Every once in a while, a work of a master is found in an attic or a library collection or a thrift shop. This surprises us and we wait for Christie's to auction it off for a fabulous price. But what happens to those of us who have worked seriously, diligently and professionally our whole lives as artists but have not had the luck, location or drive to reach that master status?
What happens to all this work? Think of Cincinnati. There must be hundreds of artists who produce high quality work. It piles up. A few pieces are sold. It still piles up. Then magnify this across the country and across the world. Where does all of this go? Where is the elephant's graveyard of all this work?
I remember reading of one artist who made a bonfire and burned all of his work. I know there are estates and foundations and other strategies. Maybe all the work will live in clouds in cyberspace. Maybe on thumb drives. Maybe in the future all art will be virtual. Maybe the image is only the lingering memory of the idea it tried to articulate.
Maybe its fate is the eventual fate of the elephant and its graveyard. Extinction into a virtual graveyard.
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