"Is that a painting?" she asked quizzically.
"No, no it's not," I deadpanned, waiting for her next response.
It's better to let them linger for a moment before explaining the process by which I make my art.
I enjoy their expressions and occasional intuitive guesswork.
Then, I take them through the creative process, letting them know just enough to be curious but not so much as to give away my secrets.
Not that it is revolutionary.
It's not.
It is, however, unique.
I'm sure I'm not the only one using this creative process, but I haven't found someone else that's doing it -- not on the internet and not in galleries.
It's just not there.
I call it Photo-Art.
I should probably coin a more trendy term, or make it sound more avant garde.
Perhaps I'll call it anti-dystopian.
But, I like to think my work speaks for itself, and I usually disdain trendy except for some great new restaurant that I just have to try.
Well, not where I live, but in a real city, certainly.
And, that is where you would see my work! Trendy restaurants, chic hotels and offices would all showcase these pieces.
It is commercial art for the new generation of technically savvy businesses and the globally interconnected community.
The process I use begins with photography.
Why? Because I can't paint.
So, instead of paints, I use photographs as my pallet.
Yes, I know you have heard this before.
So have I.
And really, I am totally bored with hearing that from photographers.
If you are shooting photography, it is quite it's own genre.
You don't need to suck up to the world of painters.
Period.
Photography is it's own art, and one I am certainly a fan of.
So why do I say it? Because, I actually mean it.
My final works are not photographs, they only originate there.
Just like a painting is not the paints.
It only originates with paints.
I am Jack's larynx in an opera house, a product of the digital age and my poor skills with a brush.
I manipulate the photographs until they are no longer photographs, but something else.
I blur the line between photography and painting until a laymen cannot tell the difference.
I'm sure you can, but you are not a laymen.
It might surprise you that half the people I talk to at art-shows ask me "is that a painting?" I then have them printed on one of several substrates: watercolor velvet, canvas or white aluminum substrate.
Occasionally I put them on lustre paper as well for price-conscious clients.
My favorite substrates are the watercolor velvet and the aluminum.
The velvet doesn't reflect light, and is the one often associated with the questions of "is it a painting?".
The aluminum, however, seems to glow with its own light.
It's a truly amazing thing to see.
The beauty of these kind of artworks though, is their versatility.
The same piece of art can be transformed for size, shape, substrate, or even color.
I often color match my works for particular client needs.
If the predominant color is green, I can make it blue.
No problem.
Need a couple pieces put together to make an eight foot strip of art? No problem.
This is where classic art ends and photo-art begins.
Photography is great for this too, but sometimes people want more than a photograph.
They need an interpretation, or a feeling, or a mood only an abstract painting could generate.
My aim is to battle my disdain of the corporate with the best commercial art possible, and then, maybe then, I can forget the dystopia of corporate America -- or India, or wherever our corporate system really is now.
My resolution is to brighten our world, just a little, maybe like a 25 watt fluorescent, but with a better tonal curve.