No matter how hard they worked at their art job: making art, marketing the art, going to art fairs, gallery exhibitions etc, most needed "real" jobs to make ends meet.

From the beginning, I looked at this whole endeavor as a learning experience and therefore I did not expect to make a profit. Since this was my first exhibition and I was unknown, it was suggested that I keep prices "low" in order to have a better chance to sell some prints. Accordingly, the pricing ran from $25 for an 8x10" up to $150 for 20x30". At those prices I knew the only way I was going to have a chance of breaking even was to sell out, or to sell multiple copies. Well, I did sell multiple copies of a number of prints, including 5 of the big ones, but I didn't sell out. So far I've sold a total of 24 prints and it cost me about $950 to do so.

Was it worth it?

Yes, absolutely.

The gallery is attached to a not-for-profit art center that does wonderful things for the community, so the commissions they earned from the sales of my prints will be put to good use. I'm very happy to have made a contribution to their cause.

Though I'm not sure it was worth $950, the thrill of walking into the gallery and seeing 42 of my photos hanging on the walls was definitely worth something. *And now I know, that filling the gallery with 42 photos was exactly why I was never going to break even, let alone make a profit. Even Michelangelo would never have been able to fill the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel with frescoes if he had to finance it all by himself, he was using the Pope's money. I on the other hand was entirely on my own. Next time I will be smarter about that.

The people who came in, many of them friends and family but some complete strangers, were all wonderful to talk to and overall I had a great experience. For those of you thinking to yourselves: What do you mean you had a great experience, the title of your blog is Photos Without People? Just because I don't like to take pictures of people doesn't mean I don't like people. (Well, actually it does, but you can't help liking people who are saying nice things about your photos ;-)

Would I do it again?

Probably.

I'm in the process of setting up shop on SquareSpace, and I plan to seek out more galleries to try. I'm also going to submit two of the in-camera double exposures that people seemed to like to a exhibition coming up in May.

I could not have done this without the help of my family and of course my friends here. Overall Tumblr is fucked up, but our little corner is is just fine.

Thank you / merći @sharonbphotos @yesyoubelonghere @lindenardenshighlights @mariophotographies @photographybyamyjennings @trishamaeva @jbearphotos for your kind comments on my previous post and for your support. Thanks also to @allthingsfern and the folks over at @photosworthseeing

Cheers

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softantigone · 8 months

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Things That I Am Which You'll Never Find Out (Because You Left Too Soon): 1) A tulip festival in a Maxi dress, laughing like I'm teething Spring. Undressing me is like watching Japanese Cherry Blossoms lit by paper lanterns. You say you hate flowers because they die.

2) The Sistine Chapel lucid dreaming in the early hours of dawn. When I yawn, Moses splits the Red Sea for the Israelites. You never liked ceilings because they didn't let you see the sky.

3) The horizon kayaking off the coast of an orange sky. I was born with rainclouds under my fingernails. I held onto you because you felt like a parachute. You say I'm the biggest hole in the Ozone layer.

4) A night safari in her mother's sari. You said wild things looked misplaced in tradition. So I parted my hair in the centre and tried to tame the mane that always looked like a maze. But how do you slice a volcano in two? How does an equator learn to stop being opposite poles?

5) The Grand Canyon resting on a hammock, drinking Coca-Cola. You hated soda digging into your waistline. If you're on a diet, stop calling me at twelve, saying you're hungry. I don't feed mixed signals anymore.

6) A heartbreak poem. The war, the warrior. The army, the body count. The rubble, the rebuilding.The lover, the cynic. Scratch marks inside gas chambers trying to escape Auschwitz. A soldier playing Beethoven in the battlefield. The Soviet flag dancing in the wind over the ruins of Berlin. I am all of that and MORE. YOU THINK YOU GET TO WALK AWAY?

ONE DAY YOUR MOTHER WILL WARN YOU ABOUT THINGS THAT KNOW HOW BEAUTIFUL THEY ARE. THINGS THAT DON'T STARE AT THEIR FEET. THINGS THAT ARE UNASHAMED AND PROUD. YOU WILL BE ON YOUR FEET RUNNING TOWARDS ME, BUT YOU'LL BE TOO LATE.

