Final Installment of the Chain Interview

In my last post, Laura Timmins was sharing with us how she balances the art with the business. She had some great ideas for goal setting, and keeping herself on track throughout the year. Laura then turned to her friend Maureen Carlson to ask a question about inspiration.

Question for Maureen Carlson from Laura Timmins: I love listening to the stories that go with your figures. What is your process when you are starting a new figure? Do you have a story in mind and then develop a figure that fits the character in your story, or do you have a character in mind and then the story comes about as you are working on making the figure? What most often sparks a new idea for you?

Thanks for asking, Laura.

When I create my story characters, such as the Pippsywoggins, I usually start with a character idea, then the story, then the sculpture. The most critical aspect of making it all work seems to me to be imagining a specific spot where the character might live. Then everything else falls in place. These imagined homes are always in real locations with which I’m familiar, such as my backyard asparagus patch or the line of pine trees down the road.

It seems that finding a home for the character makes them real to me, and triggers my mind to go into that world where wee folk might live. I can see them arranging their little homes and taking on a personality. As I do this I start typing questions into my computer, and, if I’m in the zone, from somewhere in that never-never land the answers come pouring out. I can tell if it’s a true story by the way my energy feels. If I have to work hard at it, then I’m forcing it. Then I sculpt the character to fit the story. As I sculpt, if I have an idea for a fun accessory to add to the piece, I can always go back and add it to the story.

When I ‘m doing art pieces that tell a story, such as a story box, I usually go back and forth between the idea and the actual piece, with everything being much more intuitive and perhaps never written into story form at all. After I’m all done I can look at the piece and then “read” it, taking note of the symbols and relationship between the elements. I still use my imagination, but more in an interpretive way.

Having watched one of Maureen's sculptures evolve over a few days, it is truly an amazing process. And one does get a sense of story with each piece she creates. The back and forth process she describes with the story boxes is one I think many artists experience when they are creating. Many of us also know about the difference she describes between being in the zone, creatively, or having the feeling of "forcing it."

Maureen turned to another sculptor, Katherine Dewey, who creates such beautiful sculptures. Both have written and published extensively about sculpting with polymer clay.

Question for Katherine Dewey from Maureen Carlson: I'm curious as to why you've stayed with polymer clay for so many years? I know that you love to experiment with lots of materials, and that with your artistic skills and knowledge of the human figure, you could work with any material. Why polymer clay?

Also wonder if you could give us that sculpting link for the people who are using polymer clay to create their masters for the garage kit and game industry. I think other people on this list might like to see another part of the polymer clay world.

Actually, I sculpt in a lot of media. I currently work in epoxy, paper clay, sulphur free plasticines, and wax. I once worked with terra cotta and stoneware. Polymer Clay is by far my favorite medium. It doesn't require a lot of tools and it's more versatile than anything medium. It's friendlier than epoxy, cleaner than wax, more permanent than Chavant, and it's colorful. Oh, so, colorful. Gray, brown, green or buff-- those are the colors of plasticines, earth based clays, carving waxes and epoxy compounds. Oh, there are days and there are sculptures that are better rendered in a single color (gray and brown being my favorites) because form and texture are paramount. Only polymer clay allows you to sculpt in color. What a spectacular notion!

Here's link to the Sculptor's Corner, my favorite web site where you'll find artists and sculptors far better than I am. All of them work in polymer clay, though most work in other clays and waxes as well. Look for Tony Cipriano, Randy Bowen, the Shiflett Brothers (Brandon and Jarrod), Mark Newman, Chris Elizardo, and Gabe Marquez. Ask any one of them: What's your favorite clay? To a man, they will answer: "Super Sculpey!" I know for certain because I did ask. I also know that artist's whose jobs require they work in wax, Andy Bergholtz or Eric Sosa, for example, begin their sculptures in Super Sculpey and then mold and cast in wax for the finishing touches.

If you are at all interested in sculpture; making, or just admiring, be sure to check out the links above. There is incredible talent to be explored.

This is where the chain ended. I plan on beginning a new chain in the next week or so. Keep an eye on your mailbox.....who would you ask a question of?

To all the artists who participated in this experiment, "Thank you!!"
It has far exceeded my expectations in many ways. It also was a reinforcement in trust and letting go for someone who used to have control issues, that still surface from time to time.

For those of you who have been procrastinating about making New Year's resolutions, or goals for your business for the coming year....or who already feel like you have failed at your attempts at resolutions, I have a post coming up for you. Stay tuned.

The Prison of Your Voice

I know, I know. I have told you how important it is to develop your own, distinctive voice. It is your trademark, and your brand. But,.....I can't help but wonder if all this emphasis on voice can be a prison or a poison to our creative muse.

Let's say you do what everyone says. You come up with something that is "yours"! No one else has anything quite like it out there. And, joy oh joy!!....people like it! They are buying it! Talk about gratification. There is truly joy in the creative process itself. It can be the best drug on earth for anything that ails you. But, when others see your work and "oooh" and "ahhhh!" over it, that is a very heady moment.

And, even artists are human. What happens when we get this wonderful rush of excitement over how much people liked what we did? We want to hold onto it, to preserve it, nurture it, baby it.....do absolutely anything to keep it going. Am I right?

The problem is, this very act is what might kill us as artists. As soon as we try to stay right in that moment of being surrounded by "oohhh's" and "aaahhh's"....better yet, accompanied by hands outstretched with credit cards or cash....as soon as we try to capture that moment, we may have hammered a nail in the coffin for our creativity.

As soon as we say to ourselves, "this is what is working, so I will do more of this," we have begun to build the prison walls. It will not be immediately apparent. Because it will take time for the light to dim, and the crowds to disappear. But, they will. Human nature, it seems, craves a certain degree of novelty. And if we do not continue to create, we risk losing our audience, and that excitement about our work.

Yes, we want, and need, to develop a line, and explore it fully. But, we don't want to kill the creative urge in the process. We must trust that if we had one good idea, there are more where that came from. Doing work to satisfy the market is not what this is about. It is more about letting the reaction of the market guide,....or misguide,...your muse.

What is the creative urge? For me it is the voice that says, "I wonder", or "Hunhh." It is that place where a question pops into my mind. Or a shape or form, or a new surface. This is the place we must nurture and protect. This is the place that needs care and feeding. If instead, we say, "Oh no, I can't do that. This is what my work looks like, what people expect from me....not that." We firmly turn our back, close that door, and put that nose on that grindstone, and grind away. And pretty soon, we will find that the ideas to explore have disappeared.

Another risk of closing off to new ideas that might pop up, is that we might become very, very protective of "our" work. When we get to that place of intense ownership, and protection of our work or our expression, we can start to see threats where there are none. People who are copying us. People who are stealing from us. Fear and paranoia are not conducive to creativity. They send us looking over our shoulder and around the corner, when where we really need to be looking is inside. Inside our heads and our hearts. Letting the voice that can't be too still for too long have it's say.

Fear of being copied can be a huge distraction. It drains our energy, and distracts our attention. It keeps us from moving forward. We always have one eye open for that dirty, rotten scoundrel who is ready to rip us off.

What if instead, we say, "Copying happens." Because it does. It is the place where many people begin. It is borne from admiration and enthusiasm, as much as any other place. When an individual copies you, it is unlikely to do much harm. They cannot copy your name, or your maker's mark....the very energy you infuse into each piece in the process of creation. They will most likely get bored and move along, or find their own muse and move along. And that is the essential ingredient for all of us, movement.

Movement is rushing, bubbling, flowing. It may have fits and starts at times, but the general idea is motion. Momentum. Seldom in a straight line. Our creative voice must move. It must stretch it's legs. Peek around the corner, veer off down that path. It is endlessly curious. Sitting still is not what this is about. Building an artistic legacy on one thought, one idea, one expression will not happen. Letting yourself grow as an artist means going with the flow more than discipline. I will explore that in a bit more depth in my next post. But for now, let me know what you think. How does your creativity bubble up? Does it move in fits and starts? Or does all this seem like a foreign language. I would love to hear your thoughts.

