Beginning Rituals - Earrings

Here are the most recent additions to the jewelry to be sold on Etsy and at my Annual Sale, which I'll tell you more about later (except to say that my annual Open Studio Sale was the real inspiration for the Etsy site, as many friends from out of state were sad not to be able to come to the sale and wanted a way to participate online.  So really, it's all thanks to them!  Thank you, Them!)

In the book I have been reading called, "Making Art a Practice: Thirty Ways to Paint a Pipe", the author encourages aspiring artists on all levels to begin each art making session with a ritual.  It can be a cup of herbal tea, a certain song or CD, a particular art warm up, the recitation of a goal, quote or motivational mission statement -  any action that will take them to that creative place.  It acts as a portal, immediately extracting one from the day-to-day rigmarole, and transporting them back into the creative flow they stepped away from at the end of their last creating session.

I have found mine.

I make a single pair of earrings before I begin any project currently in progress.  It's a great creative warm up (and it will serve to rescue me from the November crunch when I usually try to pound out items to have enough for my Open Studio Sale.  Freak-out mode is not a yummy-fun way to make art).  

For the moment I am relying on the stock pile of beads I have on hand, but as soon as Ellen's book is done (this week! YAY!), I will begin making ceramic pieces that are one of a kind.  That's when my heart is really happy.  Anyone could make the exact same jewelry I make out of beads from the store, but my ceramic pieces are unique to me.  

In the mean time I will still try to find that playfulness that is part of why I enjoy making things with my hands so much, even if the beads did come from a store.

The light at the end of the painting

The problem with not starting to work until 10 o'clock at night is 1. Quitting time is usually between the hours of one and two, and 2. Yoga. 

See, yoga happens at 9am. I sure wish the days were longer.  I would flourish with a 30 hour day, and 9 hours of sleep. 

I'm nearing the end of Ellen's book, and am excited to send it on its way to it's next life in Tessasee, where it will become something wonderful in her capable hands. Just a few things to touch up here and there, and then a double page spread to grapple with (third try's the charm, right?). 

I Spy (Making Order out of Chaos)

Can you find...?

2 hearts

a nest

an oak leaf

4 blue flowers

a bird

2 pairs of earrings

a measuring tape

3 spirals

a paint brush

a teapot

a cork

2 white pearls

When I was in college working on my final show, I stayed in my campus art studio so late one night that the early morning janitorial crew came through.  I was humored to learn that they never entered my studio space because, as the crew chief said, "We can't tell what's important and what's not."

That's okay.  

Sometimes I don't know what is important either, 

until it shows itself to me.

"Out of clutter, find simplicity.  From discord, find harmony.  In the middle of difficulty lies opportunity." 

~ Albert Einstein

It is in the midst of materials and art books in my studio that I find ideas that might pair themselves together simply because my eyes drifted from one object to another in sequence.  My brain then allows them to mingle in a quiet space together, drawing unusual conclusions and connections.  There is an energy that comes at times as I drift from one collection of materials to another in my work space, that is the steam to drive my next creative effort.  Until recently I viewed the many partially completed pieces, the remnants of failed experiments and the small collections of strange objects around my studio like the debris after a flood; useless, unimportant.  But I am drawing connections now between them.  The tiny stacks of pebbles, the repetition of book stacks, the repeated lines in one of Jonah's drawings on my table, all dance together in my mind and begin to influence a new painting.  The trimmings of scrapbook paper beneath a bowl of stones asks me to borrow color from one to lend to the other.

Failed attempts are learning moments.

Incomplete projects are gestating solutions.

They are not debris.  They are relics.  

It's not a mess. 

 It's not chaos. 

 It's a seedbed, 

a cosmos,

 a beginning.

Getting All Businesslike

I'm working at getting my packaging perfected for my Etsy shop.

I got my business cards in the mail this week.

I used a painting I did last year and I'm pretty pleased with them.  

They will be pretty versatile given the many mediums I dabble in.

Also, they are made of nice sturdy cardstock, so they will double nicely for picking your teeth with.  

Shadow Box

Our Tuesday Project is complete.  We made them in triplicate to give away the other two for Mother's Day to two dear friends who mother our children so sweetly.  The first copy took about 18 hours to produce, the second and third, of course, an hour.  Once all of the photo editing, sizing and such were completed, the assembly was a cake walk.

The real art is their sweet faces. 

 God, the first and greatest Artist.

Tuesdays With Kathy

Every Tuesday, Kathy and I dedicate 3 totally interrupted hours to a project.  We stop fifty times to break up fights, wipe noses, distribute crackers and be vaguely parental.  In the past we have carved clay eggs, created garden art and made holiday decorations.  This month our very slow going project has been this shadow box that took about 10 times longer to do than previously expected.  We should absolutely get government jobs!  

 (this is not the finished product, but I want to get a little braver about showing my incomplete work).

For this project we are making a scene of the children playing hide and seek in the paper forest.  We created the landscape silhouettes and then cut them on her Cricut Super-Fancy-Schmancy machine (I'm pretty sure that is the model name for it if you are looking to buy one.  Make sure you go to the craft store and ask for it by that name).  I photographed all of the kids, spent hours editing and programming the precision cut outs to be done on her machine, while Kathy worked on the sizing details for the layered elements.  Guy made fun of us for how much effort went in to selecting the perfect colors of paper, and being that Kathy and I are both ridiculously picky, it took two trips to  craft stores miles away to get, what Guy calls, "beige, beige and beige" paper.

That's okay, the finished project will be beautiful.

Baring illness or earthquake

 (ooo, I shouldn't have said that.  I hate earthquakes), 

we should finish this week, 

 I'll post the finished image.

Learning Curve

We interrupt our regularly scheduled painting for this, well, major interruption.  Art doesn't sell itself.

There is quite the learning curve to all this online sales biz.  I am working on photographing items and trying to make sure the lighting gives an accurate representation of the colors, particularly metals and reflective surfaces.  I am watching YouTube tutorials, and practicing new techniques.  Lots to learn there.  

Then there is the mailing, which for me is just plain weird.  First of all, no one in my family is surprised to get their birthday card a week or so late.  As far as packages go, Christmas in March is normal, isn't it?  But I have managed to get all of my orders out on time, and my last order was almost instant.  Well, a day, but still, that is pretty good.  

I am also learning about great packaging.  Years ago I ordered an old book off of Ebay, and it arrived with a teeny, tiny alligator in the package as a thank you for my order,  If you know our family, you'll know that that little gator has lived in our Christmas village for years now.  Whoever finds him re-hides him again, and the search goes on for weeks.  I wish I knew the sellers name so that I could tell her about what her tiny gift has become in our home.

I just received an order of some supplies from another Etsy seller that also arrived with a little thank you gift, a tiny teapot charm.  I love the way that little gift made me smile, and she couldn't have known that my mom loved teapots, but it sure was sweet to get something so accidentally personal.  I want to make sure that my buyers get to enjoy that same cheery experience.  I would love your suggestions!  Please leave them in the comments section below (it will also let me test drive the comments feature here.  Traditionally it hasn't worked well for me on my family blog).

Guy is taking over the bookkeeping.  Yay!  And I am teaching him how to post listings of new items.  Double yay!  Less computer time for me, more art time.

We now return to our regularly scheduled painting.  

These cuties are available on Etsy right now.

And if you would like to order from Loretta's Beads, visit her at Lorettasbeads.etsy.com.  She was awesome, and she uses a time machine for shipping.  I swear my package came 5 minutes before I even finished my order.

(Then let me know what your little gift was!)