Works in Progress

It's hard to wrestle with creativity without sounding like I am complaining, but I really am trying to focus on just figuring out the problem and then figuring out a fix.  The fact that I share my studio space with the litter box isn't helping my concentration!

Yesterday I found a figurative piece dated 1999.  It was a dreadful experiment with a fun colored body, but a nasty color of polymer clay and a sad experiment using a face mold with Friendly Plastic.  What an abomination.  I tossed the faceless head and removed the extremities, adding the body to the other two I made some time ago.  Then I stopped.  I'm having a tough time making the effort to make the sculpted parts because I just plain stink at it.  What now?  I need to practice, but it feels like practicing driving without ever having had instruction and hoping I don't run up a tree.  I've read books, watched videos and perused the web for help.  At this point, it's clear that I have to actually smoosh clay and try, try, try more than I have before until I get it right.  Watching and reading will not improve my skills.

Friendly Plastic using facial mold

Scary head without the face

This combo does NOT work!  What was I thinking?!?

Is art this hard for everyone?  I see so many prolific artists, some of whom make an enormous amount of art in a short period of time.  Tomorrow I'll be a "football widow," so I can work away in the stinky studio and see what I can come up with, focusing on having fun being creative without insulting myself in my head.  I have three bodies to finish and hope to tackle at least one.

Waking Up the Sleeping Artist-Wannabe

I've been struggling with cooties since Christmas Eve, finally able to talk and be heard, though still coughing up camels and tumbleweeds in my sleep.  Yuck.  Since I'm feeling better, I figured it was time to do some chores as well as follow through on my commitment to getting into art again.  It's hard when I've battled with a blank brain for so long, both in terms of just thinking clearly with this bug and with thinking "art" when I've been so uninspired and feeling dusty and stagnant.

My cyber friend Mary has been posting photos of the products of her creative energies on Facebook, reminding me that we can spend a little time and make a little something without the need to create a full-blown masterpiece.  Attempting to follow suit, I cleaned out a bit of junk in my studio space, cleaned off the surface of my desk and started rummaging through unfinished work to find inspiration and motivation.  I found the bits of one of my very small art dolls I made YEARS ago and decided to put them together in a fashion a little different than I've been doing for so long, using a thick cotton embroidery floss instead of the clear fine thread (which I've found grows brittle and breaks).  While I was wrestling with the needle and thread, my daughter's boyfriend passed through the room and said, "Are you making Voodoo dolls?"  I laughed and told him that no, not exactly, though I suppose it could serve that purpose.

As always, I struggle with issues as simple as posting a photograph of my artwork.  Can I take the criticism that may come with it?  If I were confident, I'd worry that someone were going to try to copy my style, then I laugh at myself and say, "Really?  It's too weird."  Do I post photos just to work on getting past the fear of wrinkled noses and squinty looks of people trying to figure out what the heck it is that I make?  Ugh, it's exhausting being such a fraidy cat.

I'm going to get past this fear and post pics (as soon as I get the stupid card reader problem resolved on my computer so that I can post a decent photo and full body shot.

The little guy I worked on today is 9" long from head to toe.  He's leaning on my cup-o-junk while the wires in his head settle down with the glaze I used to give it a bit more stability.  I'm using my Wacom Bamboo tablet to try out different versions of painted facial details before I call him finished.  It isn't a masterpiece by any stretch of the imagination, but I feel like I'm dusting off and warming up.

To scoop or sew? Scrub or paint?

I often wonder if my son inherited his easily distracted nature from me.  A cat walking by or the sight of something shiny is often all it takes to get him off task.  What's my excuse?  There's that magazine that came in the mail that I started to put with all of the others, realizing I hadn't read it and looking through it instead of putting it away.  Time wasted.  I see the cat barfed on the carpet.  Again.  Gotta clean that up.  Someone put their dirty dishes on the counter instead of in the dishwasher.  Pick that up, see that salt is spilled around the stove, clean that up, see the trash is full, take it out, pass by the litter box...do they do anything other than barf and poop?  Clean that up.  Uh oh, it's nearing 5:00 and I haven't got anything planned for dinner (because I hate cooking), so now it's time for a quick trip to the store.  On and on and on come and go the distractions and excuses and the wasted time.

The call to be creative has quieted in my head and that worries me.  Does the urge to be creative wane as the act of being creative becomes less often exercised?  How do I get motivated to be creative again?  Is creativity akin to playing an instrument, so that the more I practice the better I get and the more ideas flow?

