The Artist’s Circle — We Get By With a Little Help From Our Friends

Much of my life as a painter happens alone. There is the canvas, the music, the changing light in the studio, and whatever story I am trying to bring into view. But when I look back over nearly twenty years of building an art career, I see people everywhere.

Artists, galleries, art writers, collectors, suppliers, and creative professionals. Mentors who answered my questions. Friends who understood the disappointments. People who opened a door, offered an honest opinion, or reminded me to keep going. While art is often created in isolation, an art career needs connection. Over time, we build our own artist’s circle.

A Long Tradition of Gathering

The artist’s circle has no single beginning. Artists and thinkers have gathered in different ways across cultures and centuries, sharing ideas, discussing work, and finding people willing to imagine something new.

One familiar expression of this tradition is the salon. In seventeenth-century France, private homes became gathering places for literary and intellectual conversation, often hosted by women. These gatherings helped shape cultural life, with their influence extending well beyond the rooms where people met.

Centuries later, the Paris gatherings associated with Gertrude Stein and her family brought artists, writers, and collectors into close conversation with modern art. The Steins opened their homes on Saturday evenings to visitors who arrived with a reference, creating opportunities to encounter new paintings and the people making them.

There is something appealing about that image: a room full of art, conversation moving in unexpected directions, and someone introducing you to a person whose ideas might change your own. Some circles were selective, and introductions mattered. That can give them an air of mystery. Yet what interests me most is the simple act of bringing people together around a shared curiosity. A meal. A conversation. A painting on the wall that nobody can stop talking about.

That part feels very familiar.

Finding My People

When I began working toward a full-time art career, I had no clear idea how I would find my community of mentors and friends. I knew I wanted to paint. Learning how to build a life around painting was another education entirely.

At first, the connections came through peers: other artists finding their way, asking similar questions, and navigating the same uncertainties. There is comfort in talking to someone who understands why a small breakthrough in the studio can feel enormous, or why a rejection can linger longer than you would like.

Eventually, I began reaching beyond my immediate circle. I contacted artists, curators, and dealers across Canada who had decades of experience. I wanted to understand the business of art more fully: how the work develops, how galleries operate, how relationships endure, and how an artist sustains a practice over time.

I was curious about the whole picture.

Those conversations helped me see possibilities I could not yet see from my own studio. They also reminded me that the people whose careers I admired had once faced their own unanswered questions. Experience does not remove uncertainty. It gives you more ways to work through it.

There Was Usually a Meal Involved

Looking back, many of my most meaningful connections involved sitting down to eat.

And at some of the best get-togethers, really great tequila was shared.

There is something about a table that makes room for a different kind of conversation. You begin by talking about an exhibition or a painting, and somewhere along the way you find yourself discussing travel, family, music, disappointment, ambition, or the strange turns a creative life can take.

You get to know the person behind the work.

That matters. A lasting relationship needs room for more than professional exchange. It grows through humour, generosity, shared experiences, and the willingness to listen.

Some conversations leave you with practical advice. Others leave you feeling more like yourself. Both can make a difference when you return to the studio.

Encouragement, Honesty, and a Little Perspective

When you are starting out, having even one person firmly in your corner can make an enormous difference.

Someone who believes in you before there is much evidence for anyone else to examine. Someone who offers encouragement when the work is difficult, the sales are quiet, or your confidence has temporarily left the building.

From there, your circle grows.

You find people who lift you up, pique your curiosity, and challenge you as an artist. The best relationships can hold encouragement and honesty at the same time. A trusted person can celebrate your progress and still ask a question that makes you look at a painting again.

I value that balance.

I also value people whose experiences differ from mine. A dealer sees a painting through conversations with collectors. A writer finds language for something I may have expressed instinctively. A collector brings a personal history to the work and notices a detail that carries unexpected meaning.

Those perspectives expand my understanding of what happens after a painting leaves my hands.

Artist’s Circle Friends: The Circle Around a Painting

For collectors, the most visible relationship may be between the artist and the finished artwork. Yet a painting exists within a much wider community. There are suppliers who help us find the right materials, galleries that introduce the work to new audiences, writers who give it context, and collectors who choose to live with it.

Collectors become part of the circle, too.

Choosing an original painting supports the time, attention, and persistence required to make the next body of work. Sharing a painting with a friend, visiting an exhibition, or sending an artist a thoughtful message can also begin a connection that lasts for years. I may be the person holding the brush, but I am aware of the relationships that help make a sustained painting practice possible.

That awareness brings gratitude – and a sense of responsibility to contribute in return.

When Mentors Become Peers

One of the rewarding changes that comes with time is seeing relationships evolve. People I once approached as mentors have become peers. There is a shared history now, and the conversations have changed as my own experience has grown. At the same time, I find myself sharing what I have learned with younger artists. I remember what it felt like to have so many questions. If something I have learned can help another artist approach a gallery, prepare for an exhibition, or feel more confident about their next step, I am happy to share it.

There is still plenty for me to learn. New connections continue to bring fresh ideas and unexpected possibilities. But I also appreciate the depth of relationships maintained over many years. You have seen one another through different chapters. You understand how much work sits behind the latest announcement or finished painting.

That kind of knowledge takes time.

A Circle of Independent Spirits

Someone once told me that gathering artists to complete a task—or simply getting them to meet on time—is like herding chickens.

I think we are more like cats.

At least, I am.

I value my independence. I need long stretches of uninterrupted time, and I tend to follow an idea wherever it takes me. There are days when I am perfectly happy with paint, music, and very little conversation. Then comes the moment when I need to step outside the studio. To share a meal, see someone else’s work, laugh about the business, or talk with a person who understands this particular way of moving through the world.

Over nearly twenty years, my artist’s circle has grown through those moments. Some relationships have become friendships. Others have offered guidance at exactly the right time. All have helped shape the life surrounding the paintings. To the people who have encouraged me, challenged me, collected my work, shared their knowledge, or pulled up a chair: thank you.

And if there happens to be a little good tequila on the table, so much the better.