Dreams and Hopes

Selling art and selling books feels like the same world.  You, as an artist or writer, are a small drop in the huge ocean.  Thousands, or maybe millions, of artists and writers around the world are creating and selling their stuff; often very good stuff.  Dominating the whole process are these large, nee huge, web sites who sell art and books—best and biggest example; Amazon.  In the art world there are FineArtAmerica and ArtPal along with many more.  They are very functional with huge data bases of art ready for the consumer to browse and chose great looking art and products for their personal use at relatively small prices.  The artist gets a small (very small?) piece of that sale.

My ebooks are exclusive to Amazon for several good reasons; some economic and some convenience.  The largest cost for marketing my Amazon books is paying Amazon to promote them in this sea of competing books.  I don’t know the number of indie authors Amazon has as an exclusive, but it has to be hundreds of thousands.  Their product ads are sold to this somewhat captive audience.  It’s a brilliant business strategy.  Now, of course, those authors chose to be in this situation so it is not Amazon’s fault that it works better for them than the authors; that’s just how it is.  I’m not particularly happy with this system but don’t know how it should be changed.  Of course the obvious solution is fewer authors—but if they started excluding certain authors –I might be gone.  So, that’s not a good solution.

When I first started writing, maybe ten years ago or so; I was deeply absorbed by the writing experience.  It was hard work (which I think surprises non-writers), but I enjoyed the whole troubling process.  Even the editing and debates over cover design.  Everything felt important and creative.  Having those first books show up on Amazon and start generating sales and reviews was thrilling.  I fretted over every negative review and redoubled my efforts to write a perfect book.

Now I spend more time marketing/promoting than I do writing.  It doesn’t feel productive.

The art has many of the same characteristics as writing.  Creating art is energizing.  I can become absorbed in the process.  Sometimes I will labor on artwork for hours and hours; or sometimes it is more inspiration than perspiration.  I once did a sketch in a matter of minutes as a present for my brother’s birthday.  We were headed out for the party and realized we had not purchased a gift.  I did a quick charcoal sketch and thought it was one of the best pieces I had ever done.  My brother loved it—of course, he was my brother.

Marketing art is worse than books.  While the web sites have many tools, they are not the equivalent of Amazon and books.  My art is purchased for decorating.  Colors, designs, hues, blends, shapes all have some aspect in the decision process but in odd ways the art is all the same.  A book is very distinct, good or bad—it is usually unique.  Art starts to all blend together in shapes and colors.  Does this match my sofa?  How would this look in the hallway?  Those are valid decisions but very subjective.

My art is bold, graphical and colorful.  One critic, who actually liked my stuff, described it as “primitive.”  He was describing a certain art style not suggesting I was ape like (or at least, I don’t think so).  Books are personal but art is very, very personal.  A good PI mystery can be enjoyable even if your preference is sci-fi.  Art seems to fit into narrower and narrower categories.  “I only like pictures of flowers or birds!”

One of the great things about all of the internet stuff and digital this and that is the availability of amazing art and great books at ridiculous prices.  You could probably spend a lifetime reading nothing but free books (or maybe up your limit to $2.99) and never run out of options.  And there is incredible art for very low prices that can be delivered right to your door—ready to hang.  My art is available on towels, handbags, face masks, pillows, shower curtains(?), and on and on.  Unique art on anything and everything.

I know it’s my own design–but I bought this pillow and I really like it.

All of this access is good; but I wonder if there is too much of something does it start to lose value.  A thousand free e-books on Amazon today may lessen the value of those books, or even all books.  The best-selling book last week was the tell-all gossip book about Trump by his niece.  I’m sure someone thought that was an important book (maybe the niece, since it sold a million copies in one day at full price).  That book had value because it was unique or sensational; but a free mystery book has little value—so why even bother downloading if its worthless, much less take the time to read it.

The plus side to all of this is a monstrous marketplace for all sorts of creative endeavors that has never existed before.  As a consumer of art or books or most anything creative the supply has never been this vast, this accessible or this cheap. 

For the artist and writer, the opportunities have never been this wide open.  Pre-internet book publishing was controlled by a very few publishers who had more gate-keepers than editors.  The snobbery of publishing was legendary; don’t know someone important, fuck-off.  The art world was controlled by academics and a few odd-ball loonies.  Not a member of this elite class; then you know –F-off.  All of those barriers have collapsed.  Today you have to compete with the hordes of other authors and artists, but you are competing.  The doors are wide open.

It is still a very small number who reach their financial dreams being creative, but the number of people who can now legitimately dream of that kind of success is almost unlimited.  Dreams and hope have great value.  We are lucky we live in this time.

Thanks for being a reader!

