tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-69495014998424145432023-11-16T07:29:51.144-05:00Patti Cahill's BlogPatti Cahillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00130421247887699075noreply@blogger.comBlogger17125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6949501499842414543.post-5168486614882427902016-03-11T16:00:00.000-05:002016-03-13T11:04:44.156-04:00Pricing Your Work<h4 style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Figuring
out how to price one's work can be a daunting process because of the
many, many things to consider. Feelings and philosophy often factor
in for many people. For example, some artists feel that the money
angle takes away from the artistic integrity of their work. Other
artists feel like working unfettered from the trappings of any sort
of business work helps their creativity remain free. These
philosophies can take many guises: “I just want to make enough
money so I can keep buying supplies;” “I could never charge what
this is really worth, and expect that someone would buy it at that
price;” “I'm just a hobbyist; I don't really need to make money;”
“I do this for fun and relaxation, and if I worried about the
business angle, all the fun would be sucked right out of it.” But
how many times have I also heard someone say they wished they could
make a living doing their art? Whenever I hear this statement, I feel
a little sad for the person. Are they really doing what they were put
on the earth to do? How powerful would we all be collectively if more
of us lived our lives using the gifts the creator gave us to our very
best ability? Would we treat each other a little nicer because we
were happier? Would the cultural “affluenza” so prevalent, so
damaging to the planet be alleviated? Would more people feeding their
creativity be turned into creative problem solving for the world's
increasingly (seemingly!) complex problems? Would the world be a
better place, ultimately?</i></span></h4>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjgc9H6ISm2gdkt38_eIUd1yT9miMAGdKD5BsR2PnRsx5BoCLViUgZss5VjiBDqlAJGwQiHml1aI0a11973vD9oUbfIDNrkg8zimHqmwADM5p9IR63UuCl6GAZAWzPrg_vNmf-03J4GsU/s1600/2016+02+06+Henna+cookie+heart+pendant+amethyst+bkgd+side+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="166" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjgc9H6ISm2gdkt38_eIUd1yT9miMAGdKD5BsR2PnRsx5BoCLViUgZss5VjiBDqlAJGwQiHml1aI0a11973vD9oUbfIDNrkg8zimHqmwADM5p9IR63UuCl6GAZAWzPrg_vNmf-03J4GsU/s200/2016+02+06+Henna+cookie+heart+pendant+amethyst+bkgd+side+1.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><i><b><span style="color: #38761d;">It's important to admit to one's self that if you are saying that the business of art doesn't apply to you because you're only in it for the joy of creating, then why are you selling it? Why not give it away -- that's the most joyful thing you can do!</span></b></i> But if you are at any level and selling your work, the
fact of the matter is that a pricing formula that works, i.e., that
results in profit can be achieved – but this requires that the
artist deal with the business of art, and that means figuring out how
to set the price for your goods. Each artist decides for herself, but
if one chooses to ignore the basics of pricing, it is doubtful that
artist is breaking even, and is more likely losing money. I myself
ignore a couple of things, and some leeway exists for putting my head
in the sand on a couple of items, but it's at the “price” of
something else, and I know it. Knowing is important because it allows
for flexibility, balance, AND keeping your creative juices flowing in
a business. <span style="color: #141823;">And
quite frankly, if you are selling your work at any level, you ARE in
business, no matter how you define your position on the artistic
spectrum between hobbyist and professional. You ignore the pricing
issue at your own peril.</span> </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">I
am first and foremost an artist, and I think I can be most helpful in
discussing pricing by doing it from that point-of-view. Entire
college degrees in business and pricing exist. I have not had any of
that category of formal education, and my pricing process comes from
my own research and experience – nomenclature may suffer from this
point on if your specialty is business! But if you're an artist,
especially a glass bead artist, most of this will be somewhere on
your radar.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Amo__bmyZM-QGzbzoxSgo5mcHzgnPH18FyH_TbNQLF1Y-BQnnzPoY9S5ekDv3LFP9WEjoPP5ZFiW00jo0-xdOkCV_GcQ54Ajj0z-j62KTq51rcG3ZHyFx2SBavJ-knb4124RMxs7aJc/s1600/04+bikini+man+in+the+moon+jpeg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Amo__bmyZM-QGzbzoxSgo5mcHzgnPH18FyH_TbNQLF1Y-BQnnzPoY9S5ekDv3LFP9WEjoPP5ZFiW00jo0-xdOkCV_GcQ54Ajj0z-j62KTq51rcG3ZHyFx2SBavJ-knb4124RMxs7aJc/s200/04+bikini+man+in+the+moon+jpeg.jpg" width="145" /></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">So,
I've heard that a lot of us have an hourly rate – I've heard
anywhere from $1 per minute, or $60 per hour down to about $45 per
hour. But pricing is a factor of TWO things: direct costs and
