Five ways to spend your stimulus check

Itā€™s meant to be an economic stimulus, not life-support.

The Dooryard, 11X14, oil, by Carol L. Douglas. Stimulus sale price, $550 (regularly $735 unframed)

Whether or not you wanted it, the government recently put $600 (or more, or less) in your checking account. Itā€™s meant to stimulate the American economy, but Iā€™m not sure how much is helped by our usual purchasing patterns. After all, much of what we buy at big box stores is made overseas. Assuming you donā€™t need the money to pay the rent, how can you spend it to benefit your neighbors as well as you?

Invest in your health. Sadly, $600 wonā€™t buy a tummy-tuck, but it will pay for exercise classes or a gym membership. It could also buy physical therapy for that persistent pain, or a round of preventative dental cleanings. How about good winter gear from Maine’s own LL Bean so you can exercise comfortably in the winter? The person who said ā€œthereā€™s no bad weather, just bad gearā€ is an idiot, but warm boots do help. 

Fallow Field, 12X16, oil, by Carol L. Douglas. Stimulus sale price, $675 (regularly $895 unframed)

Donā€™t forget mental health. Iā€™m from New York, where all the best people have had therapy. Itā€™s not cheap, but it can exorcise the demons that keep tripping you up.

We’re all suffering from disconnection these days. More data on your phone plan or a fiber-optic internet service provider can mean better connections with others. If your technology canā€™t keep up with modern communications, update them.

Jack Pine, 8X10, oil, by Carol L. Douglas. Stimulus sale price, $315 (regularly $420 unframed)

Buy art. Iā€™m not talking just paintings here, although thatā€™s a great idea. Instead of replacing the next item on your list with something utilitarian, why not buy something beautiful instead? Consider handmade jewelry, hand-dyed textiles, or a handcrafted table instead of yet another particle-board whatsit from a big box store. (As a dedicated green, Iā€™m a firm believer in good used furniture.)

This is not just about making work for a starving artisan, or even about indulging yourself. If carefully selected, art can yield better long-term gains than the stock market. Not only will you enjoy handling and seeing the object every day, your heirs may thank you after youā€™re gone.

A cautionā€”thereā€™s a world of difference between ā€˜collectiblesā€™ and art objects. If you donā€™t understand the difference, find a competent gallerist to help you.

Winch, 12X16, oil, by Carol L. Douglas. Stimulus sale price, $675 (regularly $895 unframed)

Learn something new (take a workshop or class). Thereā€™s been an explosion in on-line learning because of COVID. Why not use your spare time to learn to sing, do Pilates, or paint? You can find classes on almost anything. (Sadly, my own Zoom painting classes are currently waitlisted.)

Or, sign up for a workshop in the summer. Iā€™ve got four on the docket for next yearā€”Sea & Sky at Schoodic, Pecos, and two watercolor workshops aboard schooner American Eagle.

If youā€™d rather figure it out yourself, acquire the tools you need. One of my painting students has been buying router bits; heā€™s teaching himself to make frames. Get a guitar or a good used piano and make some music.

And there are always books, which were the original door to shared knowledge.

The Whole Enchilada, 12X16, oil, by Carol L. Douglas. Stimulus sale price, $675 (regularly $895 unframed)

Buy a tree. Iā€™m a pretty cheap person, so my idea of planting a tree has always been to dig up a sapling, transplant it, and wait for it to grow. The older I get, of course, the less practical that approach is.

All of us could use more beauty in this world, and our local garden center is a great place to find it. Iā€™m seriously thinking of yanking those overgrown, dormant shrubs this winter and replacing them with something pretty in pink.

Donate to a charity. There is always need right in our own communities, especially in this pandemic year. Mainers can consider Maine Community Foundation. In Rochester, I like Gerhardt Neighborhood Outreach Center. Iā€™m sure thereā€™s an organization in your town that could use help.

You donā€™t need $450 million to buy a painting

Original art comes in all price points. Itā€™s not just for rich people.

