There are those in my hobby we call "pot hunters." They win a lot of awards. They build a model not to what they might like (although they usually do), but rather for what is "popular" at the time, from subject matter to painting style. They're the ones most likely, when you see their model and are impressed enough to ask them how they d…
There are those in my hobby we call "pot hunters." They win a lot of awards. They build a model not to what they might like (although they usually do), but rather for what is "popular" at the time, from subject matter to painting style. They're the ones most likely, when you see their model and are impressed enough to ask them how they did it, to reply "it's my secret" - to which I always respond "there are no secrets," and then proceed to tell them how it was done, using common practices, and I can tell from the look on their face that their "secret" is secret mo more. The ones of this type I know in situations other than a model show (I go and put mine on the "display only" table, which pisses off the pot hunters that the table exists, since it's a rebuke to them due to the fact that the models on it are usually from the people others think are really good at it) are people who usually have what I would consider a "dead end" job - usually as a result of things they did, and the chrome-plated plastic pots on the shelf at home are how they don't have to face their life.
I am currently taking water color lessons once a week from a friend who is a bonafide and professional artist. This is a medium I have never explored and I asked her only to help me get out of whatever "box" I had built around myself - she's doing a great job of throwing new and different ideas my way. We just had a discussion last week about this "pot hunter" notion as it applies to people in her field. She told me this: "I have nothing to prove. Not to me. Not to anyone. I do this because I love it. Others seems driven to win. I see no pleasure in being driven to do anything for a ribbon at an art show. If someone is drawn to my painting, I'm happy for them and for me." (I had told her about a piece I had done that had so attracted a young man who came to install a security system, I had simply handed it to him as a gift.)
There are those in my hobby we call "pot hunters." They win a lot of awards. They build a model not to what they might like (although they usually do), but rather for what is "popular" at the time, from subject matter to painting style. They're the ones most likely, when you see their model and are impressed enough to ask them how they did it, to reply "it's my secret" - to which I always respond "there are no secrets," and then proceed to tell them how it was done, using common practices, and I can tell from the look on their face that their "secret" is secret mo more. The ones of this type I know in situations other than a model show (I go and put mine on the "display only" table, which pisses off the pot hunters that the table exists, since it's a rebuke to them due to the fact that the models on it are usually from the people others think are really good at it) are people who usually have what I would consider a "dead end" job - usually as a result of things they did, and the chrome-plated plastic pots on the shelf at home are how they don't have to face their life.
I am currently taking water color lessons once a week from a friend who is a bonafide and professional artist. This is a medium I have never explored and I asked her only to help me get out of whatever "box" I had built around myself - she's doing a great job of throwing new and different ideas my way. We just had a discussion last week about this "pot hunter" notion as it applies to people in her field. She told me this: "I have nothing to prove. Not to me. Not to anyone. I do this because I love it. Others seems driven to win. I see no pleasure in being driven to do anything for a ribbon at an art show. If someone is drawn to my painting, I'm happy for them and for me." (I had told her about a piece I had done that had so attracted a young man who came to install a security system, I had simply handed it to him as a gift.)