Free the Artists

I’m sure I’ve mentioned before (okay, several times) that my first ambition was to be an artist.  I wanted to paint and live in Santa Fe.  In most cases I envisioned myself as a very successful artist—in other words, wealthy; so the Santa Fe experience was not exactly starving artist territory.  With more than I care to mention years under my belt, I can look back and realize what I really wanted was freedom.  Being an artist was freedom of the mind, and being rich was freedom of all of the boring stuff people did to make a living.  It was always just a fantasy life.  A life seldom achieved by anyone.

Few artists are really free.  They are most likely tormented by their failures, which are often on public display.  All creative activities are subjective.  One person might think your stuff is the best in the world, the next person says it’s trash.  Intellectually that is easy to understand; but at some level it hurts to create and have anyone say it’s no good.  Creating something, music, art, writing bares a private part of the artist. 

During my on again off again activities as an artist, I’ve probably created a few hundred pieces of art; some good, some not so good.  When I look at some of this art I did thirty, forty years ago it’s as if someone else did it.  I have no memory of the art, or why I painted such a thing.  Some of my earliest art was to decorate our house—sure couldn’t afford to buy anything.  Here, I will sketch out something and we will tack it the wall, viola—a work of art?  One of the strangest was when I decided an old abandoned (thrown away!) piece of barn door suddenly looked like art to me.  I hung this very heavy object on our wall—it was okay until it wasn’t, things started to emerge.  Decided the door was best left to the trash heap.  Good art should not have things crawling on it.

Currently working on photographing all of my art.  Hopefully, in the next few months will have most of the “good” stuff available to view (and purchase) in a new art gallery.  This will include some digital pieces I did years ago, along with my acrylic paintings and watercolors.  I have popped some of the digital work into this blog on occasion.

Once everything is up and running, I will let you know how to view the gallery.  For now, there are some images available at www.tedclifton.com/artwork.htm

Cactus with lines

I have bitched and moaned about the lack of baseball for several months.  Well, it looks like there will be baseball in a few weeks.  I’ll have to find something else to bitch and moan about—but don’t worry already working on a list.


Have a free book promotion running Monday, July 13th on Amazon for Santa Fe Mojo.  This is the first book in the Vincent Malone series.  Malone is one of my favorite characters.  A flawed loner who messed up his life by succumbing to his weaknesses.  He’s someone who is comfortable being good or bad; based on the circumstances.  Should have been a huge success, but with his fatal flaws, he became someone who just gets by.  While running away from everything, he rediscovers his worth in Santa Fe, reluctantly helping others. 

Thanks for being a reader!

Favorite Artists

In my monthly newsletter I have featured authors and artists whose work I enjoy.  The list of these people would be all over the map; from famous to unknown.  The only common element is that I like their stuff.  Personal preference is a fascinating human characteristic.  Why does one person think an artist is the greatest in the world, and someone else can describe the art as trash?  This can often be people who, on most matters, agree; but when it comes to art or writing see the world through different lenses.

For no reason, other than not to dwell on covid-19 or politics, I was giving thought to my favorite painters.  With only scant thought, I came up with a list of eight.  What I immediately saw was a common theme of bold colors.  The one exception was Monet; with his softer tones but engaging imagery.  I like abstract, I like somewhat realistic, I like color, I like daring images with bold hues.  Not sure what this pattern is or isn’t?  The famous quote “I don’t know much about art, but I know what I like” is a way of saying that the best art is just personal preference.  The fact that a list of the top fifty artists would have mostly the same names has to do with who compiles those lists and their native biases. 

My list has famous names not because they are famous, but because I like their stuff.  But, also, it’s because those are the artists I know.  Many, many artists never become known outside a very small following (thanks, mom!).  In that “who the hell is that list,” I’m sure there are artists who could replace Picasso as my favorite—but only if I know they exist. 

Painters and indie-authors share this lost in the crowd problem. 

My list of favorite artists (at this moment):

Pablo Picasso

Claude Monet

Henri Matisse

Jackson Pollock

Andy Warhol

Georgia O’Keeffe

Vincent Van Gogh

Diego Rivera

O’Keeffe and Van Gogh probably had the most influence over my attempts at art.  O’Keeffe in particular, due to our shared fascination with the landscapes of New Mexico.  While Van Gogh was a Dutch painter, many of his paintings had the same sense of space and color as O’Keeffe. 

Art and fiction writing are two distinct areas of expression, but for me they have a lot in common.  The stories in art are usually less obvious, but the stories exist just the same.   Fictional murder mysteries are not art in the sense of a Diego Rivera painting but the attempt to tell a story in words has a lot in common with painting.  Some stories are bold and jump out at you with a sudden explosion of emotion; while others build a story layer by layer until the picture becomes clear and meaningful.

Okay, my favorite, favorite artist of the unknown variety.

Ted Clifton


New book by one of my favorite authors.  His “The Devil in the White City” is one of my all-time favorites.  Have not read this new book but I would bet it is terrific.

Thanks for being a reader!