Apple Orchard by Chrissy Spoor Pahucki is available at pleinair.store.

Almost everyone in America knows that a painting reputed to be by Leonardo Da Vinci sold for a record-breaking $450 million last week at Christieā€™s. Thatā€™s an amount I canā€™t even begin to comprehend. It implies that regular folks like you and me canā€™t afford art.

ā€œWhen I was a child middle-class people didn’t have original art in their homes, unless one of the family was an artist,ā€ said painter Bobbi Heath. ā€œThings are different now. Original artwork is available at a price point equivalent to buying a poster and having it framed. You can find it online, at art fairs and open studios, especially this time of year. And you don’t need a gallery owner to tell you what you should like. Spread your wings and hang something on the wall that makes you happy.ā€
This little dinghy by Bobbi Heath is available at Yarmouth Frame and Gallery.
When I was a kid, our public library had an art-lending program. You could borrow a painting or print, hang it on your wall for a while and enjoy it, then return it and borrow another work. That was as profound as checking out books.
Art is a tool by which we can dream. It has the capacity to transport us out of our current situation. The hospital where my friend lay dying had beautiful floral paintings in its cancer wing. When I had to step out of her room while they did a procedureā€”which was oftenā€”I found myself staring into those paintings. They were my path out of a sad situation.
Our choice of paintings is one of the primary ways we express ourselves in our personal spaces. Bob Bahr used to write a column for Outdoor Painter called Artist as Collector. It told you as much about the artistā€™s personality as the artistā€™s own work did.

This little mussel by Susan Lewis Baines is available through the Kelpie Gallery.
ā€œOne thing I have learned after 20 years working with art is that the ā€˜priceā€™ of a work of art has nothing to do with its value,ā€ said conservator Lauren R. Lewis. ā€œThe value lies in how you connect with a work of art on an emotional level. I have never been able to get on board with the idea of ā€˜art as investment.ā€™ The art market is fickle, so I never recommend that someone buy a painting with the intention of selling it later at a profit.ā€
I have clients, a married couple, who pared their lives down to almost no material possessions. They own two large oil paintingsā€”one by Marilyn Fairman and one by me. As nomadic as their life is, they hang those paintings in a prominent place wherever they land. Art brings a language of beauty to our lives,ā€ one of them told me. ā€œWe have contentment and constancy from looking at our beloved pieces.ā€
White Pines and Black Spruce by Carol L. Douglas is available at pleinair.store
ā€œUnlike generic prints from the nearest big box store, original art comes with a story about where you found it, why you bought it, or the super cool artist you bought it from,ā€ said painter Chrissy Pahucki.
Original art is less expensive than you might imagine. I was at a gallery last weekend where there were hand-drawn colored pencil works for less than I was considering paying for a mixer attachment for my daughter for Christmas. Less, in fact, than a coffee-table art book, but with more staying power.
ā€œBuy art because you love it,ā€ said Lauren Lewis. ā€œBuy art because it makes you feel good to look at it. Buy art because you need to have it in your life. That is how you tell the worth of a painting.ā€

Far more fun than the convention

Come for the art show, stay for the full moon and balmy sea breezes.

Come for the art show, stay for the full moon and balmy sea breezes.
Today is wrap-up day at Ocean Parkā€™s Art in the Park. The wet paint show and saleis tonight from 5 to 7 PM. If youā€™re in Portland or points south, itā€™s a short drive to 14 Temple Ave, Ocean Park.
Itā€™s a Perfect 10 day. Youā€™ll see fine artwork in a beautiful historic beach town and you can stroll downtown for an ice cream cone afterward. Above all, nobody will be talking about the Republican National Convention.
Tour-de-force painting of the shuffleboard sign by Russel Whitten. I'm sure he finished this as perfectly as he started it.

