Sublte Shifts

About a month ago, I began working with a personal trainer. We meet every week or two for about a half an hour. I needed someone to be accountable to in order to make sure I would get myself to the gym on a regular basis. One of the downsides of working at home is that there is that it is too easy to stay home! Getting myself out of the house and to the gym has been a challenge. For three weeks this summer, I made it to the gym about four days a week, in large part because I was out of the house already bringing my daughter to camp each morning. It was easier. But when camp ended, I needed to create something that would motivate me to keep it up long enough to build the exercise habit into my life again. Thus, the personal trainer.

Linda, my trainer, is terrific. One of the things she does each time we meet, and with each exercise I perform, is to monitor my body position. Posture and body position are as important as repetitions and level of exertion. It is important in order to make sure the right muscles are engaged, and to reduce the risk of injury. I find myself throughout the day, at the gym, walking the dog, or just walking down the street, checking in. Knees soft, abdomen tight, pelvis tucked, rib cage lifted, shoulders back, and head up. From knees up to my head, small adjustments as I move my body into proper position.

What I have noticed, as I make these shifts, is that they affect how I look, how I move, and....surprisingly to me, how my knees feel, and my balance. I am left with a sense of discovery. So this is how it feels to be more coordinated or athletic in how you move through the world. As someone who never felt coordinated or athletic in any way, and I still don't,...there is a better sense of what it must be like.

And, it brings me to my point. The power of making subtle shifts. What makes the difference between the work of an artist that knocks your socks off, and someone who has not yet reached that level of mastery? I propose that it is small and subtle things, that cumulatively end up in a place that is refined, balance, and complete, in a way that other work is not.

The master has learned the nuances of the material. How to adjust there pressure just so, to accomplish with ease what they set out to do. That nuanced sensitivity takes time and hands on effort to develop. It does not come with the first time you sit down and do something. It is entirely possible to do most things adequately at first. But to master it, it takes an attention to details and nuances that are not seen by the amateur. It takes an understanding of when and how best to finish a piece. It takes a strong sense of design and balance. An ability to edit.

All these things may happen in almost an unconscious manner with a master of their craft. They are taken into consideration as they move through the process of creation. At one point, they were done with effort and concentration. And there is still effort, but it becomes second nature, and full anticipation of where they are going and what must be done. My goal in the gym is for those positions and movements to become second nature. And in the studio, I continue to learn about how to move my work to a place were it is fully balanced and aligned.

What do you think? Have you seen your work develop in a way that reflects an increased understanding of material, process, design, or finish? Are you integrating that understanding into your approach to design, and material? Does it give you a sense of accomplishment?

If not, maybe it is time for some focus on the essentials in the studio. Where do you need more attention? What are your weaknesses? Do you need someone to help you reach your goals?

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!

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?

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.

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?

Chess Anyone??

It is my youngest daughter's birthday today. She is 12 years old, and she is a terrific kid. She is a voracious reader. Some of her favorite books are about dragons, or about fantasy. Tarmar Pierce's books, or the Dragonology books. She is currently reading Stephanie Meyer's Twilight series.

This summer she learned to play chess, and was pretty good at it, and enjoyed it. So when I went away for a week long retreat in August, I decided to take these two interests, and create a very special chess set for her birthday. I finished all the pieces, but one king, and one queen, while I was there. I tried to make a board for her, but it did not work out as planned, and will need to be revisited when I have a bit more time. But I have a beautiful wood chess board that my dad had made. He never made the pieces to go with the board, so this works out nicely.

I have not done much sculpting with polymer clay, so the task was a little bit intimidating at first. But, since this was not something I was selling, and I knew no matter what I did, she would appreciate it, it took away a lot of the pressure.

If you ever decide to do a chess set, I can share a bit of what I learned. Some of it along the way, and some of it from the wisdom of Maureen Carlson, who has made a few chess sets, and is a whiz at sculpting with polymer clay.

1. Figure out a design theme, or concept. Your pieces can be figures, or abstract. In my case, with fantasy as the theme, I knew right away that I was going to make the knights as dragons. The bishops became wizards, and the pawns were either toadstools or cauldrons, depending on if it was the side of dark or light.

