Okay. I'll get this out of the way right now: there is no secret.

That's the secret, and the sooner one realizes this and comes to accept it, the more one can save money and time by not buying the books and the DVDs and the seminar tickets and the hourly consultation.

That time can be spent on writing and working and contacting people and improving one's product and researching and brainstorming and studying -- it all adds up to hard work and perseverence, and, if one insists upon having a secret, then that is it.

We have a friend who builds websites for businesses, and many of his clients have this mistaken notion that one of his services is catapulting the website to the top of the search engines by the use of secret tag words and specialty codes.

Granted, the geeky gurus do know some of these and embed them in their website packages, but no geek is an island, and if one knows the words to say, it won't be long before others figure them out as well.

"Well, can't you just write stuff and get my web page near the top?" one client demanded of him.

"If you want to pay me to do so, you can," he replied. "It would be cheaper for you to do that yourself."

"But it's so much work!" she wailed.

A good lesson to learn, early.

Of course, on any path, there are always short cuts, and we have observed people successfully cresting the top of the hill by scheming their way there; one writer I know "markets" her books by visiting various blogs and leaving comments like, "nice," "I agree," or sometimes just her website address. A good spam filter tosses these right where they belong.

While there is nothing wrong about analyzing the clientale base and marketing to its unique needs and interests, the line gets crossed when it comes to finding and pushing people's emotional buttons, manipulating them into doing what one wants by poking their sense of guilt, insecurity, desire, pride, whatever.

The intriguing thing is that this marketing technique works -- very well, indeed -- witness auto ads and beauty products and designer clothing lines -- but in the process of building up one's bank account, one runs a simultaneous deficit in the size of one's soul.

And an artist's soul is, indeed, a sensitive thing. An artist's soul seeks and brings out messages from the world around him, transforming these observations into creations of beauty, or angst, or puzzlement, or some other strong emotion.

This same artist's soul, which can be bruised by a cutting comment or a rejection notice from a show, can be downright mangled by scheming.

Although I have no degree in marketing, that may not be such a disadvantage, since I have fewer things to unlearn. Thirty years as a functioning adult responsible for raising a family and interacting with the world around me have given me opportunity to analyze my own feelings and actions as well as those of others.

I have an excellent product -- the Norwegian Artist's art -- a phone, computer, and the ability to write and communicate in a civilized, grown-up manner. Our particular marketing package does not include a close relative already known in the art world, intimate ties to particular magazines, or high level leadership in esoteric art salons -- some people who enjoy these fruits are superb artists; others are not.

Most artists struggling to make their name and artwork known do not enjoy any of the above three advantages, and their path is a narrow, winding, difficult one that may or may not lead to a view at the top. These artists, however, will move forward more easily once they accept that they do not have these perks, refrain from being bitter about this, and seek to use the raw materials that they do have at their disposal.

It is a good goal, and a lofty one, to make a living off of one's art. Whether one achieves this goal, however, does not determine whether one has made a success of one's life. A truly successful life is one that incorporates honesty, integrity, honor, perseverence, diligence, and a concern for others.

If one chooses to pursue monetary gain by embodying the opposite of the aforementioned qualities, what happens not only to the artist's soul, but to his art?

Well, this sounds like an obvious one, doesn't it?

 Amazingly, many of the local and regional artists with whom we have chatted enter few, if any, shows.

 The reasons for this vary, but one that we increasingly hear is that the artist is unfamiliar and uncomfortable with the online entry process.

 Granted, learning how to grapple the computer to the ground and become its master is an ongoing process, and frequently, when things crash and buttons don't work, the temptation is to think back to the good old days.

 But the good old days involved building a supply of expensive slides, all of which had to be meticulously marked and identified before being carefully packaged and sent to their destination. Entering shows was an expensive and time-laborious process, and an artist could be excused for excusing himself from the whole scenario.

 But today, once all of the ducks are neatly lined up on your computer files -- photos of your work are in their cyber cabinets; the resume is up to date; the artist's statement and bio are written and ready (and if any of these last three are non-existent, check out Especially for Artists and contact me at [email protected] to get this going) -- then entering shows should be a matter of filling out the entry form -- either online or off the printed prospectus -- and sending it along with your images through e-mail or snail.

 Entering shows is valuable for a number of reasons:

 Your name, and your work, get out of the studio. Shows take place all over -- in galleries, at museums, within private businesses -- and your paintings will be exposed to more people than come through the doors of your studio.

 You analyze the quality and saleability of your work. Just because you fill out the form and send in the photos doesn't mean that you'll get in the show -- and indeed, this is another major, yet unspoken, reason why artists don't enter shows: because they may not get accepted.

 It may be that your reason for not getting accepted has to do with the quality of your work. If you enter ten shows and get accepted into none of them, you may want to look at what you're doing and see where changes and improvements can be made.

 But it also may be that you're entering the wrong kind of show for your artwork -- try getting a representatonal painting into a show heavy with abstracts. It doesn't happen, although, ironically, the reverse does. Analyzing shows leads to your analyzing your style and becoming aware of what it is that you enjoy doing best.

 You produce more work, faster. Nobody wants you to become an assembly line artist; however, it does you no good to agonize so much over each work that you don't enter shows because you only have a half-dozen pieces, in the last three years, from which to choose.