indirect costs, and it can be difficult to corral those indirect
costs and attach that to the price of of bead. Many glass bead
artists sell spacers and their lower priced beads at a loss because
of this, but then do they make that loss up when they sell other more
complex beads? Probably not, because they only charge a flat hourly
rate and unfortunately pricing is more complicated than that. Take
the example of the lowly spacer bead – you can make sixty of them
in an hour, right? If you sell them at $1 each, then you're making
your hourly rate, right? Yeah, but you're not making a PROFIT, and
we'll get to more on this in a bit. Regardless if you do them 5- or
6-up on a mandrel, you've still got a lot into a single spacer bead
before and after you make it. And that is the same approximate amount
or percentage whether you are making a spacer or a fancy focal. Every
bead you make has a fixed cost attached to it BEFORE your hourly rate
kicks in. The hourly rate AND the fixed costs must somehow be
calculated and factored in to the price if you want to be “in the
black.” And before I go much further I want to clarify what that
means to me as a working artist who pays her bills and makes her
living from her art. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">How
to figure out what belongs in the fixed costs category and what
belongs in the hourly rate category, and why bother? Well, it's good
to bother because it makes the difference between profitable and
breaking even, or heaven forbid, operating in the red. And just to
define what profitable means to me: it means I've made enough money
to pay my salary that pays my personal bills such as the mortgage,
the groceries, the maintenance on my car, the doctor bill, new
glasses at the optometrist, etc. Profitable does not mean “in the
black” by a few bucks – that's closer to “breaking even.”
Profitable means you are in the black to the tune of making a living
and paying your bills – business bills AND personal bills.
Profitable means you have enough to live on. And it doesn't really
matter if you are lampworking as a hobby or as a business. Profitable
is profitable.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<h3 style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Things to consider when pricing your
beads ...
</h3>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOA9K6MUANa4jQnkBepDKSxo9dUP6iSVvsDr9mssYMDySGr24B-fCg4T9kzVdoYC364TqUM-Ijm8KuwvgoNIj05-26C_4R2T5fjiLA7eXhB2JN-bUgvXBKoY6xPADnAUvB474XwdeDeUc/s1600/Studio.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="147" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOA9K6MUANa4jQnkBepDKSxo9dUP6iSVvsDr9mssYMDySGr24B-fCg4T9kzVdoYC364TqUM-Ijm8KuwvgoNIj05-26C_4R2T5fjiLA7eXhB2JN-bUgvXBKoY6xPADnAUvB474XwdeDeUc/s200/Studio.jpg" width="200" /></a>Before you make a bead you have an area
where you work, which I call my studio and that takes up the spare
room in my house. In my studio, I have furniture dedicated to
facilitating my work from tables and chairs, to bookshelves and
drawers. I use a portion of my electric bill to run everything from
the lights to the kiln to the oxycon to the T.V. Or radio. I pay
business property tax on most of this stuff.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I also have the equipment I use to make
the beads: torch, kiln and digital controller, oxycon, regulators,
propane tanks, hoses, tools, mandrels. I also pay business property
tax on this stuff.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I also have the raw materials from
which I make the beads, and I have the tools and equipment and
materials to finish the beads after I've made them. Business property
tax is a factor on some of this.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUv1pwQH6DOSnmOoS8uDxCU9c9KocCgJ8ALe4RSuqxV3XJWnuQ-5vZgnYr67HdpcYzD-e5QxbpOHO0YutzmRZXB84rFwcI-Y0Yp9x6USazrwAKKBK6oz0PXGZNqnDLIBCw4CFJ6bUs1vE/s1600/Booth+1107e1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="187" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUv1pwQH6DOSnmOoS8uDxCU9c9KocCgJ8ALe4RSuqxV3XJWnuQ-5vZgnYr67HdpcYzD-e5QxbpOHO0YutzmRZXB84rFwcI-Y0Yp9x6USazrwAKKBK6oz0PXGZNqnDLIBCw4CFJ6bUs1vE/s200/Booth+1107e1.JPG" width="200" /></a>I have stuff that helps me sell the
beads I make and keep track of it all for myself and for the various
government entities, such as a computer, digital camera, printer,
office supplies, advertising supplies such as business cards, and
even more furniture to keep all that stuff in. When I sell at a show
I have display material and props, wear and tear on my car, time
spent traveling to and from, setting up, tearing down, and selling
for the hours the show is open. I have hotel, meals, booth and
electric fees, and boarding my dog while I'm away. Business property
tax is a factor on some of this.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Furniture, equipment, tools, cars all
have a lifespan and need to be maintained and replaced from
time-to-time. I need to be profitable enough to buy a new car when
the time comes, or replace an out-dated computer that's crashed, or
replace the relay in the kiln. On and on. If any one of these things
breaks down I am out of business until the situation is rectified.