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving to all my American readers. And, any and all, please feel free to share a thought of thanks for the day, the week, or the year.

I personally, am thankful for the gift of watching my daughters grow up and begin to emerge as two incredibly unique and wonderful people.

Another Reason to Find YOUR Voice

Once again, the issue of voice arises. What makes your work identifiably yours, and belonging to no one else? And why in the world is it such a big deal?

When you first start out, voice is hard to grasp, or develop. Technique takes center stage. But you know you are seeing it when you can look at a picture and immediately identify it as belong to a specific person. Or, your mouth drops open when you see something for the first time, and you gasp. Or you just feel compelled to touch. You can't stop the "oooohhh..." from floating out of your mouth.

Why am I bringing it up again? I was listening to the radio this morning in the car on the way to an appointment. The conversation was about our dependence on oil from other countries, and whether or not we could become energy independent. At one point in the discussion, a light bulb clicked on in my head. The guest on the program spoke about how oil is a commodity like iPod's, flowers, or rice. And people will buy a commodity based on price, availability and convenience.

The question that immediately popped into my head was, "Can craft be a commodity?" And, I am sure you know the answer, "Yes." Without a doubt. I instantly thought of the many, many jewelry artists I have seen making fused dichroic glass. At one time, there was a "wow" factor to it. But now, unless the artist has created a unique way of incorporating the glass into the piece of jewelry, there is no compulsion to buy from one artist versus another, unless it is based on price, convenience, or perhaps personal relationship.

The same can be said of so many other craft objects. If you go to enough craft shows, you will see many of the same things, again and again. But, at that same show, there will be a few artists that pull you in. They are doing something that is different and unique. As I write about this, I can think of several artists right off the top of my head whose work has that flavor. They range from ceramics to sculpture to jewelry. Their work stays in my head because it was so fresh and unique, and their style speaks to me on some level. I have to stop, and look and maybe even buy.

My daughter is beginning to dabble in photography. We have had lots of conversations lately about photographs, and one thing she has said repeatedly, is that a picture of a sunset is not art....unless you are somehow looking at it in a new and fresh way. We were at the New Hampshire Craftsman's Guild Show last week, and she saw some pictures of boats tied up to a dock. Four or five rowboats of various colors. You know the picture, I am sure. She loved it. I preferred the picture of the sole boat, white, tied to a buoy in a mist. Monochromatic, and definitely one with a mood. It was a twist on the boat picture. I pointed it out to her. She loved the one with all the colors. This was in the first tent we visited.

As we walked the show, she started to notice several other photographers with essentially the same picture. That image had become commoditized. Buying one versus another would likely be based more on price than on anything else. She now looked at that picture as just another sunset shot.

Is that why you want someone to buy your work? Because you have the best price on this object. An object that can be found in subtle variations, from multiple sources. I don't. I want them to buy it because the love it. Because if they don't buy it, it will stay in their head. They will wish they had it.

There are times that the commodity item fills the bill nicely. And there are plenty of successful businesses built on making and selling commodity type items. But, if you are going to be in that market, recognize the competition will be fierce, and you will always be squeezed on price. Your creative energy will likely be focused more on cost cutting than on design innovations. If the business side of things is what excites you the most, that might be just the right fit for you. If, on the other hand, it is the art, or creative side that makes you get out of bed in the morning, then avoiding be just another commodity is essential to your success.

We all have a voice. A unique set of experiences and inspirations. How does your work reflect the path of your life? Does it? If it doesn't, then perhaps it is time to spend some play time in the studio. Experimenting. Asking "What if?" When you find it, you will know. It will be singing to you loud and clear, asking, "Where have you been? I've been waiting for you!" And then, the party will really begin!

Is It Bullying or Just An Innocent Request?

I found myself in an awkward position several times during the retreat weekend. I had brought some of my new work to show, and sell. It was wonderful to have a group huddled around the work, touching, "oohing", and "aahing". When you have spent months, or longer, working out a new line of work, there is nothing more gratifying than seeing other people appreciating it. And when that appreciation extends into purchases, it doesn't get much better than that. Voting with dollars is the biggest "yes" you can get about your work.

But, I had not anticipated another side of that appreciation, and it had to do with the environment I was in. I had many requests to show exactly how I make the beads I use in my new Shibori line. How do I get them so uniform in size? How do I do that surface design? On one level it is flattering. They so connect with the work, that they want to make it themselves. But, on the other hand, I am not ready to share just yet. It is what I am selling. My income depends upon this work, and these designs. It is too new to be firmly recognizable as my work. It is less than a year old.

What exactly are the costs of my laying it all out there at a retreat.....doing a demo? First, I will be giving away my "intellectual property". Exactly how I make these beads, in form and surface design, is my intellectual property. Just like companies that make widgets, that knowledge has value. Others may copy what I am doing, but there is no reason for me to hand it to them on a silver platter. Why do you think companies like Apple voraciously defend their patents and copyrights? Their knowledge is too valuable to lose. Right now, I feel protective of the knowledge of how I make these beads.

If I decide I want to share it, it might make more sense for me to teach in a class where I am being paid to teach what I have developed. It is at least acknowledging that the time and creative energy that went into this work is worth something. Whether it is in the form of a DVD that you have made, a book, or a classroom, if you are being compensated, you are acknowledging you are sharing something of worth, as is the recipient.

Sometimes we give stuff away freely and without the need or desire for compensation. I did a demo at the retreat of some designs I came up with a while back, and knew I was never going to use. Sharing it meant someone else, who might connect with the idea more than I did, could run with it. I did it willingly and freely. It felt right.

The problem with the retreat environment, with demos on the schedule every half hour, is that a perception may develop that everyone shares everything they know. Holding back is selfish. Especially to someone who is not aware of the complete landscape of where this medium fits into people's lives. Some play with it as an outlet from their regular job. For others, it is a job. And others float back and forth in the mid-zone.

It is not too hard to politely turn down a request to teach something that you are not ready to share. The challenge I found, was having the request made multiple times by the same person. I think the intention was made without fully grasping the consequences to me, and thus the persistence in asking. I was polite but firm in my resistance to teach this particular technique. I repeatedly said, "I am not ready to let go of this yet. They are new designs."

I found my response became more strained when faced with the same request again and again from a few people. I held my line. But would someone else who was not standing on such firm ground, eventually give in to the request, not able to say "No" just one more time? The recipients of the knowledge shared might walk away pleased with what they have learned, but will they understand the resentment they might have created in the person they dragged the information out of? I am guessing they just don't know what it is like on the other side of the equation, and why there is resistance to sharing.

Just because someone asks, it does not mean you have to share. You share because you want to. I am not saying this from being a cut throat business person. I am saying it from the point of view of being pragmatic. I can make a choice; to share or not to share. It is my choice to make. And the timing is up to me. I may disappoint a few people along the way, but in the end, I would rather do that than carry around the resentment of feeling bullied into sharing something I was not ready to share.

If teaching or writing is the primary source of income for your business as an Artrepreneur, the decision process might be different. You may be interested in demonstrating your teaching abilities to potential students.....giving them a taste of what they might learn from you in a more extensive class. Or you want to practice and refine your teaching skills. These are valid reasons to perhaps share more willingly and openly. But the context of those choices, or an alternative choice are not always recognized by others. Even when we explicitly state our reason.

It never feels good to say "No, I am not going to share this." It feels even worse when you have to say it again and again and again. But worse than that, giving in when you know in your heart, you do not want to, at least not yet. Approach these choices with a conscious awareness of the trade-offs. And whatever your choice, make sure it comes from what you need right now, and not the external volume. Remember the old Gallo wine commercial...."We will sell no wine before it's time." We must not share our designs and techniques, until the time and circumstances feel right. Then we can let it flow as freely as the wine!

