
Those Vampire Volunteers
Those Vampire Volunteers
40 x 30
2005 / #4
Occasionally I make paintings that let off steam about an issue I face all too often. The attack of the Vampire Volunteers is one of those pieces. Let me explain who they are. We all encounter these people. They work for some do-gooder organization or some fundraising event and feel no shame in calling you over and over and over, year after year after year, to donate something. In the case of an artist, the things we can give are many but nobody ever ask the same of a plumber after all.
The first figure wants my time. Yes, that is I in the chair, bound by a paper chain and having my creativity sucked out in the form of my life’s blood. She wants me to give my time for free, because artists don’t really have a job you know, especially one who is a stay at home mom. The second figure wants my money. She is based on a real person, whom I actually like quite well, but her persona is such a natural target for my work. Everyone in town knows who she is just by the hair, the flower on the suit and the logo on her belt. I have used her in several paintings over the years. Why invent a stereotype when one lives nearby? This person is quite well off financially and thinks I am too, though we both are only so because of our husbands. If I am to donate money, my name is not on that check. The third figure wants my talent. She is after centerpieces and props, decorations and general creations. Her glee in having my resources blinds her to the fact that it is all just spilling down the drain anyway.
My standard flat wall space and bulletin board rectangle establish a background scene, not really relevant but somewhat dungeon like and institutional. Holding the papers to the board are things that can make you bleed. There are times I feel like I should be committed for saying “yes” yet again to people who want what I can provide. I rarely say no, but give priority to organizations that support children. My figure is in the traditional blue scrubs I wear to paint. Notice that the characters all have horns in their hair and little vampire teeth. Look closely at the next person who asks you to donate or participate. If you see little teeth, just say no.
40 x 30
2005 / #4
Occasionally I make paintings that let off steam about an issue I face all too often. The attack of the Vampire Volunteers is one of those pieces. Let me explain who they are. We all encounter these people. They work for some do-gooder organization or some fundraising event and feel no shame in calling you over and over and over, year after year after year, to donate something. In the case of an artist, the things we can give are many but nobody ever ask the same of a plumber after all.
The first figure wants my time. Yes, that is I in the chair, bound by a paper chain and having my creativity sucked out in the form of my life’s blood. She wants me to give my time for free, because artists don’t really have a job you know, especially one who is a stay at home mom. The second figure wants my money. She is based on a real person, whom I actually like quite well, but her persona is such a natural target for my work. Everyone in town knows who she is just by the hair, the flower on the suit and the logo on her belt. I have used her in several paintings over the years. Why invent a stereotype when one lives nearby? This person is quite well off financially and thinks I am too, though we both are only so because of our husbands. If I am to donate money, my name is not on that check. The third figure wants my talent. She is after centerpieces and props, decorations and general creations. Her glee in having my resources blinds her to the fact that it is all just spilling down the drain anyway.
My standard flat wall space and bulletin board rectangle establish a background scene, not really relevant but somewhat dungeon like and institutional. Holding the papers to the board are things that can make you bleed. There are times I feel like I should be committed for saying “yes” yet again to people who want what I can provide. I rarely say no, but give priority to organizations that support children. My figure is in the traditional blue scrubs I wear to paint. Notice that the characters all have horns in their hair and little vampire teeth. Look closely at the next person who asks you to donate or participate. If you see little teeth, just say no.