It's also advantageous to be a good citizen – pay the taxes on your
profits, like business property taxes, and income taxes,
self-employment taxes and so on. Then you can get a car or house loan
when you need one, your credit report looks good if you're trying to
rent a space, and you contribute to your own social security.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Each studio is
unique, but there is commonality: you must calculate your indirect
(non-billable) operating costs and then factor those in ON TOP of
your hourly studio rate. It's easy to ignore the many, many items
within this category in part or in whole when pricing one's work. Too
often pricing is based on what the person doing the pricing perceives
as “what the market will bear” with the idea that the she will
raise her prices once she gets business. My feeling is that you will
get exactly what you aim for. People who purchase based on low prices
only will NOT become loyal customers when you raise your prices; they
will shop around for someone else with prices lower than yours. And
if you are one of those folks presenting the argument that business
stuff like coming up with prices sucks the life right out of your
creative soul, try being unable to sell your work at rock bottom
prices because that's the lowest common denominator of what “the
market will bear” and see if that gives you a boost in your
creativity. Creating is about balance, and in my opinion, if you want
to be successful, one foot needs to remain in the real world.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEwvbL9F1qUIDvSP2ZX1Ov_hg_YdRIyhUzGorcfMEBYCq-CKaGjyUg17DrgSh5q1rh5jM7hGZFxRuwvaJKagiqCy8XifSoy7e9eQKpKm8UfEE4LHmPEUrdxda5hWkgvftFN7erGBa9dUQ/s1600/Cahill04.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEwvbL9F1qUIDvSP2ZX1Ov_hg_YdRIyhUzGorcfMEBYCq-CKaGjyUg17DrgSh5q1rh5jM7hGZFxRuwvaJKagiqCy8XifSoy7e9eQKpKm8UfEE4LHmPEUrdxda5hWkgvftFN7erGBa9dUQ/s200/Cahill04.jpg" width="200" /></a>So by
now you're wondering why you can't just fold all this into one neat
hourly rate, and I return to the lowly spacer as an example. The
unbillable cost of making a spacer is exactly (or almost exactly) the
same as making a fancy focal. It doesn't matter how many of 'em you
can make in an hour if you are selling them for less than their fixed
cost. You are then selling your spacers at a loss, which only works
if you make ALOT of other fancier beads and sell them at a price that
factors in the hundreds of spacers you are selling at a loss. I would
point out that you still need to know how much you are losing on the
spacers and lower end beads to figure out how much extra to charge on
the higher end one. And what about all the other types of beads you
make? If you don't factor in your fixed cost for them, your profit
margin is thinner than you realize. Maybe another way to put it, and
the way I think about it is that before I make any single bead, there
is already a minimum price associated with making the bead, spacer or
focal. If you want to be a successful, profitable artist,
enthusiastic about your artform and your work for years to come, it
behooves you to figure out your fixed costs/overhead, your hourly
rate, and then price your work using this knowledge. No matter how
economically you run your studio, no matter whether you consider your
studio paid for (it's never completely paid for), no matter if you're
doing it for fun, every bead “costs” you something to make it
over and above your hourly rate. Here in the U.S. You cannot make a
spacer that costs less than $1 to make and my assertion is that it's
closer to $2 these days.</div>
<h4 style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: right;">
<i><span style="color: #6aa84f;">The
internet is a great place to find specific information that will help
you out – start by searching “overhead vs. hourly costs” and
that will get you started.</span></i></h4>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
A
final and maybe most important consideration in pricing and cost
might fall under the category, “your money or your life.” By this
I mean that our bodies, our lives are finite as well, and I'm not
getting any younger for sure. For example, lampworkers, especially
beadmakers are particularly vulnerable to several repetitive motion
injuries, not limited to carpel tunnel. Do you really want to spend
the commodity of your finite body and health underselling your beads
at a loss because you don't want to deal with the realistic work of
figuring out accurate pricing? What is the cost of that on your creative psyche? Do you want to race for the top or
race for the bottom? Harder to race for the top, but fewer people
there to compete with. Again I say, you get what you aim for. I hope
to be beadmaking or making stuff for a couple more decades at least, but I can see
that I'm not getting out of this alive so my goal is to be able to
keep at it for as long as possible. Being paid fairly for my work, exchanging money for my life fairly goes a long way toward my longevity.</div>
Patti Cahillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00130421247887699075noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6949501499842414543.post-5645247350267024622016-02-04T11:30:00.000-05:002016-02-04T11:30:07.343-05:00Empathy Update!I'm so happy to learn that a Go Fund Me page has been set up for Dolores Westfall, who is the 79 year old woman living in her RV and traveling from job to job who was featured in the LA Times story, "<a href="http://graphics.latimes.com/retirement-nomads/">Too Poor to Retire, Too Young to Die</a>," that inspired me to write the post below entitled, "Empathy." Here is the link to the Go Fund Me page: <a href="http://www.gofundme.com/doloreswestfall?rcid=d631dc2afe6146739d397465d7f4d8ab%3Fpc%3Dm_d_ty">www.gofundme.com/doloreswestfall?rcid=d631dc2afe6146739d397465d7f4d8ab%3Fpc%3Dm_d_ty</a>. It is so reassuring to me that kindness no matter how humble always seems to trump meanness and evil in geometric proportion. A good reminder to myself to try to remain optimistic in the human condition. Just read some of the comments and you'll see what I mean. :)Patti Cahillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00130421247887699075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6949501499842414543.post-24669411777579817022016-02-02T13:07:00.000-05:002016-02-02T13:07:10.876-05:00Empathy<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So yesterday I read an article that a