Creative Retreat

Each year, for the last few years, I have tried to attend a creative retreat. A chance to get away from the normal routine and immerse myself in a creative environment. I recently returned from the Connecticut Polymer Clay Guild Clay ConneCTions 2008 retreat. It was held over the past weekend, and I had a wonderful time, learning, meeting, re-connecting, and claying. The Connecticut Guild is strong, and does a wonderful job putting together this biennial retreat. The very first retreat I attended was put on by the Connecticut Guild in 2004.

One of the best parts of a retreat is the opportunity to meet, and begin to know, people who you might otherwise not get the opportunity to spend time with. Whether it is the person who is sitting across the table from you, or someone leading a demonstration of a technique, or your neighbor at the breakfast table. There are many opportunities to connect, and get to know more people in the broader community. This retreat was no exception for me. Some acquaintances were renewed or deepened, and others began. Either way, it was one of the most valuable gifts that I take away from any retreat experience.

I had a chance to learn a few new tricks and techniques. One of which I have already played around with, and may incorporate into some new crane patterns for next year. I now am a "licensed operator" of the Polymer Clay Express extruder, and will play around in the coming months with some of the new extrusion dies I purchased at the retreat. I love the openness of Polymer Clay Express to consider adding new dies based on requests from users. This makes for a richer tool base for everyone. I am awaiting the delivery of one of their new clay rollers....NOT a pasta machine!....but one built for the strains of conditioning a stiffer material. Wider, stronger, and better designed. I was told it is expected to be delivered in December. I also purchased a motor for my pasta machine. I have begun to experience tendinitis in my elbow....perhaps from all those cranes I have been making!

Over the last few years, I have begun to witness the downside of retreats. It is not something that is in the control of the organizers, and it is behavior that is not limited to creative retreats. Get enough people together, and you are bound to have a bit of toxic energy infecting the event. Fortunately, it is generally so far under the radar that most people do not see it, nor are they affected directly by it. But, it can have long term consequences that can affect all of us.

The source of most of it, is the source of most toxic stuff that floats around in our lives. Envy, deception, misunderstandings, etc. Most of it can be cut short, and often is. But sometimes, it becomes strong enough to do damage. To hurt the vulnerable. To discourage them from attending these sorts of events in the future.

There are definite "classes" within the creative world, just as any other community. We may talk about how wonderful it is that we all get along, and share, and respect.....but, when people are at different places on various spectrum; from experience, to ambition, to knowledge, "classes" form. I remember when I was at the Synergy conference in Baltimore in February. This was one of the best conferences I had ever attended. The concentration of talent and experience in one place was amazing. But it also could easily bring out the most deep-seated sense of inadequacy in nearly anyone.

I remember walking into the large main room at one point, and noticing a table full of "names"...people of significant profile and accomplishment. My first reaction, was one that I am not proud to admit. Why are they all sitting together, isolating themselves? I reacted from a place of inadequacy. That I was not feeling "good enough" to sit at that table. Then, thank goodness, I stopped right there and realized something deeper was going on. I was looking at this table by looking at the surface accomplishments of this group. In reality, this group of people had known each other for years. They had watched each others struggles and growth, and were there for each other through personal challenges, and triumphs. This is why they were together. They were friends relishing in the opportunity to see one another, and catch up with each other.

How often do we look at someone who has accomplished something in their artistic career by their resume? How often do we attempt to get to know that person as a person? Are we hoping to get something from being in proximity to them? And if they disappoint us how do we react? Do we translate those disappointments into an assessment of them as a person? And if we do, is it valid?

I have seen people hurt by the thoughtless spreading of nothing more than gossip. What happens when you are on the receiving end of some of this "hot stuff". Gossip that has it's primary value in the name attached to it? When we pick up the ball and spread the dirt, we are complicit in the damage done. We can say we were only passing on what was told to us. We did not start it. But it is feeding the beast.

What if instead, we turned to the source and said "No, thanks." Deflate the balloon a bit. As soon as we hear it, we feel the need to do something with it. Just don't pick it up. Put it down, and walk away.

And if it is about someone you like and respect, explicitly turn it down. What happens when we just pass the dirt along to the target of the gossip, "so that they know"? Hurt. Hurt with no outlet. No way for the issue to be resolved. The best thing is to just walk away. If someone feels more important by knocking down another artist, then you have elevated them by receiving the gossip. Don't do it.

As my profile in the polymer clay world has risen, the gossip value of my name has most likely increased. I try to stay away from the places where the gossip is most prolific. I have built a virtual cocoon of protection around myself. Not that I want to live in the illusion of my perfection, but rather, I don't need to hear idle speculation or gossip about who I am, and why I am doing things. I am deeply familiar with my own inadequacies. When the gossip does filter my way, I am often surprised as much by the content as by the source. Having that chatter in my head does nothing to nurture my creative self. If anything it chips away at it.

As an artist, we have duty to protect ourselves. How can we be creative if we don't? Your real friends will help you see the full you, but in the context of a relationship built on knowledge and understanding. They will help you be a better you. Gossip never does that. So the next time it comes your way, say, "No thanks, I'm on a gossip-free diet. It doesn't agree with me." You'll feel like you just lost ten pounds!

Don't let the possible negatives keep you away from a wonderful nourishing and enriching experience. Don't expect a lot of work to be done. But do plan on laughing, playing, and making a few new friends.

What Do You Know?

It always surprises me how much insight is possible in the obvious. But it is only when we step outside our normal framework that we can perhaps have the vantage point to see.

When I began this journey into becoming a working crafts person, I found there were many steps and hurdles along the way. First, it was developing the technical skill with my material. I can still remember Nancy Markoe at a class at the Arts Business Institute. She was reminding us that no matter how much we learned and understood about the business of craft, in the end we had to also spend time in the studio, honing our skill. We had to be able to have our hands understand the material. She used an example of making a handle for a mug 100 times before you might begin to be competent at that task, and develop the muscle memory of the task. Her words ring even more true for me now.

I have come to understand that we often start from where we are. Obvious, yes. The experiences we have had will color what we see as possible. For me, jewelry was an obvious thing to make. I have worn jewelry for as long as I can remember. I have collections of antique and vintage jewelry. At a craft show, I have always been drawn to the jewelry. I know jewelry. I love jewelry. And my cranes came from a connection to that origami form.

But recently, I began to venture outside the familiar. When I began work on the Crane Project, I was scared to death. I knew nothing about this new terrain, or a project of this size or scale. I knew I was going to have to find a place to install the project. How do you find that? How does it get installed? How do I get the money to pay for it? How in the world does something so big and overwhelming ever happen?

I am still learning answers to many of those questions. But in the process, I have had my world expanded a bit. What seemed beyond me, and a world inhabited by others, more daring or more creative now seems like a place I might want to visit. I have had several ideas stirring up lately that I am excited about exploring. I don't know when there will be time to get to them, but nonetheless, I have experienced a shift.

When we move beyond what we know it is stretching our muscles. It may hurt. We may be rejected. We may not fit in. But, it may be worth the aches and pains on the way to creative growth. We grow when we go somewhere new, or try something different than what we already know how to do well. Growth is seldom going to happen by sticking with what you already know.

In the last few months, I have applied for, and been rejected for, several grants. A year ago, the idea of a grant was not even on my radar. I have now learned more about that process, and will continue to refine my approach. I have learned more about budgeting for a project. I have asked all sorts of people for all sorts of help. Some say no, but others say yes. Some days I feel like a politician running for office and trying to raise funds for the campaign. It is not what you are in this for, but if you don't do it, the other opportunities may not come your way.

