It’s weird, creating something. I think this can be said for many art practices. But, in the car world it’s only gotten weirder for me. I speak to many of my artist friends about this feeling of loss when you create something and sell it. Personally with my own work that is made on canvas I sit with it. I paint it for months on end. Stare at it and nitpick until I’m content. And in many ways I’ve approached painting cars in the same manner.
The transition in changing my art surfaces from canvas to a metal object that will traverse this earth has been a crazy one. I’ve had to learn to create that connection just enough so I can pour my all into a paint job. But to also abruptly cut that connection once the car is out of the shop. Mark, my fiancé, thinks it’s an easy journey. Me on the other hand, have struggled. I build these deep bonds with my work. Every brush stroke is carefully planned out. Every design on the car is brainstormed before it comes to fruition. And I sit with these cars much longer than I sit with my own thoughts, or with canvases.
All this to say that it’s tough acclimating to the idea that you can pour so much into something and you never really get to sit there and slowly let go. That’s something I do with my oil on canvas paintings. Usually once they’re done I put them away and take them out to study them. I show them in a few shows. They sell or I put them back into my storage. And I know I can look back on them whenever I would like. It’s not like when you create lowrider murals for someone. I don’t have that privilege. The car leaves the shop and I mourn that loss on my own.
I don’t know yet what that feeling will do for me in the long run. Having so much pride in something you worked tirelessly on, but not being able to connect with it beyond that because as quickly as it came to you is as quickly as it’ll leave. But I do appreciate the journey as a whole. It’s crazy for me to think that I’m two cars in to this journey and I have more on the way. Right now I feel I can reconcile that loss by working on my own car. I don’t think I’ll ever let go of La Playgirl. There’s a special feeling when you work on your car. There’s something rare to me about being able to pour in just as much love as I do to commissions into my own work. Especially into a car I hold so dear to me, my life, my relationship.
All I can do is document my process. Hold on to those memories and share them with my kids. They’ll know their mom was a bad ass. An emotional one, but a bad ass.
It’s interesting to hear how other artist approach this issue. I’ve had people tell me there’s painting they refuse to sell because it’s a painting they hold dear to them. Other people will stash their work away so they don’t have to dwell on it. I know many friends who will freely give their art away because well then they can see their work whenever. But it’s a different experience with commissions. It’s rewarding when your client truly loves your work. When they tell you they’re going to leave it for their children, or come back for more work. That’s what I hope for all my paint jobs. For someone to love the work so much it’ll be cherished by them, their families, and future generations. One can only hope.