friend posted on Facebook published by the LA Times entitled, “Too
Poor to Retire and Too Young to Die,”
(<a href="http://graphics.latimes.com/retirement-nomads/">http://graphics.latimes.com/retirement-nomads/</a>)
about aging nomads who through a series of unfortunate incidents and
personal choices have wound up roaming the country in their motor
homes, living on the cheap, and working at low-wage jobs as they are
able. The whole situation sounds like an arduous slippery slope into
abject poverty, but my initial reaction was that I was amazed by the
tenacity these people were showing – they were not taking public
assistance as far as I could tell from the article, and they seemed
to be trying to get a leg up on their situations through their own
efforts.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Of course, like being unable to look
away from a car wreck on the highway, I started reading some of the
comments below the post on Facebook. The lack of empathy expressed by
some was not surprising really, although the angry hatred expressed
by the unsympathetic stayed with me overnight. Of course I should not
have looked, but I have been trying to get some understanding and
perspective on the huge divide that I feel exists in our nation –
in politics certainly, but also in how we treat each other, and in
how we just talk to one another.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
After the Paris attacks, I became
absolutely intolerant of communication via meme. No matter which side
of an issue you are on, memes are almost always snarky and
inflammatory and therefore I'm convinced get in the way of actual
intelligent constructive conversation between people. Additionally,
memes often contain blatantly inaccurate information, such as
attributing a quote to someone famous who didn't actually say this
and that, or including statistics that are complete fabrications, or
not crediting a primary source. Facebook of course fosters this, as
does Twitter where people try to communicate in 140-character bursts.
Social networking has also redefined the concept of “friend,” in
my opinion.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But for sure I'd had it after Paris,
and we are all indeed in charge of our social media and how we use
it. So after Paris, I culled my “Friend” list on Facebook by
one-third, limiting it to those people I know personally, interact
with in real life, and yes, who I like in real life. I must say, my
news feed improved immediately. I don't have a Twitter account, and
so far, Pinterest doesn't seem to have these sorts of issues,
although I control what I see there too. I suppose some could argue
that I am cutting off hearing things I don't agree with, but I feel
like I still hear plenty I don't agree with, but I hear it in a more
constructive way, in a way that fosters conversation and actual
constructive actionable ideas.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So back to this LA Times article and
the hatred spewed in the comments. I could make an observation about
the demographic spewing the arrogant crap, but that would get in the
way of the points I want to make. One of the folks featured in the
article is a 79 year old woman who travels from low-wage job to
low-wage job. The roof on her motor home is leaking and she needs a
new water pump. So to the haters, if she were your grandmother, or
mom, or sister, would you help her? You, who have self-proclaimed
your brilliance at navigating your own lives – so far – and saved
from early childhood so that you don't have to try to make it on
Social Security in your old age, would you help your grandmother? I
mean, she's not taking public assistance, but through a series of
decisions that you have no knowledge of, she's in a bit of a
predicament. She hasn't asked for help, and she'd probably be
embarrassed to do so. I mean, she's 79 and working some pretty
arduous jobs. I would point out to the haters that they themselves
are a series of decisions away from a similar fate.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Regarding Social Security, I can
imagine us being on the same side of the argument: yes, Social
Security was put in place to be a part of one's retirement, and yes
it was not intended to be the sole source of retirement income, but
don't you find it hypocritical that the ordinary citizens must pay
into it, but Congress and the politicians do not? Don't you find it
maddening that they borrow from it, and control it, and constantly do
things to it that threaten its solvency? Don't you find it irritating
that they can serve just one term, and they receive a pension for
life? Can't you imagine how much of a relief it would be to have the health insurance policy that Congress has? It kind of makes me want that job, just for one term. Don't
you think we should be talking about that? Politicians love to turn
us against ourselves. They are masters of deflection. Maybe if they
can get us arguing among ourselves about takers wanting handouts and
redistribution of wealth, we'll get sidetracked from the issue of how
they constantly mismanage Social Security, and how they have voted
themselves comfy privileges and securities that most of us ordinary
folk will never know.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So you've managed to navigate life.