I am tide. I am fire whirl.

I am used to men calling me beautiful

after they have destroyed me.

Used to men returning

for the poetry

as if it is theirs to take.

Used to mothers

begging their sons

to leave me

because there are things

only women know

when they look into my eyes.

I learned that kissing was a survival instinct when I was dying.

You will stand under the sun

like your skin can't forget the taste of me.

Tell them. Tell them now. My mouth is a fever.

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obstinatecondolement · 4 years

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Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!

#so I thought I'd try to do makeup in a way that was more fun (for me)#art's face #it's not the ceiling of the sistine chapel but I'm only learning

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moogieandadhd · 2 years

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did i bother you? - A Personal Note on ADHD and Communication, and How Our Neurotypical Loved Ones Can Better Support Us

if you're diagnosed with ADD or ADHD, you've probably been told at least 85,000 times that you need to "quiet down" when you're talking. or have been shot dirty looks when you finish a sentence for someone because you know where it was going and they are talking entirely too slow and you need this conversation to move just a little bit faster. maybe you've been told that you're annoying and you talk too much or post too much on social media. being asked to "pay more attention" when you have been this entire time, but playing with the strings on your hoodie and not making eye contact the entire time somehow means that you aren't a good listener.

sound familiar?

now, before i continue, that's not to say that we can't absolutely be rude and come across as poor listeners. that can be true. having ADHD isn't an excuse for acting like a dickwad, but it can be the driving reason we tend to speak as soon as a thought is formed.

i've found that in my friendships with other ADHDers, we interrupt each other and talk about 60 different subjects in the span of 15 minutes (exaggeration, but the point still stands). but it isn't always taken as rude. there is a subconscious level of understanding that we need to say it as soon as it comes, otherwise we will spend 3 hours trying to remember what that one thought was that we were going to say...

(this is reflected heavily in my writing, i think. i don't brainstorm and map and plan. i proofread when i have the spoons to do so, but most of the time i'm just raw-dogging my think-pieces as a true ADHDer should.)

within my neurotypical relationships, i noticed that this isn't so well-received. sure, maybe at first it's seen as cute or quirky and makes me seem outgoing and can even point to the fact that i was really listening to the conversation and i'm motivated to have that conversation - but after a while that novelty wears off and it almost inevitably becomes a hinderance.

if you're an ADHDer reading this post looking for verbiage to use to explain this phenomenon to your NT besties, or if you're a neurotypical with a loved one who has ADHD and you're here to try to support them, let's explain what happens in these instances.

pretend we are having a conversation. i'm the neurotypical, you are the neurodivergent. i bring up something that you're really interested in - let's say your current hyperfixation is painting and art in general. i say something like, "i went to the Louvre a few years ago. i saw the Mona Lisa. i thought it would be bigger!" then, to you as the ADHDer, are set off. you were just reading about this topic last night. you know so many facts about this painting. you know so many facts about DaVinci. in fact, you're wearing a t-shirt with the Vitruvian Man on it right now! so you tell me some facts. i listen and respond with, "wow, that's interesting, i never knew-" and you know that what you had just told me was not a well-known fact, so you interject "yeah, not many people know that. it's all good. hey, did you know...." and you continue with another topic, slightly related. this time it's a fact about Michelangelo. oh, i know a little something about that guy! "isn't he the one who painted the ceiling of... oh, what was the name-" "the Sistine Chapel!"

now, to you, this is just a subject that you are so in love with right now. you could talk about it all day. you love those dead guys. you just wanna share all that you know with me, as someone who only knows a normal, casual amount about those European artists. you may even have spoken a bit louder because you were just so excited to talk about something that you actually like! get those dopamine receptors working!

i just briefly mentioned the Mona Lisa in passing. i didn't know you were so into art! it's cool, but you definitely talked about it a lot. i could barely say what i was thinking, and much less at a normal pace. all the information that i learned at rapidfire, whew. i wish i could have mentioned something, but you were just going off there. so i just let you speak. i was a little annoyed, actually. did you wanna have an actual conversation or do you just like the sound of your own voice? jeez. it's just art.

