I ran into an artist the other day who is just testing the waters about marketing his work. I walked him through our website and the general FASO one, explaining how the system was set up by a computer genius who is also an artist, and how an artist can successfully use it without being a computer genius.

"If I called myself a computer idiot, I would be overrating my abilities," he told me. "I just want to paint, and the task of marketing myself seems daunting. How can I both paint and market myself?"

The Norwegian Artist and I have solved this issue by being married to one another -- he paints, I market -- not such an unusual situation, we are finding. The most volatile issue between us lies in that the Norwegian uses a Mac and I use a PC, which is not much different than a rabid liberal and a foaming right-winger sleeping in the same bed -- whenever the man announces, "The PC is simply NOT intuitive or user-friendly," I want to whack his hands with a paintbrush. Of course it's not intuitive -- Enough already.

This, however, is not a voyeur's look into the life of the Norwegian Artist and his Polish Siren. Back to our Artist Friend:

Yes, it is a daunting prospect marketing oneself and painting at the same time, especially, as with our AF, one doesn't have a computer or feel particularly comfortable using one. Regarding this, I advised our Petrified self-described Computer Idiot AF to seriously look at a basic computer set-up, some free classes at the library to acquaint him with the basics (if our chicken-and-horse town with its single stoplight and libraryette offers classes and tutoring, then surely a place with a real theater and actual grocery stores would do so as well), and to start by setting up an account with FASO -- supplying them, of course, with our name as a referral.

As this is also not a shameless attempt to syndicate this article on FASO's Fine Art Views, I will assume that I am preaching to the choir of existing users, all of whom, I hope, are following the basic weekly task of maintaining their easy-to-use-by-a-computer-idiot website and keeping it up to date with recent artwork, show information, artist bio information, and so on. If our AF did nothing more than this, he would be ahead of where he started, and he would still have time to paint.

In the early days of marketing Steve Henderson Fine Art, when I was tackling the logistics of how to send an e-mail, I found that keeping our FASO site up to date notched me, step by step, up the learning curve. There is something about instant success that propels one forward. There is also something about rapid and efficient customer service answering my most basic of questions in a polite, professional manner that kept me stumbling on and up.

(If you have not tapped into the incredible resource of FASO's customer service team, then do so now. They obviously must have some computer geek genes to do what they do, but they speak to the computer idiot in a clear and non-condescending way.)

Although I keep complete Excel spreadsheet files of every aspect of our business, I use the FASO site as a quick overview of what we have where, and frequently can answer a client or gallery's question simply by looking through the site. As a marketing tool I find the site invaluable, incorporating the link into every e-mail, every letter, business card, gallery note card, web visit, and appropriate conversations. It is a de facto portfolio of Steve's existing work, constantly updated to reflect the latest paintings, shows, workshops, or resume information.

Next blog -- Tottering Ahead

In the little town where I grew up, a mighty controversy is raging over a piece of art -- or a sign -- depending upon whether or not you approve of a giant purple octopus peeking over a rainbow, painted as a mural over a toy store. City officials declare that the mural -- or the sign -- does not fit into the "historical image" of the downtown area.

Over the objections of many of its citizens, the town already finds itself installed with some controversial public art that defies description as historical -- notably an over sized curvaceous white structure that looks like a noodle, a starving brass cow with a hole in it and vegetal detritus within, and a poofy Pioneer Gal with a corncob pipe sticking out of her mouth. Personally, I like the happy fat pigeon (or is it a hawk?) near the bank on the bank of the river, but I would call it contemporary, not historical. And the giant fiberglass onions that were temporarily spattered throughout the downtown -- they are best left in the thin layers of the recent historical past.

The octopus art -- or sign? -- however, was privately commissioned by the business owner, who reports spending much time wrestling and wrangling with city officials over whether or not he could have the octopus painted on the existing white brick wall.

Receiving no clear direction as to specific regulations permitting or forbidding the mural, the owner in frustration opted to go ahead and do it over a holiday weekend -- at which point the city found clear and definite reasons to cite the businessman a daily fine for non-compliance with regulations that the owner says his previous discussions with city officials never officially uncovered.

Oh -- accuracy here. The elected city council "left the decision about the painting at Inland Octopus (the toy store) in the hands of administrative staff."

Administrative staff, incidentally, are not elected officials. But they're officious . . . er, official.

And administrative staff made the decision that the large mural is not art, but a sign, and as a sign, clearly does not fit into whatever codes and regulations and decrees and stipulations that it has, somewhere, on the books.

The mayor pontificated about how a town could not function if some people opted to do things their own way without consideration for the rules and regulations set up to establish order.

Powerful, PowerPoint words indeed.

Perhaps this means that the city council will be addressing the town's growing problem with gangs. Or maybe the gutted and abandoned mall two miles away that "investors" keep ignoring. (Regarding the latter, one irate local letter-to-the editor writer described the mauled mall as the ultimate in art, since it was of such enduring and longstanding quality. He also wondered why city officials didn't try to track down and fine the consortium of "artists" responsible for the sculpture of rubble and assess a fine.)

If the council wanted to maintain its laser beam on downtown, members could discuss over cookies and milk the
chronic lack of parking that plagues the historical center, no doubt dating back a generation when a hitching post or two was sufficient to accommodate all. They might even ask the owner of the toystore, along with his fellow merchants, for suggestions.

(Shortly after the Octopus Scandal erupted, I drove by the toyshop and was going to drop in to congratulate the toy owner on his stand, but wound up driving on because there was no place for my Civic to sit.)
 
It is intriguing that -- in an election year with a hotly contested Senatorial race and a contentiously divisive sherriff's one -- so many local letters to the editor hone in on a purple octopus, and whether or not the municipal ruling party is selectively enforcing nebulous rules with a heavy hand.

Very few letters support the city council's decision, and not a single one has praised them for the manner in which they chose to resolve the situation.

The owner of the toy store has retained a lawyer. It looks like he plans to come out with all eight arms swinging.

The City Council is silent.

Years ago, when our Son and Heir was a toddler, he solved insurmountable problems by running down the hallway to the back bedroom, hiding behind the door, and wandering out ten minutes later as if nothing had happened. It saved face. It is not, however, a model that adults should emulate.

So . . . what makes one item a piece of art, and another one a sign?