By taking this step across the imaginary line of what I saw as possible, into the impossible, I feel like I am Alice in Wonderland. I have entered a new place, with all sorts of doors to explore and possibilities to consider. I may decide I want to go back to the safety of what I knew before, but I may end up feeling a creative expansion that would not have been possible if I did not step across that imaginary line. The line was only there in my head. I decided what I could do, and what was not possible. The line is mutable though. We can redraw it at any time. We can venture into areas we thought were off limits.

What you know and what you have done before does not have to set the boundaries for where you go in the future. They can be a foundation. A stepping stone. A safe harbor. We get to choose.

Do you have any lines you want to redraw?

Following a Path to Joy

Almost eight years ago my dad died suddenly from a heart attack. He actually had at least three heart attacks over a few days. The second one brought him to the hospital, and he ended up with a stent in his heart. But, his heart never stabilized, and later that night he had another heart attack that ruptured his left ventricle. This one was fatal.

At first I was doing what I could to help my mother through this difficult time. But over the next few months, I found that his death affected me more than I thought it did. I found myself slipping into a deep depression. Finally, I sought out a therapist. Eight years, and several therapists later, I think of my Dad, and miss him, but I have also made some deep changes in the way I live my life, and along the way found more joy than I thought was possible.

Why am I sharing this with you? It relates a bit to the post I had recently about Critical Balance. Until this crisis sent me to therapy, I did not realize how much all the negative "stuff" I carried around in my head, and repeated to myself over and over again, inhibited my creativity, and diminished my life overall.

I continue therapy, even though depression is gone from my life, because I have come to realize the work to stay present, and not get caught up in all that "stuff" is something that is on-going. Once a month I get to check-in with the best therapist I could ever have. And once a month I meet with an amazing group of women, and we reflect and share on different aspects of our lives and our experiences. In this process, I can see better where I have been, and how far I have come. I can find where the residue of pain still resides, and carefully explore and heal. And I stay in touch with "me." And if you want to find your voice, there is no better place to start!

This past week, we met, and we wrote about the joy that is in our lives. We were in tears, and laughing, sometimes simultaneously as we shared our reflections. Tonight, I shared with my kids what I wrote, and given their response, I decided to post it here, with the background. I have come to believe, the work I did "on myself" was the best work I ever did to nurture my creative being.

So here goes....

I start to reflect upon my day and the little moments that made me smile, or feel in that moment. What unifies those moments is simply presence. Presence to what is. Presence to a moment that can’t be captured and preserved on film, or in words, or in any way at all as completely as just being there at that moment.

My mom calls to thank me for coming over and for the card from me that she found after we left. We talk for maybe ten minutes, and it is a nice re-connection and reinforcement of our relationship and our bond as mother and daughter.

I take a tray of beads out of the oven. As I collect them into my hand, and then into a container, the subtle sparkle and pattern catches my eye and makes me smile. Yes! This time it worked. These will make some nice pieces. But, just now, they bring me a moment of joy. I roll them around for a moment, in the container, enjoying the visual and tactile experience.

Later I am making cranes. I cover a sheet of clay with a variety of cane slices. The mix of color and pattern sings on this one. I smile in a moment of “yes!”

Packaging and sorting cranes to fill orders. These normally tedious tasks feel good today. I enjoy seeing each crane on the shred, and in it’s own little box. Soon two orders are picked and in boxes to ship. I take pleasure in the ease with which this happened today.

At dinner, I take in Colleen. Her eyes sparkle as she talks. A smile illuminates her already luminous face. We all laugh together as Kaela exudes joy and excitement at all the possible directions her life could take. Each fulfilling an aspect of her being. She can barely get the words out in a coherent sentence, she is so happy about all that lies before her like a feast.

My life is one of abundance. Simple moments. The excitement of the dog to do a trick and get a treat. The sound of my coffee press makes as it slides down. Dave’s voice on the phone.

I had moments of stress and frustration today. But the joy of the moment can be found like sparkling jewels scattered throughout my day.

My little mantra these days is “Create abundance.” Perhaps I don’t need to say create. Maybe it is just about noticing. Being present to all that is here for me already.

....so, what do you think? Does it make you want to start noticing the jewels in your own life? I can guarantee they are there. It is not about the big "wow!" moments. Those are good, but the sustenance comes from finding joy in the moment. The mundane, everyday moments. And, when we find it there, we have less "need" for the other kinds of that the commercials want us to believe are only a purchase away.

If you'd like, feel free to leave a jewel or two in the comments!

Maintaining Critical Balance

One of the biggest challenges we face as people who rely on our creative output is to maintain the delicate balance between being creative, and engaging our critical eye. Too much in one direction, and we risk never reaching our potential in developing our technique or our design ability. Or, too much in the other direction, and we may never get beyond the sketching or thinking stage.

Criticism is a sharp knife. It can be used as a fine editing tool. Honing our design, refining our technique. All good chefs will tell you a well sharpened knife is an essential tool. A dull knife can make a mess of things, and make the job harder to accomplish. Without the critical eye looking at what we have done, we can only get so far. The critical eye can see the weaknesses that need shoring up, as well as the strengths that maybe should be amplified. It can see what is distracting and needs to be removed.

But that same sharp knife that can be a tool can turn into a weapon that shuts down our creative energy if we do not know how to rein it in properly.

Each needs it's time and place. Creativity is often best served by being unleashed without the critical constraints. Let it go where it wants to go, and play around and explore. Only when it reaches a resting point is it safe to let the critical forces out. Then it is time to step back from your creation, and see it as a product, an output, now removed from you, and ask, "What could be better?" This is not about whether you are an artist who is "good enough". It is about how you, where you are right now, can become better. How your work can become stronger. You are always good enough. But, your work can always be stronger. We never are at a point where our work is "perfect".

So, either alone, or with others, we must critique. Looking to see what worked, and what did not. How to make a piece even stronger than what we have already wrought. Without this important stage, we will never reach our full potential. Once we go through that stage of critiquing, we then need to tell the critical voices that their services are no longer needed for now, and we will call them back when we need them. Then we can get back to work, either reworking, or working anew on this idea that inspired us.

When we try to critique as we create, it is too easy to get caught up in out inadequacies when what we need to be doing, is getting caught up in the creative process. The other problem we often have is making the output of our creativity to be too precious. Our self-esteem becomes deeply entwined into the output. We can't hear the critique in a productive way, if our identity is enmeshed in our work. Our work is our work. It is not us. Some it is will be crap, and some of it will blow us away. We need to accept both for what they are, and learn from both. No one, not even the most amazing artist, whose work you adore, turns out one masterpiece after another. We all have a range. The challenge is to raise the quality overall....the junk is better than it used to be, and the best work gets better.

One of the important lessons I learned from the book Art & Fear, was the value of crappy work. This is when we can have fun. Take that piece that bombed, and have some fun. If you want to lose that sense of preciousness of your work, this is a perfect place to begin. Use those pieces as a place to learn. A place to explore and experiment, and to go places you wouldn't dare under normal circumstances. If you hate it, you can't ruin it. But you can have fun and learn.

The bottom line....The process of creating is precious. Protect it from the critics. The product is just product. It is not precious. It is not us. Let the critics come out and have their say when you are ready to pause. Listen. Notice. See it as a way to learn and grow. And then thank your critics for their input, and tell them to go back in their closet. And get back to having fun creating, testing, playing, experimenting..... Own the process. It is sacred. And control the critics, their weapons can be valuable tools or deadly weapons.

Maybe, This Stuff Works...

Just about five years ago, I started down the path of playing with polymer clay, and not long after, learning everything I could about the business of being in craft. You might think that someone with an MBA, would not need to learn much. But I have never in my life presumed expertise. And, after working in so many industries in the past, I knew I would have to learn what made the business of craft tick.

What have I learned in the last five years? LOTS! Some things the hard way, some the traditional way. But I certainly know more now than I did then. I'll try to summarize a few of those lessons here,

1. Doing matters. In the end, without action, it is nothing. Talk truly is cheap. Acting takes guts and often funds. But without taking action of some sort, nothing happens. And even when things go wrong....there is always an opportunity to learn, or to gain experience. Nothing has ever been a complete waste of my time. A few things came close. But I never came close to making those mistakes again.