end roleplay. spoiler alert: it's usually a regular thing. that was basically a long winded way of getting ND and NT folks to understand each other a little better.

now, some ADHDers prefer to keep our motormouths confined to our thoughts and just deal with the thousands of overlapping voices and images. so we aren't all loud and obvious. but many of us do love to talk and forget that there are unspoken rules that we have to wait our turn. we do get so excited to speak, especially because we oftentimes do have a file cabinet of thoughts on that subject just dying to be bursted open and flung out.

i find that doing a self-check in when talking to my non-ADHD friends is super helpful. after all, we can't always expect people to do the work for us. when we feel that slight pang of insecurity when people look uninterested or bored with the conversation, that's a good time to reel it in and ask "i'm so sorry, i didn't mean to talk over you/interrupt/go off like that/etc. did i make you feel unheard/unimportant/etc?" and that opens a safe space for reconciliation. now, if you ask this, you do have to be prepared for someone at some point responding with "yes, when you interrupted me, i felt like you didn't care what i was saying."

the first time i was told that, RSD took over a bit and i took that like a punch in the gut. but i managed to take a breath and i thought to myself all the times i felt unheard and if i was in their shoes, i'd be pissed too.

that's when you, as the ADHDer, actually stfu. i'm not kidding, literally bite your tongue or chew on something or whatever if it's hard for you. but you have to let the other person speak and wait for them to finish. i've learned that not every pause between sentences is the other party being done with their thought - speaking at 3 million words per minute isn't standard.

and NTs - don't be afraid to tell your ADHD friend "hey man, i understand that you're excited/passionate/want me to speak a little faster, but i would appreciate it if you didn't interrupt me as often." and if your ADHD friend has RSD (rejection sensitive dysphoria), you can follow that up with "i love you and i wanna hear what you have to say - just slow down a little for a sec, i wanna talk to you also!" or, yanno, something along those lines. i just find that providing scripts helps us sort through our messes of brains and thought patterns.

again: keep in mind this shit takes PRACTICE and PATIENCE. it won't happen and magically be fixed overnight. after all, ADHD cannot be cured overnight either. that's not how it works. however, we as ADHDers need to be proactive with making other people comfortable and aware (within reasonable means. don't be a doormat) while also holding ourselves accountable when we let our ADHD drive the bus.

neurotypicals, the same goes for you - be understanding, give your ADHD buddy a safe space, but you can be heard too. everyone is allowed to have healthy boundaries; they just look a little bit different depending on how your brain works.

anyway, if i write anymore, i'll get carpal tunnel. you guys get the point.

(and thanks so much for all of the love on my last post - i was pretty nervous to post that but the feedback was overwhelmingly positive. thank you so much. love u guys.)

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hamzahiznog0ud · 4 years

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"So if I asked you about art, you'd probably give me the skinny on every art book ever written. Michelangelo, you know a lot about him. Life's work, political aspirations, him and the pope, sexual orientations, the whole works, right? But I'll bet you can't tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You've never actually stood there and looked up at that beautiful ceiling; seen that. If I ask you about women, you'd probably give me a syllabus about your personal favorites. You may have even been laid a few times. But you can't tell me what it feels like to wake up next to a woman and feel truly happy. You're a tough kid. And I'd ask you about war, you'd probably throw Shakespeare at me, right, "once more unto the breach dear friends." But you've never been near one. You've never held your best friend's head in your lap, watch him gasp his last breath looking to you for help. I'd ask you about love, you'd probably quote me a sonnet. But you've never looked at a woman and been totally vulnerable. Known someone that could level you with her eyes, feeling like God put an angel on earth just for you. Who could rescue you from the depths of hell. And you wouldn't know what it's like to be her angel, to have that love for her, be there forever, through anything, through cancer. And you wouldn't know about sleeping sitting up in the hospital room for two months, holding her hand, because the doctors could see in your eyes, that the terms "visiting hours" don't apply to you. You don't know about real loss, 'cause it only occurs when you've loved something more than you love yourself. And I doubt you've ever dared to love anybody that much. And look at you... I don't see an intelligent, confident man... I see a cocky, scared shitless kid. But you're a genius Will. No one denies that. No one could possibly understand the depths of you. But you presume to know everything about me because you saw a painting of mine, and you ripped my f*cing life apart. You're an orphan right? (Will nods) You think I know the first thing about how hard your life has been, how you feel, who you are, because I read Oliver Twist? Does that encapsulate you? Personally... I don't give a sh*t about all that, because you know what, I can't learn anything from you, I can't read in some f*ckin' book. Unless you want to talk about you, who you are. Then I'm fascinated. I'm in. But you don't want to do that do you sport? You're terrified of what you might say. Your move, chief!"