Next week family arrives to celebrate Christmas with us, visiting our new home for the first time.  I've spent days trying to get better organized and tidy so that they see the house, not the contents.  While putting things in their proper place (or just trying to figure out that proper place) and tidying up, I stumbled on a tiny object that my cyber mentor and friend made for me, and it got me thinking about the choices I make in terms of how I spend my time.  In response to my frustration with a damaged snoot on one of my sculpted faces, Debbie told me about an epoxy clay I could use to mend said snoot.  She sent me a bit to try, in addition to this little sculpture about the size of a dime, two faces made of the two colors, as a demonstration piece.  I treasure this little piece of art and have it at my work desk as a reminder that even something as small as offering a bit of information can be done creatively and something can be created in a short amount of time.  How I wish I had her talent and creative soul!  Inspiration strikes again. 

Now to do something with that inspiration.

It's time to put the plan I've blithered on about into action.  Make something.  Schedule art time.  Pick up a piece of clay and start a new art doll.  Bind a quilt.  Do something.  Make something.

In an effort to do and not just talk, I'm cancelling plans to attend a party tonight.  When people ask me what I do, I want to be able to say I'm an artist, not a time-wasting wanna be.  Gotta go get my hands dirty.  Gotta channel the spirit of Debbie.

Happy Birthday to Me!

I just had the most wonderful and refreshing vacation in Hawaii!  It was such a shock to come home to people wearing jackets and boots (Wimps!  So Cal isn't THAT cold). 

For the first time ever, we found ourselves at a relatively empty resort on the Big Island of Hawaii, about a half hour drive north of the airport on Kona.  The day we arrived, we zipped into Kona to rent prescription snorkle masks (we're blind as bats) and those snorkels that keep the waves from washing down and gagging you on salt water.  Then, we made our usual trip to the big K-Mart store to get a full sized coffee pot and a few other things.  The prices the resorts charge for a single carafe of coffee is equal to the purchase price of a Mr. Coffee machine.  We're no dummies!  We brought our own Starbucks espresso and were ready to go.  We got some Halloween decorations for the room, some silly touristy coffee mugs, some wine and a bottle opener.  As we were about to unload the cart at the cash register, the power went out.  The store went dark, and their backup generator wouldn't kick in, so after a bit of a wait, everyone just abandoned their carts and left.  Oh well.

How exciting to find that the spot I'd tagged on Facebook as "my spot," a photo I'd snagged from the hotel web site, was actually available for the entire week!  I have never seen a resort so sparsely populated.  I met some awesome people, made nice with the hotel kitty, Aloha, and had a spectacular time snorkeling.  The first day, we swam with at least 15 green sea turtles, as many as four at once.  Beautiful!

This is me sitting in "my spot" at around 5 p.m.  We had the beach to ourselves every evening!

The view from our lanai in the morning.  

The trip ended with a good laugh.  The poor tourists that come from Japan for the first time didn't seem to notice the flocks of myna birds at the roof edge, watching for people to abandon their tables with food on their plates.  They brought the first plate load of breakfast, turned and left to go get more, at which time the birds bombed the table.  Several of us were waving the birds off with our napkins, laughing as the biggest myna bird grabbed a blob of ketchup-covered scrambled eggs the size of a tennis ball and tried to fly with it.  We were all laughing that the guests had to be "first day newbies."  The waiter came to the table, chuckled and said, "rookies" under his breath and cleaned up the mess.  The look on their faces when they came back to the table was priceless.  They didn't understand a word of English when everyone was trying to tell them what happened, but the waiter knew the Japanese word for "bird."  They understood that one.  I don't think they'll do it again.  This scene plays out pretty much daily, but everyone has a good sense of humour about it.

My husband was wonderful and threw a little private party for me.  He had managed to pack a tablecloth, my birthday gifts and gift bags and set it all up with an ice bucket and bottle of wine while I was getting ready for dinner.  I received a few goodies from my "wish list" and enjoyed a glass of wine during sunset before we zipped off to dinner at the restaurant you can almost see behind him.  Our table was located at the edge of the seating area, right near the beach where we could watch the sea turtles come up onto the rocky shoreline for bedtime.  What a beautiful way to end the day.

We returned home the day after the terrible shooting incident at LAX, grateful that it wasn't any worse and feeling particularly lucky.  It is so much colder here, but we still have a bit of a tan to remind us of our relaxing week.  Life is good.

Getting Down to Business

In an effort to take more control of my life and my own happiness, I have been trying to do things that are my version of pushing myself just a bit.  Last week I went walking with a newish friend and agreed to continue on every Friday that I have free (her only day off).  Another friend sent me a message saying she had a good time when she and her daughter came for a visit before her daughter left for college, inviting me to get together again so that I could teach her how to use the sewing machine she received from her father.  Right up my alley!

