10:07 AM 5/17/2010
riding this horse
i seem to be the only one riding this horse. it must be a horse of a different color. at the same time i seem to be invisible; even to myself at times. as an art maker i am free.
this is a nice place to be as a maker. throw caution to the winds. throw anxiety to the winds. make, make, make! however, after awhile, what does all this mean to the self if its only me that sees or feels it? dilemma? yes! i say to myself that it doesn’t matter if it is seen. busllshit! it does matter. but getting it seen today is almost impossible. i don’t network anymore— not that i ever really networked in the first place. but 20 — 30 years ago, i didn’t seem to have issues getting my makings shown in galleries and/or museums; or sold. now? forget it. like pulling hen’s teeth!
so, what do you (i) do?
dunno! i keep on making. turn over rocks to find venues interested in showing the work. don’t know what else to do. in a commodity run art world, art seems to be invisible. i seem to be invisible. as an invisible, i need to put on the suit and get on with it.
interesting!
dpn 10:15 AM 5/17/2010
David Novak - life in flat land 
This making thing, it’s a necessary function. It’s you and what you’ve always done is what I’d put money on if I had spare money to bet, which I don’t, but once when I was young, my Dad let me choose a dog’s name from a list for my Uncle to bet on for me. I chose Rushtractor. He made me no money, but I enjoy thinking about it.
Your work, each piece is a battery. You make batteries. It gives. It gives to you and to others. Hopefully you share as many of your batteries as you can because that’s a nice thing to do. They help. They give brains chew time. They give hearts discussion.
You are a wonderful battery machine. Thank God you do what you do.
David, I so love your honesty in your writings about art. You really should do a book.
Now that I see you are blogging more frequently, I must get back here more often!
I love what Olie has said. All of it so true.