2. The most successful are those who are usually just plugging away. You seldom see them complaining about much. Not because they are successful, and have nothing to complain about. No. It seems to me, that more often it is because they see little is gained from the complaint.

Complaining about ignorant or irritating customers, wholesale or retail, seldom does much except allow you to spend more time in a time drain. Complaining about artists who rip off others seldom is a well-spring for creativity. Complaining about how lousy the market is does not help you find new customers.

The successful are not Pollyannas. If anything they are hyper-realists. They realize that the only thing that is going to get them closer to their goals, whatever they might be is themselves. And no amount of complaining ever moved anyone forward. Usually it keeps them firmly planted in place as the rest of the world moves forward.

3. Perfectionism can be a crutch. It can be a way to avoid trying. It can be an excuse for item number 1. Good enough really is good enough. Don't get me wrong, craftsmanship matters. But, there is a line. Cross that line and you will never have anything leave your studio, and you will never be able re-coupe your investment in time if you try to sell your work.

4. Craftsmanship develops best in volume. Make something over and over and over again, and you will learn it and understand it in ways that are not possible in the first, the fifth, or possibly even the 100th piece.

5. Pricing never ever gets easy. You just reach a point of peace. You know you are covering your costs. You know your work will sell at a price. You are not selling it faster than you can make it. An equilibrium of sorts is reached, but it never maintains itself indefinitely.

6. Packaging matters. The best work in the world is enhanced with good marketing support materials. Some sort of packaging that tells your story or presents the work to best advantage will nearly always help sell the work a bit better than without it.

7. Understanding your customer is essential. It will help you answer so many other questions about how to bring your product to market. What shows to do? Pricing. Packaging. Colors. Designs. Where to advertise or publicize.

8. Even in a good market some will fail. Likewise in a lousy market some will succeed. Our success is more often influenced by our own actions than by those of the general climate. Those things matter, but they are not the only factor.

9. The world keeps moving, and so should you. New designs. New markets. New ways of getting your work out into the market. The internet is going to play an integral role as we move forward. If you are reading this you probably already sense this, if not know it and live it. Stay still and you will be left behind.

10. Going it alone is lonely. I love time on my own. But I can't say I would ever have learned as much, or gone as far as I have so far without the company of others.....virtually or in person. That new person at the show that you have been doing for years may know just the web guru that you need. The craftsperson who seems to be able to set up his booth with his eyes closed, because he probably can....will probably have some good advice if you are willing to listen. Sharing your dreams with others may mean that when they see the opportunity that is perfect for you, you will find out. Be a friend and make a friend. Your business will benefit, and so will you.

The title? It seems as if I should be in a lull right now. The economy is faltering. I had a large order with a catalog company cancelled. And yet, I am working like crazy. Orders are coming in. Opportunities dropping in my lap.

Why? Luck, perhaps. But maybe because I am working to stay focused on these essentials. I don't know. But I do know that the more I do that is alignment with the things I profess here, the more success comes my way. I get it wrong, like anyone. But I allow myself the error, and move forward. I hope that you can do the same with your business, and that it brings you the same satisfaction and success. I am looking forward to the lessons that the next five years will bring.

History Lesson

At the recent Synergy Conference, during one of the panel discussions, Elise Winters commented that it would be wonderful if people could see the drawer full of "stuff" that precedes a more fully developed design. Her message was that work does not emerge fully developed. It takes time, trial, error, and a whole lotta ugly sometimes, before a concept reaches a point of "wow".

When I was preparing for my presentation at the conference, I had about 80 artists respond to a survey I put together. One of the comments that stayed with me was about a wish to have kept better records of the development of their work over time. Photos, etc.

Perhaps this is why I felt compelled to spend several hours yesterday, making my own little archive. And as I approach five years of polymer clay addiction, it is probably timely. That, and the fact that I finally had gotten around to setting up a Flickr account.

I highly recommend the journey. While much of the older work is truly cringe worthy, it is also intriguing to me to see patterns emerge. By collecting a selection of images from the hundreds and hundreds on my computer I can see a story. Watching how an idea starts in a rough form, and gradually develops with time. This collection shows some of the development behind my jewelry designs.

When you look at the series of crane pictures, it demonstrate what happens when you do something over and over again. You get better at it. The same can be seen with the vessels.

The earliest work is all over the place. Yet, there are certain things that appealed to me then, and appeal to me still. Who I was as an artist exists within some of that early work. I just couldn't see where I wanted to go with it yet.

In a way it is like any scrapbook of photos. When we look at old pictures of ourselves we cringe at the hairstyles and the fashion. But we also marvel at our youth. Perhaps we looked better than we thought we did at the time. Likewise, I cringed at designs, at finishing, at the photos themselves. But, I also see things there that I still connect with. Or some element that I want to go back and revisit again sometime in the future. Possibilities to still be explored.

I hope, in addition to providing you with a few good laughs, you will also see some of the process of how work emerges and develops. And I hope that you will make your own little archive of your history as an artist. What Elise is doing with her Polymer Art Archives looks at the overall history of the media. Our personal history is full of information as well. Take some time, and look the virtual scrapbook of your work. What patterns emerge? Where have you grown? Is there anything there that you want to revisit and go deeper into?

Artist, Hobbyist, Professional, Amateur....or?

One of the best things about the Synergy conference is that it is generating discussions. Discussions that occurred at the conference, and discussions that are spilling over into the blogosphere. There is one going on right now that began with Susan Lumoto, at Polymer Clay Notes, and was picked up by Libby Mills, at her blog. I feel compelled to jump in.

I have used the words hobbyist and artist in the past to refer to people who create. But who is the hobbyist, and who is the artist? And who gets to decide? Likewise, what makes a person a professional?

Libby's post has caused me to consider when and how I use these terms. I could mean one thing, but someone else might receive it differently than I intended. What do I mean when I say artist? Who is a hobbyist? Are they mutually exclusive? Who is an amateur, and who decides who is a professional?

hob·by 1 /ˈhɒbi/
–noun, plural -bies.
1. an activity or interest pursued for pleasure or
relaxation and not as a main occupation: Her hobbies include stamp-collecting and woodcarving.

art·ist /ˈɑrtɪst/
–noun
1. a person who produces works in any of the arts that are primarily
subject to aesthetic criteria.

2. a person who practices one of the fine arts,
esp. a painter or sculptor.
3. a person whose trade or profession requires a
knowledge of design, drawing, painting, etc.: a commercial artist.
4. a person who works in one of the performing arts, as an actor, musician, or singer; a public performer: a mime artist; an artist of the dance.
5. a person whose work exhibits exceptional skill.
6. a person who is expert at trickery or deceit: He's an artist with cards.
7. Obsolete. an artisan.

according to dictionary.com

According to the dictionary definition, a hobbyist is someone who pursues something for fun or leisure. Yet, we can all think of someone whose hobby consumes their life. The job helps them make a living, but the hobby gives them a reason to get out of bed, or keeps them up late at night.

When I look at the definitions for artist, the verbs used to describe an artist is someone who is producing, practicing, working. There is a certain level of skill or knowledge implied in some of the definitions.

If I think about some of the presentations last week at the Synergy conference, being an artist is about achieving a certain level of workmanship, having a distinctive voice, and perhaps even wanting to tell a story with your work, or make some kind of a statement.

The problem I have with all of this, is I was calling myself an artist well before I reached any of those milestones. Was I wrong to call myself an artist? I certainly did not have the degree. I was not selling my work. My workmanship was not at a level I aspire to today.


Taking on the title of artist for myself, was an act of healing. An act of owning my passion and embracing it fully. It was the realization that someone does not confer the title "Artist" onto you like the Queen confers knighthood. No one taps you on the shoulder with a paintbrush. The title comes from inside. For me, owning the title was the renewal of a journey.

