Crisis Resolved

Thank you so much everyone for your input on yesterday's post. I am seeing things today in a completely different light (literally and figuratively). Bare with me while I ramble on this afternoon... until the kids' buses get here anyway. I think yesterday's slide show shoot at the studio caused a slight identity crisis in me and I decided that the reason I was seeking so much validation (here, twitter, and facebook) was that *I* didn't actually like any of those shots. Yeah, that is right, deep down I think those shots all sucked.

You see, part of me feels like I have absolutely no freaking clue what I want to do with my "creative" life. Right, I just went from which picture do you like best to oh my stars what do I want to do with my life! I said it caused an identity crisis!! Do I want to write books, do I want to teach, do I want to do art shows? What the heck do I want to do? And for the past 5 or 6 years, I have been dabbling in all three of those, and then some if you count the forays into mixed media that I do too. Yesterday, I was knee deep in my "I-want-to-do-art-shows" mentality and that, my friends, is a place that strikes fear in heart. I instantly don't feel good enough. Putting myself out there to quite literally be judged and decided to be worthy or not worthy for inclusion in an elite community of fine craft artists leads to an inane amount of insecurity. So, what do I do? I put on a weird mask, in the form of black backgrounds and reflective surfaces, I stop being *myself*, and I try to conform to a standard that is quite possibly unreachable.

I can hear a voice in my head right now. It is that of a very good friend of mine (and I am sure she will recognize herself right away). She is asking me "what is it that makes you feel fear about shows", "where is the fear coming from" and "what about you feels like it isn't enough"? She is so good at making me stop to think about that I am doing without thinking. Meaning, I am letting myself feel and act without thinking about it. I need to stop and think about what I am thinking. (my stars, that is heady) Such a good friend, even when we are having a conversation in my head that she isn't privy to. To the voice in my head, I think... the answers to those questions would take too many sentences to write, but in my heart I can *feel* the answers. Do you ever have that happen? Where you don't need any words to tell the answer to something... it doesn't need to be articulated... you just know it through and through? It is something I will try to put into words for you at some point, but for now... let's just stick to the slide pictures thing.

I started to settle into a different place mentally last night. I spent the evening helping another friend (not the voice inside my head one) get her blog set up (I'll share it soon!)and we were chatting about the slides. I told her how in my gut, I really wanted to shoot the pieces on my usual white backgrounds, but so few people do that and what if it blinds the jurors that look at slide after slide that is set to a dark background... She was totally on board with white and encouraged me to go for it. SO, I did...

This will be one of the slides I use to apply to shows in 2011. I still don't know for sure what the answers to those first questions I asked myself are... the ones about what I want to do with my creative life. But I do know this... if I am going to enter art shows, I want to know I was accepted (or denied) being true to myself and my work. And I am feeling OH so good in that decision. I am also going to apply the same thinking to a booth redesign too! I want to simplify and streamline my displays, make them more *me*, and in doing so take some of the pressure to make-so-much-stuff-to-fill-my-current-set-up off. It is really invigorating. And I can't wait to share more of my path down this more thoughtful approach with all of you... thank you readers, for being here with me. 

Then Again Maybe Not

Happy Saturday, my lovely readers. It is wonderful to see you on this bright and shining morning. I must confess, I was rather comfy in my bed and didn't rise until well after 9am. So unlike me... but so needed after last night. I know you aren't used to seeing my in this bloggy space on the weekends. But today it is warranted. I have some feelings to work through and I want to do it while the feelings are so very fresh.

As you know, last night my first First Friday event at the studio. With all the overwhelming other events of this week, on Thursday, I was thinking this event might not take place. With Jacob down and out on the couch with influenza, and my back smarting every now and then, I called Ron and asked if I should just let it go. He said, in the most husbandly fashion, "it is up to you". Not what I wanted to hear. So, I set to texting an understanding friend. My understanding friend is wonderful at leading me through a conversation in a way that helps me better know my own intention and heart. Often times, she does it with the simplest of words. She knows all too well the pressure I put on myself when it comes to doing "public" shows of my work. The simple thing she said was "... as long as you aren't waiting out of a place of fear...". The one word, fear, settled into my thoughts and I knew instantly, without a doubt, that there was no fear in my heart. I decided to just let things happen as they would and as they did, an excitement settled in.

Yesterday, I truly was so excited as I moved through the day. I bought a bouquet of balloons to draw the crowds down my hallway. I picked wine to share with friends that would visit. I tidied the studio, set up displays, made a last minute necklace, I hung silouettes that I made of the kids, and I felt really good. I felt antsy to see what the night would bring too. All the while I was checking in with myself, being present, and knowing where my heart was. No fear.




Then... people started arriving. Of this I have no doubt, I absolutely loved sharing my new space with my family and friends. I was so so proud to show my new creative home to them. I wish I had more time to focus and talk with them. (I also wish I could have found a couch for the studio too. It could really use some softer, cozier, spaces.) It would seem that just when one conversation would get going, new people would wander in that needed greetings and questions answered. One of the nice things about doing events like this is getting to introduce my style of lampwork glass jewelry to people that have never seen it before. It is fun to watch eyes widen at the mention of each bead being made by hand at the torch. (Yep, that torch right over there in the corner.) Many take a card and a final look around before going off to explore another studio in the building.