 The Norwegian Artist is a prolific and energetic painter -- he also has years as an illustrator behind him, during which time he was expected to produce whether or not the Muse was with him. Entering shows gives you a self-imposed deadline.

 You interact with people within the art community. Either through letters, e-mails, talking on the phone, or physically being at the show and hobnobbing with the participants, you discover and make new contacts, never a bad thing when you're marketing yourself.

 Art shows go on everywhere, all of the time. Within a 100-mile radius of our one-stoplight town, I was able to find enough local and regional shows in our first year to get the Norwegian Artist's name off the property and out into the local market.

 Here are some quick ideas to find local and regional shows:

 Google Art Shows and Competitions in your area -- try your town, the ones 30-miles away, the ones 30 miles beyond that.

 Find the local art society and ask them -- our town has a library that is open 20 hours a week and far more cows than there are artists -- but it also has a local art society. Somewhere around you there has to be a group.

 Read the local newspaper, especially the Art insert -- most papers have a Food and Family Section, a TV Listing, an Outdoor Day, and an Art section, the latter which lists and features galleries, local artists doing shows, competitions, and festivals.

 Join local, regional, and national art groups and receive their newsletter -- one regional group the Norwegian Artist belongs to has a volunteer staff member who spends her time seeking out shows and posting them in the newsletter.

 As with anything, just do what you can do in a set amount of time, pat yourself on the back for getting started in the right direction, and go back to your artwork, guilt-free.

A caveat:

This series of articles is aimed toward the novice marketer, namely those artists who haven't pursued pushing themselves because they don't know where to start and can't see how to take time away from the easel.

If you have been marketing yourself for some time now and want to share your insights, put me on your list! At Steve Henderson Fine Art, we are always moving, engaging, learning, and propelling ourselvs forward.

Which isn't a bad place to pick up after my introductory article, Marketing Yourself While Painting, Too -- First Steps.

The day after I brightly announced to the Norwegian Artist that I would take over the marketing aspect of Steve Henderson Fine Art, I sat at the computer, staring, and wondering where to start.

This is always a good time to make a list, and so I did, writing out ten things I would do to start the marketing process. That list is long gone, but I actually only did two or three items on it before the process of movement enabled me to make a better list. But it included directions similar to this:

1) Contact local gallery to see if they are interested in Steve's work
2) Call library for classes or tutoring in MicroSoft Word
3) Learn how to send an e-mail (did I mention that I was an EXTREME computer novice?)
4) Find out about contests or competitions in the area
5) Look at magazines in bookstore for art-related publications
6) Get list of local wineries that deal with art
7) Get list of private and public art galleries in 100-mile radius
8) Find out about art associations
9) See if newspaper has free listing information for art galleries and artists
10) Look into setting up a website

Actually, for a beginning list, it's not bad, honing in and targeting on our local area first, taking advantage of what our region has to offer.

Now quite frankly, our local area is not a seething denizen of art activity, despite its proclaiming to be so, but there were enough opportunities for me to enter Steve's work in a local show, a regional competition, a frame shop that sold art on the side, a winery opening -- the venues were small, the dientele was not affluent, the recognition was limited -- but Steve was also an artist emerging out of nowhere and exploding onto the scene, and I was a marketer who was still learning how to successfully send an e-mail.

Starting small enabled both of us to learn and correct small issues before they became big mistakes. Talking to a gallery owner whose scalloped potato casserole I had eaten in a community potluck enabled me to practice fielding questions and providing cognizant answers, so that by the time I spoke with the director of a larger, national gallery, I managed to not sound like an idiot.

Entering small shows, whose organizers were not dealing with thousands of entries, allowed me the freedom to call or e-mail the organizers with questions about how to complete the process. I learned about the existence of artist resumes, prose biographies, and statements, and in the process of writing these for competitions, began to navigate my computer and its resources with increasing confidence and skill.

The learning curve was steep, drastic and at times painful as I stumbled and fell down the hill. I found myself having to learn about websites, Internet surfing, computer software, art galleries, art shows, art organizations, bookkeeping, tax preparation, record keeping and business regulations all at the same time. Taken as a whole, it was overwhelming, but broken into parts, listed out as necessary, and performed on a regular basis, I slowly saw progress in all of these areas.

If I didn't know the answer to a question or a problem, I called somebody, wrote somebody, or Googled the question on the Internet -- this latter still the best piece of computer learning advice I have yet to receive.

My initial goal was to promote Steve's art locally and test the waters for people's reactions. Because he is a professional artist with a solid working background in illustration, I knew that the product, his paintings, were of high quality, but what I, and he, did not know in those early days was just where he wanted to go with his fine art. Illustrators are expected to produce a diverse portfolio of styles incorporating a variety of media, but a fine artist tends to plumb the depths of a chosen style and generally works in a favorite medium.

The local competitions and shows were a wonderful practice forum for both of us -- we went to the opening nights, attended the juror's lectures, mingled with fellow artists, and conversed with those attending the show. In a small, relaxed atmosphere, we asked questions, listened to advice, and absorbed what was being done in our region. I applied what I learned to the marketing; Steve finessed his style and subject matter.

In the process, we were slowly building a name for ourselves, and each event in which Steve participated was another accomplishment to put on his resume.

--The Marketing Saga continues in a blog to come . . .