- Good Will Hunting ❤️

#good will hunting #robin williams

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ironwoman18 · 4 years

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The Worst Third Date Ever part 28

Chapter 28: Sancta Sedes

The next morning Max woke up first, she took a shower and posted some of her pictures on her social networks.

She smiled at some of them, they asked some people to take them photos, but she also took some of Spencer and he also took some of her.

The gorgeous views of the Roman Forum or the hill were breathtaking and the Coliseum made you wonder who that huge place could be built before the twenty and twenty-first century.

She decided to give her husband a present and booked an helicopter travel to Pompeii. And after that she closed the page so he could not find out.

She kept posting photos until he woke up, after a kiss she sent him to take a shower so they could eat their breakfast and took the bus to the Vatican City.

An hour later they were at the entrance of the Vatican City, the guide explained what they will do and the rules. They could not wear sleeveless shirts and shorts, no hats, no pets or weapons.

The tour started as they walked through the Gallery of the Maps and Gallery of Tapestries while their guide told tales of Vatican intrigue.

They gazed at artifacts such as timeworn yet fascinating Italian maps, and admire the sculptures and candelabras of the Gallery of Candelabras.

The guide let them stop for photos in front of the Pigna statue in the Pinecone Courtyard, designed by Donato Bramante.

Max was like a kid at Christmas morning watching and taking photos at everything in Raphael’s Rooms, which are a series of galleries that highlight the talent of the lauded Renaissance artist himself.

They continued to pass through the rooms, and then step inside the Sistine Chapel—the pope’s personal place of worship and a highlight of any Vatican trip.

All of them were in awe as the stood beneath Michelangelo’s 'The Creation of Adam,' which cloaks the ceiling, and admire 'The Last Judgement,' his colorful mural that adorns a wall.

"Oh my God... it looks like it was just painted this morning" said Max as she took some pictures of it "this photos are nothing compared to see it in real life"

"I'm totally agree with you" Spencer said looking at the paintings above "did you know that Michaelangelo painted himself in this? He painted himself as a person in hell because he was gay but very religious so he died believing he would go to hell due to this"

"Yeah I'm not surprise at all" she said holding his arm "the people back them were very religious"

The tour continued to St. Peter’s Basilica, the symbolic heart of the Catholic church.

"Ok guys come over here" said their guide "today is Wednesday and normally we can't got to the Basilica or the St. Peter's Square but, the Pope canceled the audiences for today so we can go in. This is an exceptional opportunity for you and you are lucky. Let go"

As they walked through it the learned about its history and see more Vatican art including Michelangelo’s 'La Pietà,' which was sculpted when the maestro was only 24 years old.

They gazed at the Baldacchino by Bernini, Max continued taking photos of everything they saw.

Three hours later they said goodbye to their guide in St. Peter’s Square. This tour was breathtaking and Max was almost in tears after witness the art of Raphael, Michelangelo and more amazing artist she learned in the university.

"This was amazing. I enjoyed every bit of this tour" said Max as she checked the photos again after they ordered some coffee and biscotti "and the photos don't express the feelings of watching it in situ"

"Yeah I never thought something about religion could move me so much. The Creation of Adam was something else" commented Spencer after drinking coffee "and La Pietà looked so smooth that you couldn't believe it was stone"

She nodded and ate some biscotti with her coffee "I loved this so much" she sighed looking at him "what else can we do today after this breathtaking morning?"

He got out of his messenger bag a brochure and looked in "well we could go to The Borghese Gallery, they have a littler collection than the Vatican but they also have paintings I'm sure you will love" he smiled at her.

"Sounds like a date" she smirks and leans in to kissed him.