And then... there were the other kind of visitors. Before I tell out about the others, know this... my words aren't coming from a place of sadness or frustration or hurt. In fact, it is just the opposite. I am excited to finally know my feelings on this. I think a lot of my angst leading up to Friday came from a place of uncertainty. Now, I know and I am in a good, healthy place about it. So, read these next sentences with a tone in your mind that pictures me smiling and sort of whispering/sharing a discovered secret.

The others... well, some were down right rude and left me feeling violated. And I.did.not.like.it. I have told you before how tender I feel about my studio and protective of it. So, you can imagine how unsettling it was when people completely ignored the displays of jewelry I had out to bee-line to my work desk, pull out a strand of glass from a jar and snap it in half. Or how rattling it could be for some to walk behind my desk and feel free to touch my tools and pull rods of glass from my shelves. Some others went even further with their inconsideration, ignoring both my art and my workspace, to help themselves to free wine and snacks. Yes, they walked to my table, poured themselves a glass of red, then promptly turned and walked out. Truly... violating was the only word I could come up with to describe the sensations I was feeling in the moments when these others came into my creative home.

Monday, I will sweep and wash away the yuck left behind on the floors and tables by those others. I will return my spools of wire, pliers, and polishing pads to their rightful places on my desk. I will twirl a time or two in my tutu and I will shut my doors to those others. In my heart I know I do not want to open my studio, or myself, to them again. First Fridays are not for me... and I am at peace with that in the very best way. I really learned so much about myself last night. My family and my friends will always be welcome... and I am thinking private open houses on a Saturday or Sunday afternoon are what will be in my future. Last night, though, will not happen again. I feel stronger in knowing that resolve and eager to continue finding truths that make my heart happy.

The Tumble From High Hopes Hill

I have had a completely blissed out few days. I have had music cranking... I have done tripods in a blue tutu... and I in the past 48 hours, doing what I love most, I have made absolute crap!



Here is what happened... I have a boat load of bottle caps at my disposal in my studio. I am talkin' hundreds. I have been wanting to find new way to work them into really cool jewelry designs. I have been pushing my creative thoughts to a place far outside the bottle cap box in pursuit of amazingly awesome possibilities. Suddenly it hit me... I could make them into bead caps... no wait, they need to be more then "caps" for the sides of beads, they need to be the bead. Wait, I have seen bottle caps made into beads before... how can I make them different? OH I KNOW! I will make them BIGGER, I will paint them... oh that would be cool.



Now picture me in my studio on Monday with a bag of bottle caps, a bench block, a hammer, loud music, a dapping set, a blue tutu, metal cutters, and spray paint. Yeah, it was good times. I smashed and bashed and cupped and cut and dovetailed those bottle caps with all my heart. With each whack of the hammer I was getting a stronger foothold and climbing higher and higher up High Hopes Hill. I left my studio with bead parts all over the floor, covered in drying paint, and full of promise. *sigh* I was a happy artist.



Fast forward to an hour into my Tuesday morning... cause ya know, before I even had my morning coffee, 2 seconds after I finished my run on the treadmill, sweaty and smelly, I tried to make those hollow painted bottle cap beads I had dreamed about all night long. I figured out really quickly that these were not going to be as cool as I thought and my slow slide down High Hopes Hill began. I felt determined though... could I ride the avalanche wave down the hill rather then tumble helplessly into a heap at the bottom? Maybe I was going about it all the wrong way? Maybe these caps would make for better bezels than beads? I could still paint them right? Paint the insides instead of the out!!




Insert wasting a few more hours here and start to picture me losing my cool as an avalanche surfer. Although the idea really sounds cool, and in theory it could be really cool... these things are crap. Where is Tim McCreight in your studio when you need him? I bet the King of Metalsmithing could create the lovely things clogging up me head.



Determined to make the most of my studio time, I very very begrudgingly decided to flip on my kiln and light up my torch. What is the beady saying? When you are having a bad bead day, go back to basics. Right? Right. I was having a bad metalsmithing day, but that is just semantics. Whatever. A funny thing happened when I sat at my flame... my begrudged attitude faded out of site within minutes. I picked up my snow covered butt, brushed off the debris from my High Hopes Hill tumble, and with glass in my hand and even more new ideas in my mind, I set to climbing that hill again. This time a little bruised, a little wiser, but none the worse for the wear.

Its Debatable

I've been having an internal debate these last few weeks. Well, months really. And I have decided to place the out come of the debate in your hands. Here is the question...

If I print it will you buy it?

Since starting to work at my mixed media pieces, I have wondered if I should sell prints along with the originals. The very very insecure, critical, artist inside me is quite convinced that it would be a total waste to purchase a high grade art quality printer, scanner, and archival papers to sell prints. Then, there is the more business savvy, confident, optimistic, dreamer in me that thinks my pieces are unique and that it would totally be worth the investment.

I am sick of arguing with my selves. Please, take a moment to click yes or no on the poll to the right! It is totally anonymous so feel free to really click what you feel.