Success Stories

Kay Singleton Keller - Art
From childhood, with the encouragement of my grandfather, I had always dreamed that one day I would be a successful artist. Had no idea what that entailed, nor what a successful artist did. There were no artists, writers or musicians in my very working class immediate family. But my grandfather had been a painter of signs and a decorator of the wheels of horse-drawn carts. He loved to draw, and used to save white ‘butcher’s paper’ for me to draw on when I visited them. He said I had ‘talent’. Whatever that was it was enough to encourage me.
But Life interrupted the amorphous dream, and the paints were forgotten as I married, had children, went to uni, divorced, re-married . Quite a few years passed.
I went to the National Art School in East Sydney, attended weekend workshops in all kinds of related subjects, but was always a dreamer, waiting for the reality to come knocking. Always calling myself an art student.
One day, my husband and I were applying for a loan at the bank. I was asked for my occupation. At that time we were running a restaurant, he was a chef and therefore I was subsidiary. The decision jumped in my head: I am an artist.
From that moment I found a new focus for the restless energy that had plagued me all my life. The student label was never used again.
The road was not an easy one, but now I knew where I had to be and the path I had to follow.
Having no idea about the politics of commercial galleries, I believed that one had to be successful already, before their paintings could hang on those vast white walls.
I tossed all the alternatives as I knew them, around in my head constantly. How could I take that first step? I knew noone in the sydney art scene and had no idea of where to start.
Then I met a local small gallery owner and became friendly with her. She liked my little drawings and I guess she liked me. Anyway we became friends.
One morning after a restless night I made a decision – I would approach book publishers and try to find an outlet for my drawings. Perhaps that would be a start.
Later that same day I was at the home of another local friend, and the phone rang. It was the gallery owner – how did she know I was at that place? Anyway she asked for me and said she had a lady in the gallery who was looking for someone to illustrate some poems she was writing. A small thing but powerful affirmation for me.
That led to a launch of the poetry book in a mainline sydney gallery. I liked the gallery owner, and he liked me, and seemed to like my drawings. The good thing was, he sold my cover drawing straight away.
So, back to sleepless nights, now tinged with a bit of excitement because I believed I had found my gallery. Just had to produce some work, come up with a concept for an exhibition, and approach him.
I wanted to run from the confrontation. I knew that if it was not successful, I would curl up back on my lounge and remain an art student forever.
However, desperation drove me on. Life was not stretching so far ahead as it once did.
So I came up with an idea, painted 3 images along those lines, photographed them and borrowed a small slide viewer from my son, who was by now a photographer in his own right.

Made an appointment with the gallery.
The day of the meeting a couple of friends were working on our house (actually they were building a studio for me in the attic) but I could not tell them what I was doing, nor did I tell my husband before he left for work.

The taxi arrived at the appointed hour – I told my friends I’d be ‘back soon’ and off I went, so nervous I felt like a child going for a major exam.
The gallery director welcomed me, we had coffee, he accepted my proposal with out hesitation. I floated out on air.. Flew over the rooftops to home and rang my husband, then announced to my friends that I had a solo exhibition lined up in xx gallery in about 9 months time!

They finished the attic studio, I finished the paintings, which were based loosely on memories of my life to that time and my journey of self-discovery. Bright, confident,possibly the best body of work I have painted. When they were hung on the gallery walls I couldn’t look at them, they overwhelmed me.
That exibiton came close to a sell-out. What an affirmation.

All it had needed was for me to make the decision, way back when talking to the bank manager. The rest had a life of its own, fuelled of course by my belief that I had to succeed, could not afford to fail. All my life to that point was tied into those square paintings festooned around the walls of the gallery.