Tour-de-force painting of the shuffleboard sign by Russel Whitten, in progress.
For the artists, the last day of an event means finishing work, taking photos, framing and packing. If thereā€™s time, we might even paint one more piece just for fun. For watercolorists and pastel artists, the added work is even more considerable, since they must frame under glass and mount their work on acid-free paper.
Our workbenches are any flat surfaces we can appropriate for a few minutes. I have the luxury of a picnic table and fine weather today, but there have been many times Iā€™ve framed on the back deck of my little Prius.
I started my morning yesterday by finishing my ice cream parlor painting from Monday. Anthony Watkins and Ed Buonvecchio chose the same subject, so we held an impromptu salon under the maples at the corner of Temple and Grand. All three of us like talking about painting almost as much as we like doing it.
"Goosefare sunset," 10X8, Carol L. Douglas

ā€œGoosefare sunset,ā€ 10X8, Carol L. Douglas
An aspiring painter named Heidy sat down to watch me paint. When I realized she had her kit in her car, I suggested she paint with us in the afternoon. ā€œYouā€™ve chosen well, or badly,ā€ I told her. ā€œYouā€™re surrounded by painting teachers.ā€ It wasRussel Whitten who broke first and gave her an impromptu watercolor lesson.
Larry, Curly and Moe lost on a sand dune. That's really Anthony Watkins, Russ Whitten and Ed Buonvecchio.

Larry, Curly and Moe lost on a sand dune. (Thatā€™s really Anthony Watkins, Russ Whitten and Ed Buonvecchio.)
In addition to painting, Ed and I hawk Plein Air Painters of Maine to other painters. This totally-free association is a great resource. For most people, itā€™s important to have support and company in what is essentially a solitary pursuit.
"Curve on Goosefare Brook," 8X6, Carol L. Douglas.

ā€œCurve on Goosefare Brook,ā€ 8X6, Carol L. Douglas.
Itā€™s not that common for event painters to move in a pack like weā€™ve been doing. Iā€™ve really enjoyed it. For all our larking about, the work weā€™re turning out is of consistent high caliber. Weā€™re all relaxed and having fun, and it shows in our work.

How not to buy art

I went on ebay this morning and found you some great masters. Here, a Joan MirĆ³ for $75… or was it $90?… dollars. The only difference in buying this from a gallery is the bland assurance of the gallerista that it is genuine. And when you get it back to your brokerage office in Des Moines, it will hardly matter.

The Wall Street Journal ran an article called ā€œHow to Buy Warhol, Degas and Renoir on the Cheap.ā€ I hope they were using Sarcastic Font, because it should be read as a story of how to get suckered.
What are people buying when they purchase a smudgy scrap of paper or a print overrun from the hand of a master? Not art, for sure, but bragging rights. And theyā€™re not even particularly good bragging rights. Experts canā€™t agree about the authenticity of paintings that, if accepted into the artistā€™s oeuvre, could be worth tens of millions of dollars. Does anyone believe they apply the same level of scholarship to a painterā€™s grocery list?
And here, a genuine Pablo Picasso. You can tell he really did it because of the bull.
There was a time when it seemed like every gallery in New York had a Joan MirĆ³ print for sale at a knockdown price. And yet they were anodyne, unmemorable, and their only selling point was that the collector could say they had a ā€˜nameā€™ work in their collection.
I once sold a Leonard Baskin print on ebay. I needed the money more than I needed the print. Someone got a far better deal than had he or she bought one of those MirĆ³s. But that buyer knew art and knew the market.
And who would try to forge an Egon Schiele anyway? Just everyone, that’s who.
The buyer who loves art but doesnā€™t know anything about it should try to learn something about it under the tutelage of good advisors. He shouldnā€™t be buying putative Old Masters; he should be buying new works that have room to appreciate. And if he isnā€™t willing to put even that much work into it, he should stick to collecting old LPs and band posters.


Let me know if youā€™re interested in painting with me in Maine in 2014 or Rochester at any time. Click 
here for more information on my Maine workshops!