Beyond trying to expand my social circle and try new things, I am committed to set up an Etsy shop.  I should note that I started to type that I was going to "try" to set up the shop, but backspaced and corrected myself.  It's time I stop talking and start doing.

Etsy has a lot of helpful information in terms of a sellers handbook and tons of blog entries about all aspects of setting up an online shop/business.  I have just started reading and am already intimidated!  One of the topics addressed is that of market need.  I read, "No market need = no need to market your product" and I instantly think, "Oh no!  What NEED is there for art dolls?"  Now what?  Then there's the advice to ask customers what they like about my product or think about what I'd say when someone asks, "What do you sell?"  My answers, at least today, are 1) no one needs an art doll, 2) I have no customers to ask why they like my product and 3) I don't sell anything yet.  Again, now what?

I watch shows like Shark Tank where people take their ideas and have their products manufactured and wonder how they do it.  I can't be the only person that has no idea where to start.  More Winnie-the-Pooh "think, think, think" time.

I've donated a few art dolls to the Boys & Girls holiday auction.  While my husband bought them, I know there were others that indicated an interest and asked if I was going to contribute another piece again.  There's got to be a way to find those people and inquire.  Bad manners?  Or desperate move.  This is going to take more nerve than I feel I have, but I have to try something to figure out the business end of things like my target market, figure out who is my competition and figure out how to market.  The business end of it sounds so boring and scary at the same time.

Baby steps!

I have become "that old woman"

I try really hard not to watch much television, a habit that could easily become out of control since I am home alone so much.  There are a few programs that make me laugh, so I give myself permission to have those programs on while I do other things.  Yesterday I was listening to Wendy Williams.  She has a segment called "Ask Wendy," where audience members ask her for advice on personal matters.  A young lady in the audience remarked that she is dating a man that wants her to stay home and "put on a few pounds," and does not want her socializing with her friends.  Wendy's immediate response was that "sitting around the house is for old women!"  OMG.  I have become that old woman.  My big adventure today was a ten minute round trip to pick up my husband's shirts at the dry cleaner.  I cleaned off my studio desk, I checked in on Facebook a lot (shoot me now and make me stop!) and piddled around with the contents of my desk drawers, tidying up, gathering the few loose quilting pins and putting them on the magnetic pin holder.

Doesn't this all sound like the most exciting life ever???

I talk big about making friends and getting out, but I don't.  Trying to figure out why is the issue I really have to focus on.  Why don't I take a quilting class and improve my skills?  Why don't I follow up on the threat to join one of those "find a friend, already!" groups?  At this age, am I still so afraid of failing or looking stupid that I'll sit home alone, talk to the cats - again - and reorganize my magazines and quilt patterns?  This is SO DEPRESSING!  I have the time to be creative, and I'm just throwing it away.

What next?  Scoop the cat's litterbox.  Make dinner, watch birds, read a book.  I don't want to be that old woman.  I'm back to feeling like Winnie the Pooh - "think, think, think......"

It's the RULERS fault!

Frustrated with the flaws in the quilt I created this week, I decided to explore possible causes and solutions for all of the problems I had so that I don't repeat them.  I'm such a cheap date, getting all excited when I found a quilting blog where the blogger provided a tip on stacking the transparent quilting rulers and throwing out any that didn't look like the lines were accurate.  Whaaaat?  The lines weren't all as they should be?  They are manufactured with crooked lines or wrong measurements?!?  I thought I was nuts in the past when I'd cut what I thought was a perfect square, only to find it wasn't square, and it was happening frequently using the same square measuring device.  Woohoo!  I can blame it on the ruler.  Of course, I must now toss it and declare it to be flawed (and I did use it on this recent project) and buy a new one.  If the new one makes for a crooked cut, I'm going to have a harder time blaming it on anything other than "user error."  For now, my story is it was the RULER'S fault.  That, and the stupid clunker of a move not to pay attention to the placement of the needle on the sewing machine.  Whoops.

Last night I received word that the stroller and cradle I painted sold for $185 at auction.  It isn't a huge sum, but given that these auctions are usually all about getting something for a bargain suggests I should consider a little swerve on the career path.  Maybe I will repaint the chair that was intended for my friend's daughter (now 16 years old - another whoops) and offer that next year.  Better yet, maybe I'll paint that and set up the etsy shop I keep honking and wheezing about, yet never manage to get done.  For goodness sake, I helped my son's girlfriend set up a shop for her high school senior project, and she's still selling the bracelets I taught her how to make and for which I purchased the supplies.  Something's not quite right here.

Time to make good on the promise to manage time and commitments to art.  I think project #1 is to sit down and schedule the creativity time and stick to it like a dentist appointment.  We'll see how long this lasts ;-)