The Artist, An Exploration Into An Authentic Life

Is there anything  better than a staycation, but the kind that’s a little further from home?  You’re far  enough away where you won't run the risk of seeing anyone you know so  you have all the license that you need to dress in a different way, maybe bolder, maybe sluttier, maybe  more conservative, whatever floats your boat, but you can be different for a while and who doesn’t love that kind of freedom?

One of my favorite places to travel that is not too far or too close, but just right as Goldilocks would say, is Tulsa, Oklahoma and as luck would have it we chose a weekend that coincided with their first Friday Art Walk or as they call it crawl.

If you haven’t been to a Tulsa's first Friday Art Crawl I would highly recommend it.  It’s surprisingly well populated with not only vendors and street performers, but patrons as well.  It was first established in 2007 to drive consumers to the ever growing Tulsa Arts District.  What started out as 50 to 100 people visiting four to six venues has now grown to well over 3,000 art enthusiasts visiting every month.  

Small to large galleries stay open, many well past their closing hours, to allow customers to peruse the local art scene.

One of my favorite galleries is called the Living Arts of Tulsa Gallery which features contemporary art and we had to of course stop there first.  We have actually bought art from them before as pictured below. They’re weird, they’re strange, they’re deliciously me.

This particularly weekend two exhibits were being showcased.  The first one is entitled the STATE OF THE UNION where artist Val Esparza explores America’s divisiveness by using the flag as a symbolic object.  The stars are twisted, the stripes tangled in both two and three dimensional formats.

The second exhibit is entitled DINKUM HOKUM where artist Austin Gober plays with the idea of shifting perspectives to represent the unusual.  I enjoyed this exhibit a bit more than the first. Probably why I took pictures of some of the pieces, for it did embrace the strange, although some of the art was simpler than what you might expect, something that I think Gober did on purpose.  Taking what you know, the familiarity of it, and turning it into the absurd. Like the first picture is a scene from a normal enough looking living room, but it is set strangely with naked manequins and furniture that has been knocked over. My husband liked the second picture the most from this gallery so I had to include it as well.

Sorry for my less than stellor pholtography skills. I had noticed a sign when first entering the gallery that said something about taking pictures, but I couldn't tell if it was for or against it, so I kind of panicked, not wanting to get into trouble, and tried to be sneaky. I'm sure I was not near as stealhy as I thought myself to be, although no one said a word to me.

Both exhibits run through October 11.

The 108 Contemporary Gallery was next and their current exhibit is entitled STILL which showcases the works of  Lissa Hunter, Jane Sauer, Jo Stealey, and Carol Stein.  These artists have actually been friends for decades, and to maintain their friendship duing the COVID pandemic they met virtually.  As luck would have it inspiration struck during these virtual conversations. 

The exhibit explores the still life through their different eyes, different perspectives, over time.

“Out of stillness comes observation.

Out of observation comes awareness.

Out of awareness comes our work.” (https://108contemporary.org/event/still/)

I enjoyed the different takes on recognizing a life in stillness. From recreated objects, to paintings, to textiles.  

The exhibit will run through September 20.

Then we stumbled into the Tac Gallery, one I hadn't been to before. The exhibit that is  currently on display is entitled THE PROFESSIONAL AND OTHER WORKS.  Artist Chrisa Dené Jacobs has painted a series of portraits inspired by her father.  I enjoyed how the drawn lines seem so haphazard and free.  Individually they might not make much sense, but together they tell a story of a person.  Eyes that are weary, eyes that are lustful, eyes that have seen pain.  

The exhibit will run through September 27.

In the middle of all the vendors and galleries is a large open field with a stage where different dance crews were showcasing their improvised dance skills.  I loved the excitement that the dancers and crowd exhibited with one another, as well as the comradery shown between each dance crew. It was nice to see friendly slaps on the back, shared laughs and nods amidst a world that sometimes feels too hard, too heavy.

Walking around the different vendors, observing all of this art made me wonder what it would have been like if I had taken the artist pathway.  I’m not a talented painter or sketcher or crafter or builder, so I probably wouldn’t have ended up at an art walk or crawl, but I do love to write, and I have always loved to act so maybe a street performer would have been more my thing.  Would I have been happier, I sometimes wonder, if I had pursued something in the arts even if I wasn't well recieved by the masses?  Which would be no real big surprise for me, having never been one for popularity.  Always towing the line of mediocrity except for the fourth grade.  I know, random, but that was a year I remember my confidence really soaring.  I don’t know why it was that year specifically and why the following years I reverted into myself like a turtle seeking its safe little shell.  

Are all children born into confidence, I sometimes wonder?  Confident in who they are without feeling the need to play that neverending, never satisfying comparison game.  Is that taught behavior, the never feeling good enough or was a bully to blame for all of my insecurities, although my bullies so often wore sheep’s clothing.  Church friends who delighted in laughing at my expense or maybe I was just too sensitive and where does that come from?  The overly exhausting sensitivity where even the slightest head tilt if done too fast, too sharp can make you tear up knowing that you are the brunt of someone else's joke again.  A joke that you always had trouble understanding in the first place, which only made the bully laugh that much harder.

But I have grown since then, thank God for that. And with all of that growth I have realized that I don't care so much about what people think or say about me or at least not as much as I once did, but maybe I would have come to this realization sooner if I had followed my inital passions because artists so often revel in embracing their authenticity instead of running from it.  They might go home at night, sad that someone didn’t buy their painting or maybe hurt that some idiot commented too harshly about whatever their creation was, but I choose to think that's not the case.  These artists have put themselves out into the world for better or worse and are satisfied with their choice, for really they couldn’t have ever envisioned another life for themselves.  And maybe that is the real reason art walks are a thing today.  To be around such authentic souls is refreshing in a world of social media, where everyone tries to pretend that their shit isn’t near as bad as we all know it to be.

Art walks  emerged in the late 20th century, but primarily in those big coastal cities, New York, L.A.  Middle America eventually began participating in the early 2000s.  It has grown substantially since then because art is important for what it gives us.  A peak into something that makes us think a certain way, a different way.  Or maybe it allows us to go back in time for a moment to when life was happier or sadder,  and the feelings that are elicited are genuinely authentic to us.  Art walks  allow us to see and maybe even talk to the artists who live so close to us and to respect them for who they are, the ones who have dared to dream a life so much bigger than most, but maybe I’m over romanticizing the whole idea, which I’m kind of prone to do most days. 

Whatever these thoughts are, I hope it inspires you to go to your town’s art walk, usually held on the first Friday of the month, buy something locally crafted and every time you wear or see it, think of the time that was spent creating such a piece.  Bits of someone’s soul went into making that art for you and isn’t that truly an extraordinary thing.