From the time I was a little girl, sitting on the front steps with my pad of paper and pencil drawing a picture, I have been an artist, whether I called myself that or not. Working and working to learn how to do a better job drawing a face, or a tree. I did it because I had to do it.

What about professional versus amateur? In general, whether it is in the arts, or any other area, professionals are paid, amateurs are not. Yet, look at the endorsements recieved by Olympic athletes, who are probably at the peak of their athletic performance. By the rules, they are amateurs, in spite of these endorsements and the paychecks that come along with that. No wonder we get confused by these terms.

For me, when I began to sell my work, I began to look at my work through another set of eyes. I began to ask, "Is this at a quality level that someone would pay for?" Eventually, I saw that having a voice or distinctive style, was something that benefited me in the marketplace. It created a signature to my work. In the production work, a deeper understanding of the material was gained. Time spent working with the clay led to more ideas for me, than sitting down to stare at the empty table, pondering what to make today.

I guess it is not so much about whether or not you are selling your work that makes one a professional. Maybe it is more about embracing the idea of trying to do the best work that you can. Looking with a critical eye at your own work, not to judge your adequacy or inadequacy as an artist, but instead, to see if you can do better. Perhaps it is aspiring to a level of excellence, versus accepting "good enough" as your standard.


My kids are very tall. There was no avoiding this given their genetic make-up. They are at an age where this fact gets pointed out to them regularly by their peers. It occurred to me the other day, as my younger daughter talked about people reacting to her height at a visit to a new school, that the observation is not about the how tall she is. It is about what height seems to represent. Taller equals older, more powerful, in control. Adults can be all those things when you are a kid, and adults are nearly always taller than kids.


When people point out to my daughter that she is taller, they are reacting perhaps to what that represents for them. Is this person older? Is she more powerful? No. Not by virtue of her height at least. But sometimes people have to process a subconscious reaction to her height by pointing it out. She knows she is tall. But the other person has to figure out what that means for them. This is where the need to comment comes from.

Perhaps the need to categorize someone as an artist or hobbyist is more about where we place ourself. It may be a way of saying we have crossed a line that we have established, and by categorizing others, we are trying to say where we fall on the spectrum between hobbyist and artist. Who do we consider to be our peers? But for some, artist may imply someone who takes themselves too seriously. For someone else, hobbyist maybe someone who doesn't take their art seriously enough. But, maybe they are both wrong. Maybe we are the only ones who can decide where we lie on the spectrum. And maybe, we can be both at various times.

I am not sure there is a clear cut way to use these words without potentially stepping on someone's toes. But perhaps thinking about our intent, and why we are using a word is a starting point. And on the receiving end, if it strikes you that someone has implied something with the use of these words that seems misplaced, ask them what they meant. They may not have an answer right off the bat. But at least the question might make them think about it a bit more deeply. Just like Libby made me think. BTW, Libby, I think you are an artist who just happens to not want to have a business selling your work.

Rest, Process and Integrate

I am still trying to process all that happened in Baltimore at the Synergy Conference. There are lots of summaries and reviews everywhere on the web. Since I took so few notes, I am not going to be much help with any details, for those of you who could not make it. But, I can offer some impressions....


1. Energy. There is nothing so electric as more than 200 people in a conference room who are all passionate about the same material. People who are at the forefront of the medium, and people who are virtually brand new. The trip to Baltimore was worth it just to be present in that conference room with all those people.


2. More thoughts on Energy. Synergy was a marathon. There was so much to offer, and so little time to absorb. So many people to connect with. So little time for a real conversation. I ended up skipping three of the seven classes I signed up for. On Monday afternoon I took the afternoon off to work on my presentation for the next day, and then ended up having a lovely conversation with Mari, whom I had not seen since I took a class with Kathleen Dustin back in 2004. No sooner did I leave that conversation, with the intent to head back to the hotel and work on that presentation, and I got snagged for a quick webcast interview. It will be posted on You Tube when it is done, so I will let you know when it is up there.


I eventually did get to the hotel, and did a quick review of my presentation, before I had to head back to the conference center. I missed the preview of the gallery, but it was worth taking a little time out to rest, and to connect.


3. Voice. A big topic at the conference, was finding your voice. This is easier said than done, of course. One reason why I do not take classes anymore, and I only took one, was because I find it is too easy to pick up the "accent" or "dialect" of the instructor.

My brother hated French in high school and struggled with it. He moved to French speaking Quebec after college for several years. He came back home with a French accent. He eventually lost that, but picked up a Boston accent, which he never had growing up in the area. I share this story as an illustration. Some people are very vulnerable to picking up someone's accent without even consciously thinking about it. If I sit down and talk with Leslie Blackford for more than five minutes, I will walk away talking like her for at least the next minute or two. I find her accent enchanting, and musical. I have to stop myself from continuing the charade of speaking like Leslie.


I do not want to carry another artist in my head for too long. Others can stay true to themselves without any problem. It is not easy, and sometimes we have to walk away from temptation.


4. There is nothing like meeting people face to face. Over and over again people exclaimed at putting the face with the name that had become so familiar on-line. Surprises that few "look like their work". "I thought you would be shorter, taller," .....or that the work would be bigger or smaller. I can't think of another time when so many polymer clay artists gathered in one spot and had a chance to meet and greet. Having a face and a voice to put with the name, or the blog, or the message on a forum will enrich connections for many.


5. Getting so many people together and having a conversation about things like workmanship, voice, our history as a medium, and it's influences, and where it is going is a wonderful idea. Opinions may not have changed, but at least we were thinking about it, and looking at our medium as something that can fit into the larger context of craft. It is a wonderful hobby medium since it is so accessible, but it also has the potential to extend far beyond that, and some of the people in that room are pushing those boundaries.


6. I had a blast teaching. This was a bit of a surprise. I found people were engaging, and did a wonderful job of adding to the material I was presenting. So "thank you" to any and all who attended either of my classes. It was fun!


7. Rest, Process, and Integrate. The next days, weeks and months will be about processing, resting and integrating what I learned, saw and heard at Synergy. Things will simmer and perculate in the coming days and weeks I am sure. Resting will have to wait a few more days. I have too many commitments on the calendar for too much rest right now.


8. Self-care. I found myself often needing a bit of time alone or quiet time in the day. Perhaps when you get used to working in isolation most of the time, three long days of classes and socializing is more than can be absorbed. I never made it down to the ACC show in the convention center, which is a shame, since I was right there. The schedule was tight, and when I had a bit of time, the last thing I wanted was more visual stimulation. In the past I would have pushed through and ignored my need for this time, but by skipping a few classes, and spending a bit of time alone, or talking with a friend one-on-one, I was better able to enjoy the moments I chose to participate. We really don't have to "do it all" to get the most out of an experience.


9. The "wow" of the new. Over and over, I heard exclaimations of excitement about Kathleen Dustin's new work, Ford + Forlano's new work, and I was excited to see new work from Judy Kuskin. Even when an artist has a strong, recognizable style, such as these polymer clay luminaries, it is important to continue to explore new terrain. Many others had new work at the show as well. Loretta Lam talked about developing several new lines of work before she headed to the Rosen show in Philadelphia, and what a wonderful response it received. This is the "continuous improvement" of the artrepreneur. What have you done lately?


Time to get the butt back in the studio chair. I missed my studio, and my family. It is good to be home.

Thank you to the extremely hard working people who put together, and managed to pull off an incredible event. Kudos all around.

Using Your Camera as a Design Tool

When I am working on laying out a new piece, particular if it is large, involved, or a new design, I find that it is a process of simmering, tasting and adjusting. I start out with a general idea, and begin to layout the components for the design. I will get to a certain point and feel like it has to sit with me for awhile. I don't feel certain enough about where I am going to move ahead without some time and space. Time for things to simmer. Some things end up sitting for months! Never getting to a point where I feel like I have a clear direction to resolve whatever it is that feels unresolved for me.