2. Figure out how you are going to distinguish one side from the other. You can go with the classic black and white, or other contrasting colors and/or tones. I decided to make one side black, white and grey. And the other side colorful.

3. Size matters. there is a hierarchy to the sizes of chess pieces, and you want your pieces to conform to that hierarchy so that a player will not be confused as the pieces becomes scattered on the board in play. The king and queen are the tallest pieces, followed by the bishops, knights, rooks and pawns.

4. Balance and Space. The pieces are moved around in play, and for that to happen easily there are two things to consider. The pieces have to be well balanced so they do not easily topple over during play. I found making a base on many of the pieces helped with the balance, and the ease of sliding a piece on the board in play.

The pieces also need to stay within their own geography, vertically. This tip from Maureen was a huge help. You need to consider the size of the squares right from the beginning, and then make sure that your pieces do not extend outside that space, not just at the base, but extending vertically upward.

5. Make all of a particular pieces at one time. If you are making the bishops, work on all of them together. This will help you make sure they are uniform in size and in construction. I did find that my abilities to sculpt improved as a worked through a series of pieces. The last wizard I sculpted is the one both my daughters fell in love with. Even though I did not finish the last king and queen until nearly two months later, I made the basic body form and head at the same time as the completed ones. I knew that they were going to be the right size. I saved some of the clay used for the head to make my arms and hands so that they would match the face. So when it came time to finish, I just had to make the robes, hair, crown, arms, and base. All things that were either easy enough to replicate, or had room for variation.

6. Break a few rules! This is my own personal rule. My pawns are different designs on each side. And the cauldrons break the color rule by having a yellow green brew bubbling inside. But both sets are similar in size, and each set of pawns stays with the fantasy theme. In the end, it works. If I had forced myself to come up with an idea that would work in both black and white, and in color, I doubt I would have been as satisfied with the end result. And that lime green brew is just so perfect!

It was fun to go outside the work I usually do, and play with sculpting a bit. Most of us start out with this sense of play and exploration in our medium, but we can sometimes lose touch with that. Making a gift for family or friends is always a way to play again, and go outside our usual comfort zone. And the hug I got this morning was worth all the time spent on the project!

Voice and Creation

Last week there was a great deal of discussion about making a technique that you learn from another your own. As might be expected, there really was no clear agreement.

First off, it requires an encyclopediac knowledge of who did what first, which can not always be known. There are always cases of synchronistic creation. Two or more people creating work that has a great deal in common, without one knowing of the other. The whole discussions invites the question, how different does your work have to be to be considered to be your own? If you learn a technique from an artist whose work is well known, there may always be elements of their technique that are recognizable. Is changing a palette enough, or changing the way you are using the technique? Or is it a matter of changing subject matter or form?

This is a discussion that will always draw people in, but will never be one for which there is universal agreement. One person may focus on the similarities, while another will see the differences. The first person who figured out that you could imitate the millefiore techniques of glasswork in polymer clay did not in turn own that technique. The first person who layered a piece of pottery with a different color clay, and then carved out a design did not own that technique. The artists of the Impressionist period had similarities in their technique that were very different than artists that preceded them. Does this mean they copied one another, or were they merely inspired by one another?

After being involved in, or on the periphery of several of these conversations, I had to smile when I read the following quote on Alyson Stanfield's Art Biz blog this morning...

From Elizabeth Murray, who recently passed away:
''Everything has been done a million times. Sometimes you use it and it's yours; another time you do it and it's still theirs.''

I think that is the most clear and succinct summary of this connundrum. On some level we are all tweaking the same ideas that have been done again and again. Yet at the same time, we are trying to bring our own personal interpretation to that repetition.

Last week, I had the good fortune to sit in a demonstration by Leslie Blackford about how to make her nightlights. I also was lucky enough to sit very near her, and be able to look over and watch her pieces evolve. It was like watching a story unfold. Leslie has clearly found her voice. And the enthusiasm her work recieves is in large part, I believe, because of the authenticity of that voice.