"It surely is a date" he laughed "then we can eat some typical Italian food in a typical house"

"I would like it" she finished her coffee and biscotti.

Then they went to the Galler by taxi. The place was in park and close from there was the Galleria Nazionale d'Arte Moderna e Contemporanea and the National Etruscan Museum.

They spent the rest of the day checking the museums. Max talked nonstop about the art in there. Spencer, of course, gave some facts but that was Max's day.

Both had a great day and when they arrived to the museum they ate at their room because they decided to just cuddle in bed and have some alone time.

"I think tomorrow we should stay here in the hotel and then we could keep checking the city on Friday" she was laying her head on his chest and when he said so he looked down at her.

"I'm agree, beside I have something planned for us this Friday"

"What is it?" He was curious about it.

"You will see it on Friday Dr. Reid" she teased him.

"Oh really Mrs. Reid?" She nodded and lifted her head up to kissed his chin.

"Yes and I'm sure you will love it" she played back again on his chest.

"Well I can't wait to see it" he kissed her head "but I'm sure it will he great".

OOooOOooOO

I am happy this chapter was easier to write than the last one. I definitely need to keep my mind working on this story.

Some things Max and Spencer commented in the Vatican were based on my mom's experience there. I made my research about names and what was in there.

Also I would like to let you know that this story will have a few more chapters and then I will end it.

I already have the perfect ending for this story.

The next chapter will be their day in the hotel and I think I will include Pompeii visit.

Hope you liked it. And I appreciate that you took time of your day reading this and also if you comment... I love you 3000. Read you later.

https://ironwoman18.tumblr.com/post/616160254653284352

#criminal mind #spencer reid #maxine brenner #maxcer #fanfiction

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bookcrazyquotegirl · 7 years

Conversation

Sean: Thought about what you said to me the other day, about my painting. Stayed up half the night thinking about it. Something occurred to me... fell into a deep peaceful sleep, and haven't thought about you since. Do you know what occurred to me?

Will: No.

Sean: You're just a kid, you don't have the faintest idea what you're talking about.

Will: Why thank you.

Sean: It's all right. You've never been out of Boston.

Will: Nope.

Sean: So if I asked you about art, you'd probably give me the skinny on every art book ever written. Michelangelo, you know a lot about him. Life's work, political aspirations, him and the Pope, sexual orientations, the whole works right? But I'll bet you can't tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You've never actually stood there and looked up at that beautiful ceiling; seen that. If I ask you about women, you'd probably give me a syllabus about your personal favorites. You may have even been laid a few times. But you can't tell me what it feels like to wake up next to a woman and feel truly happy. You're a tough kid. And I'd ask you about war, you'd probably throw Shakespeare at me, right, 'Once more unto the breach dear friends.' But you've never been near one. You've never held your best friend's head in your lap, watch him gasp his last breath looking to you for help. I'd ask you about love, you'd probably quote me a sonnet. But you've never looked at a woman and been totally vulnerable. Known someone that could level you with her eyes, feeling like God put an angel on earth just for you. Who could rescue you from the depths of hell. And you wouldn't know what it's like to be her angel, to have that love for her, be there forever, through anything, through cancer. And you wouldn't know about sleeping sitting up in the hospital room for two months, holding her hand, because the doctors could see in your eyes, that the terms 'visiting hours' don't apply to you. You don't know about real loss, cause it only occurs when you've loved something more than you love yourself. And I doubt you've ever dared to love anybody that much. And look at you... I don't see an intelligent, confident man... I see a cocky, scared shitless kid. But you're a genius Will. No one denies that. No one could possibly understand the depths of you. But you presume to know everything about me because you saw a painting of mine, and you ripped my fucking life apart. You're an orphan right? You think I know the first thing about how hard your life has been, how you feel, who you are, because I read Oliver Twist? Does that encapsulate you? Personally... I don't give a shit about all that, because you know what, I can't learn anything from you, I can't read in some fucking book. Unless you want to talk about you, who you are. Then I'm fascinated. I'm in. But you don't want to do that do you sport? You're terrified of what you might say. Your move, chief.

#quotes #robin williams #good will hunting

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