Sometimes I will ask the opinions of my husband or kids, but that rarely helps me work out those ones that just feel "off". I think it may be they don't always have a vocabulary to express why they like or don't like something. It is usually a yes or no, or they respond to an area that I feel more certainty about already.

Recently, I have begun to use my camera to evaluate a piece. I have found that I see things in a photo that are not as apparent to me when I am working with a piece on the table.

While these two photos show essentially the same necklace, there is a difference in how the pods are aligned on each one. The piece on the far left was my first attempt. I wasn't really satisfied with it, but I couldn't tell you why. But after I took a picture, I found I was not happy with how the beads that are on the inner part of each pod seemed to create a line, that to my eye, detracted from the pod forms. When I have arranged them this way, and they were all the same color, it has worked better, but here, I was not satisfied with the outcome. After playing around with the piece, and realigning the pod components, I found it was closer to my inspiration, ....the ocean. It had more of the feel and energy of waves and tumbling water....at least to my eyes! Design is subjective. What appeals to me, may be less appealing to someone else. But in this case, I knew I was less satisfied with the first arrangement than with the second. But it wasn't until I took a picture that I could clearly see what it was that was bothering me with the first attempt.

Similarly, I was planning on creating a collar style necklace with the shibori beads. I began to select colors and beads, and lay them out on my table. The top picture is the first iteration.

I took a picture, and then rearranged the beads so that the ones that were towards the back came to the front, and the ones in the center front went back. After looking at the pictures, I decided I didn't like either one. In the second arrangement, I found that the beads in the center were too drab and flat, especially for the position. But the two areas of light yellow beads about collarbone level in the first arrangement bothered me as well. The created a sense of discontinuity for me. My eye would be drawn there, and get stuck.

Plan B...or perhaps C? I got rid of the drab beads, and added more of the lighter colored beads. Both lines of beads were going from light to dark now, but the end point has less contrast in value and color. I abandoned the idea of a collar style necklace, and decided to create a kinetic shibori bead necklaces, that would be more wearable.

It is now a long strand, about 36" total length, but joined together so that the wearer can decide which color will lay where. Perhaps the lighter colors towards the front in the warmer months, and darker in the cooler months. Or in between for those hard to decide days! The beads have a small blue lace agate bead as a spacer.

Hammer and Nail

Have you heard the expression, "if the only tool you have is a hammer, everything starts to look like a nail"? I think if you immerse yourself deeply enough into your media, the world starts to get translated by what you can do with that medium.

Today I went to the first day of my print making class. I have been interested in printmaking for a long time, but it never seemed to come together. Either the class was cancelled due to low enrollment, or the timing didn't work with my schedule. I am excited about the possibilities of playing around with this new process. It can't be too surprising that I was quickly jumping to the conclusion that I could create print plates with polymer clay. :-)

I find the books I buy, and the classes I am most interested in taking are seldom ones that are directly about polymer clay. There is something about exploring a new media and the ways in which it is used that makes me rethink my familiar ground.

It is like when you travel to a new place. The sights, sounds, smells, tastes, colors are all new. There is so much to take in. It heightens your awareness. When you get back to familiar, and comfortable ground, some of the new is bound to seep in. There is a new appreciation for that home ground, but there is also a fresh perspective, a new insight. For me, this idea of looking in unfamiliar places is the best way to keep my creative juices flowing.

I may just end up playing for several weeks with this new process. And I don't know which way the influence will go.....will polymer clay influence my printmaking process, or will printmaking influence my polymer clay work? Either way, I am looking forward to this creative holiday. I be sure to share some of what I create along the way.

The Idea that Won't Go Away

Have you ever had an idea for something, something so big, so impossible, that you want to be able to just walk away from it? I have had just such an idea for about two years now. And every time it comes up, I think, "Well that's silly. How in the world would you make that happen?" And I move on. At least for a while.

What seems to happen, is that the idea keeps resurfacing. And each time it takes on a little more substance. In the last few days, it has gotten bones. A structure. It doesn't look quite so impossible. Or so outlandish.

Now this is one of those "BIG" ideas. What some people call a BHAG. A Big, Hairy, Audacious Goal. It means stepping into completely unfamiliar territory to make it happen. It means it has been hard for me to wrap my head around how I could possibly make it happen.

But then, at the same time, I know that others have done things that are comparable. Knowing this doesn't mean it is easy, or that it will ultimately be doable by me. But it does mean that it is possible. And if it is possible, and it keeps coming back to me, perhaps I need to take it seriously.....and in the process, take myself seriously too.

Isn't that what we are doing when we have an Impossible Dream. We may want to believe it is impossible. It means it just can't be done. Because then we can comfortably walk away. But each time this dream comes up for me, I know, somewhere in the back of my mind, that others have done comparable things. It is possible, and it is not going away. But, I have just not been ready. And that is where the truth lies. Having these dreams means stretching outside what is familiar and known. Holding on to them means we want to see if we can make them happen someday. We recognize our current limitations, but we are not silly to dream these dreams. Even if we dare not admit the details of our dreams to anyone!

As this idea is taking a more concrete form in my head over the last few days, I am seeing various pieces of things that have been out there floating around as vague ideas, starting to coalesce. It still feels pretty impossible. But I also feel like I want to start to push the idea from an idea into becoming something more tangible.

I am researching things like installations, venues, fundraising, grants. The actual art work is completely within my capabilities, although it will be time consuming, and I may need to enlist some help because of the simple scale of this idea. How to take this idea, this thought, and make it into a reality is the challenge. It may never happen. But I am going to begin to take some steps to try to make it work.

My first step is to write this here. To admit to myself and the world, that I am ready and willing to begin to explore this new territory. The details of the dream are less important than this shift that has happened in me. That is where our greatest barriers often lie. Inside. I will admit to being scared, and overwhelmed. But, I have to say there is also a certain amount of glee and sheer excitement about simply saying "yes". Yes, this is worth exploring. This is worth investing some time and energy to see where you can take it. Wish me luck! And if you know of any grant money around.....

Does Being in Business Make You a Better Artist?

I am teaching a class at the Synergy conference in Baltimore next month, called "Should I, or Shouldn't I?" The class is about how to decide whether or not you should try and make money with your craft. In preparation for that class, I sent out some surveys to various artists to get a sense of how being in or out of the business side of art has affected them. What did they learn? What did they wish they knew? How do they make money with their art/craft?

I received an e-mail back from Elise Winters that was full of insight. One of the things she said that has had me thinking all week is that is that sometimes artist believe that they must be in business to be taken seriously as artists. It is Elise's belief that sometimes, the business can become a diversion to developing as an artist.

The subtitle of my blog, "the collision of business and art" implies that there is not always a comfortable alliance between these two worlds of commerce and creation. Many firmly believe that you cannot be true to your art, and be successful in business. I guess I would like to believe that there are no hard and fast rules in this regard. In fact, while being in business did not make me a more authentic artist, it did help me develop as an artist in other ways.

For one thing, it got me in the studio on a regular (daily) basis. And I absolutely believe that you must spend time in the studio to develop you skills, and to develop your voice. Neither of those happen without time in the studio. You can hone other skills, like your powers of observation, without being in the studio. But ultimately your hands need to connect with your medium. You need to be able to know intuitively the limits of your medium. You don't learn this by reading about it, or by spending a few hours a week creating. You learn it by getting your hands dirty.

It also forced me to pay attention to details. Details that are often referred to as finish. Present your work to a gallery owner, or at a craft show, and the first thing someone does is pick it up and start turn it this way and that. Inspecting the finish. How does the back look? How does it feel? How does it fasten? What types of materials are you using? It is easy to ignore these details when you are starting out. Stopping work on a project before attending to these details. Hoping no one will notice that glob of glue on the back that you used to attach the pin back. Under the scruntiny of another person's eyes, you will look more critically at your own work.