During the demo, Leslie spoke about a piece of advice she often gives people when they are trying to create an animal. She tells people to emphasize the feature that is distinctive to that animal. So on an elephant, it might be the ears and trunk, on a rabbit it might be the ears. With this emphasis, it is easier to create a recognizable form.

What if, when we try to adopt a technique, or a subject matter that has been done again and again....what if, we applied that same idea? Emphasis on whatever it is that draws us to it? Could that be the way to move toward our own independent interpretation?

Honestly, I don't know. But I do know it is something worth thinking about. Figuring out what it is about our work we need to emphasize, exaggerate perhaps. Magnifying, amplifying, making more apparent that which we are trying to communicate in our work. Dropping away all that is not part of who we are and what we are trying to say. I'd love to hear what you have to say about all of this. How do you find your way?

How and When to Share??

How much information should you share about your process? Should you share anything about it at all? What are the potential risks? And are their times and places when you can and should avoid answering the how-to questions? I am not sure exactly who I am addressing these thoughts to...artists, or people who want to learn about an artist's process. A post today by Libby Mills touched on this issue, and as I was thinking about the response it has generated I found myself writing....

1. Be aware. It can be frustrating to an artist when someone comes into their booth at a show and asks question after question about the process and technique.....ignoring the fact that potential customers are coming....and perhaps going.....while this conversation is happening. It is expensive to do a show. And most artists will happily talk to any and all visitors about their work and their process. But there is a flow to the sales process. And time spent going into the minutea of a technique is time not spent selling. Meanwhile the person who has buttonholed your attention has no intention of purchasing a thing. There is plenty of downtime at a show, when traffic is slow when time could be more easily spent talking shop and answering questions.

2. It is never as easy as it seems. I have shared many details about how I create my cranes over the years. Even with this information, most people find out it is easier to describe than it is to do. I had one of those people visit my booth at the Guilford show last week. Last year I had explained the process to them. They were grateful that I shared so much information with them. But this year, they were buying a crane. They had tried to make one themselves.....and found out that there is more to it than it seemed at first. Ihave folded somewhere in the neighborhood of 2000 cranes now. There is a lot learned in that number. But the first cranes required persistence, belief and desire. Without that, I never would have made it to the current neighborhood.

3. Purchasing is like voting. When you buy another artists work you are in a sense voting for them. Saying I want you to be able to pursue your dream. I like what you do, and I want you to continue to do it. This is true for music, art or books or any other creative endeavor. Sadly, we live in a society that seems to encourage the attempts to avoid paying the creator for their creations. Whether it is music that is shared without the artist getting paid. Or books that are put on websites for people to read without purchasing. Or people copying another artist's designs rather than buying the original. It seems like we think because creative people enjoy their work, that may well be compensation enough. Doing work that you love is rewarding. But there are still bills to be paid. And when you are doing it as a business, a surprisingly large amount of time is spent in the mundane of running a business.

4. If you love to share what you have learned, teach classes. Get paid for sharing some of what you know. Your time and knowledge are worth something. But be aware that once you teach a technique, you will see yourself in many variations in many places. You need to have peace with that, or you should not teach. And if you want to learn more about a technique or process....take a class! Pay to learn that information. Support the creative journey of the artist.

Bottom line. It is fine to ask questions. But don't feel offended if an artist sets limits. And artists, don't be afraid to say no, or not now, not in this setting. The balance between being someone who is generous and sharing, and recognizing that you are in business is a delicate one. Sometimes knowledge is your company's primary asset. It is fine to be protective.

Another Blog??!!

Yes, I am starting another blog...! It is called Studio Miscellanea. This one is specific to polymer clay, and probably the occasional metal clay post. It will be tips, tricks and ideas I learn in my studio, playing with the clay that I would like to share with others. I don't expect to post as often on that blog, but I like the immediacy of this format. I can put up a tutorial without a lot of fuss and bother. The photography is not always going to be top notch. But it should be enough to get the technique or idea across.

My first post is one on doing a mokume gane variation using scrap clay. It is a great way to recycle those bits of clay from making a cane, or from cane ends, or the bits and pieces left form a project of some sort. The only consideration is if the colors can be combined in a pleasing combination.

I hope you enjoy this new blog, and pick up a few tips and tricks along the way.