But business can become a trap. You can find financial success with work, and get stuck in that style for too long. Long past the time that the public interest has peaked, and your own inspiration has faded. You may find yourself looking too much to external sources of inspiration....fashion, someone else's success....rather than internally to your own creative well spring.

Time spent building a business can be time out of the studio. If you want to create "art" for "art's sake", selling your work can be a distration. But financing that pursuit might be a bit more challenging.

In my own case, I had been looking around for what I was going to be doing in my life. I was half-heartedly trying to enter the world of children's book publishing. So when polymer clay fell into my lap, and I fell in love with the possibilities of this medium, I was soon thinking that I wanted to figure out how I could do this as a business. I had already run a business. I had a business background. I didn't know what form the business might take. But I knew that eventually that was my goal. Perhaps as someone who has a degree in business, and not in art, it was more comfortable terrain.

But first, I had to learn as much as I could about what I could do with this material. At one point my husband referred to this time, and money, spent on experimenting and learning as my art school tuition. I guess you could say I was "home schooled in art". A business professor might have looked at this time as one of research and product development. I probably dove into the world of commerce prematurely. But, as many have said before me, I would rather regret the action taken, than the opportunity passed. And once I dove in, I learned far more than I would have continuing to work away on my own. Even if what I learned was that I was not ready for prime time yet!

It is a delicate balancing act, juggling commerce and creation. And each person has their own tipping point where things go too far one way or another. We must know what our own motivations and goals are before we know if we are in balance.

If your in my class in Baltimore, I have much more wisdom from Elise and others to share. I hope I see you there!

"How Did You Think of That?"

Or, "Where did you get that idea?" I have heard those questions often. And usually the answer is so mundane or ordinary, I am sure it is less than satisfying for those posing the question. But it is the reality.

The ideas are out there everywhere, all around us. What is important is honing your ability to notice and pay attention to the inspiration that surrounds you. Kim Cavender quotes Grant Diffendaffer in her blog.

"Making something you have never imagined will greatly increase your ability to imagine things you have never made, and then go on to make them."

Kathleen Dustin talks in her blog about being inspired by tall grasses in the wind to create a fabulous new purse design. As she says in her blog entry, she sees her job as an artist is one of paying attention.

So many times I have come upon a good idea, on the way to something else. Something unexpected catches my eye. If I had not learned to pause at this moment, the inspiration would have disappeared into the ether, gone for good most likely.

I think I have always been someone who just can get caught up in the simple act of observation. I can destract myself from the discomfort of dentistry by "analyzing" the ceiling, or some other thing within my view. I used to take a bus back and forth to school when I was in business school. I remember passing the time on the ride by doing drawings in my head. I would study the back of someone's head as if I was trying to draw it. Noticing shadows and details. The wrinkles on the neck. The hair, or shape of a head. When I was following the exercises in The Artist's Way, and writing my "pages", I would sometimes write what I saw out the window, especially the sky. I would try to describe the color and light as best I could in words. Here are a few of those excerpts;

"I can hear the birds outside this morning since the windows are open. It is such a different scene outside the window now compared to the winter. Green leaves everywhere. There are only tiny bits of sky visible between the leaves. Even the tree trunks are partially or largely obscured by the leaves. The leaves cause the sunlight coming in the window to dance."

"The sky is a hard silvery blue right now. There is a small band of peach colored sky along the northwest horizon. It is getting darker out as I sit here writing this. It looks more like evening than morning."

Do you give yourself the time to pause and reflect when something catches your eye. You may stop for half a second. But do you then think about what it is that made you stop?

What if this power of observation is not something that you have honed quite yet? If you want to work on this ability to notice, I recommend spending a few minutes every day observing one thing, the same thing, everyday, and try to put into words what you have seen. The sky is great because it is always changing. But pick the same time each day, and you will incorporate the passage of time into your observations as well. Days lengthening or shortening will change the quality of the light.

Have you ever seen those film clips on YouTube of photos that people take of themselves each day? The pictures flash by, with clothes and hair changing, but little else. Glasses seem to float on the face as they move around just a bit each day. If writing is not your thing, maybe you could do a portrait each day of a spouse, yourself or your pet. They don't have to be super refined or finished. Just the same thing, every day. If you do this for a month, you will find yourself noticing things by the end of that month that you never saw before.

Learning to pay attention takes practice. And once you are paying attention, it won't automatically translate into a new body of work. It may mean that you will start to find inspiration in the ordinary and everyday. It really is out there for all of us to access. We just have to notice.

Competitive Advantage

In business school, especially in marketing, there is a lot of talk about competitive advantage. Positioning yourself or your product to achieve competitive advantage in the market place. In the world of art or craft, no one uses words like that. But, an issue that is always able to stir up interest actually may be all about competitive advantage.

Voice. Your creative voice. In the end, finding your own voice, your style, your own unique way of expression is ultimately the best way to create competitive advantage.

Let's step away from art or craft for a minute, and talk about cola, or tissues, or diapers. Do you think of Coke(TM), Kleenex(TM), or Pampers(TM)? Each of these companies created an identity so strong for their products, that their brand name is virtually synonymous with the product name. Certainly, we can all name products that compete with each of these businesses, but they do not spring to mind as quickly as these.

Back to the world of art. Vincent Van Gogh, Monet, Andy Warhol, Jackson Pollack. Do you get an immediate visual image with each of these names? I do. These artist each have a voice that is strong and recognizable, that in business terms could be called brand identity.

When I started out selling my work, my focus was on technique. I thought it was all about being good at doing something. Well, that only carries you so far. What truly creates competitive advantage in the business of craft is having a distinctive voice. Kim Cavender is actually running a contest right now that is all about this very thing. Identify the artist for the images shown in her blog post.

By developing a strong and distinctive voice, you will not only have your work become recognizable, but, anyone copying your work will be seen as doing just that. There are painters who are masterly at creating technically accurate copies of another artists work. And much can be learned in that process. But, it is the difference between Coke, and the store brand cola. It will never have the same perceived value in the broader market as the original. Sure, there are plenty of people who might be very satisfied with a brilliantly executed copy at a reduced price. But, will the copyist every reach the same degree of satisfaction in the creation of the work as the originator? And, it will never be valued as highly as the work of the originator.

This past weekend, I attended an open house for a school we are looking at for my younger daughter. This school is very unique in it's approach and philosophy. It follows the guidelines of an essential school. Students do not get letter grades. They build a portfolio of work. They get a narrative assessment of their work. And they are evaluated on a gradient of learning....a learning curve if you will. Everyone starts out as "Just Beginning". You are not expected to master the work when you are just beginning. Mistakes are welcome. They are part of the learning process. Things are learned with practice and experience. Eventually, typically over a period of two years, a student will reach a point of mastery, where expectations are met, and they are ready to move onto a higher level.

When we start our in our craft or our artwork, we are just beginning. We practice and refine our skills by copying that which has come before us. Eventually, we may tire of a technique we master, and then move onto another technique and master that. I recently heard an interview with Nick Lowe, the musician, who described this process beautifully. He talked about how as a musician learn, they mimic the work of other musicians whose work they admire. There is something in that artist's work they connect with. Then they move onto another artist, and another, and another. But at some point, they stop looking outside to learn. They take the pieces that they have learned, and start taking parts of them and putting them together in new and different ways. It is not always about reinventing as much as rethinking. Combining things together in a way that others may not have explored. Taking the pieces that speak to your heart, and inspire you, and putting them together in a way that feels right for you.

I think this quote from Marc Chagall sums it up nicely,

"If I create from the heart,
nearly everything works.
If I create from the head,
almost nothing."

Where are you on the continuum of just beginning to mastery? Have you begun to discover your competitive advantage?