You're working, you're saving, you don't spend on what you consider
to be unnecessary. Perhaps you were able to go to college and
therefore get a better job – did you pay for your education all on
your own? Did you have some help? Parents or scholarship? Perhaps
you're healthy, strong, you've not had debilitating illness or
accident, you've got a supportive family and network, you've never
had a bad person pass through your life. One thing I know for sure,
life is a marathon and all that, and you don't get through it alone,
so your cold-hearted arrogance and hatred, and your lack of empathy
will not go unanswered. How much of your life is due to your
stunning life skills, and how much to just plain serendipity? Because it for sure is not because of your superior brain or big heart. </div>
Patti Cahillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00130421247887699075noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6949501499842414543.post-62435321609120565612015-10-24T13:34:00.000-04:002015-10-24T13:34:31.032-04:00We Seem to be a Culture of Adults Afraid of the Dark ...I moved to the country over a decade ago. I had never lived in the country, and I discovered that the country is really, really dark at night. As a dyed in the wool city girl to that point, I wasn't sure I'd be able to get used to that. But my electric co-op has placed yard lights on the property of many of the houses in their service area. For a monthly fee, a property owner can pay to have it turned on. I decided to opt out of that 15 years ago because by my estimation, the position of this light pole I figured would light up the bedroom like a football stadium at night, and that seemed impractical. I have never regretted my decision to leave the light off.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://darksky.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/BlueRidge_Featured_Image-700x460.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://darksky.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/BlueRidge_Featured_Image-700x460.png" height="210" width="320" /></a></div>
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Turns out there's a whole organization dedicated to light pollution called the International Dark Sky Organization, and the picture above is from the Blue Ridge Observatory and Star Park, not far from where I live. The photo credit is theirs, not mine, and you can find more information here: <a href="http://darksky.org/idsp/parks/blueridge/">http://darksky.org/idsp/parks/blueridge/</a>.</span></i><br />
<br />
The night sky is absolutely incredible I discovered. The depth and breadth of the stars is truly awesome. I've sat out at night and watched meteor showers, and seen many, many moons. I can even spot a few of the more familiar constellations. I'm not an afficiando mind you, but I do enjoy what I see, and sometimes it's nice to just enjoy things without turning it into a project or hobby.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.firefly.org/images/pictures/firefly-closeup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.firefly.org/images/pictures/firefly-closeup.jpg" height="320" width="220" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Turns out there's an organization for these guys too, and no surprise is that light pollution contributes to their decline as well. Again, the photo credit is theirs, not mine, and here's the link: <a href="http://www.firefly.org/">http://www.firefly.org/</a>.</i></span><br />
<br />
The fireflies in the summer make everything look magical. The geology disappears, and all you see are sparkles -- the slope disappears but a wall of little lights appears; the fields are full of sweeps of little lights, and one has no real sense of solid ground. It's magical.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.whatsthatbug.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/09/glowworm_glowing_sherry-300x204.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.whatsthatbug.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/09/glowworm_glowing_sherry-300x204.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>I had to look these babies up on a website called What's that Bug, the photo credit is again theirs, and the link here: <a href="http://www.whatsthatbug.com/2010/09/24/glowworm-10/">http://www.whatsthatbug.com/2010/09/24/glowworm-10/</a>. I had lived here for a decade-and-a-half before I became aware of these creatures. I had always attributed the glow to fireflies, but went out one night when it was way too late in the season for them, and the driveway was lit up like a magic pathway, and with a flashlight, saw that they were these worms. So cool!</i></span><br />
<br />
And glow worms are a real thing! They light the pathways, and again the effect is pure magic.The gravel driveway turns into a pathway of tiny lights illuminating a way to some delightful place. It's better than any man-made thing I have ever seen; better than fireworks, better than Disneyland, better, better, better.<br />
<br />
If I leave for out of town, as a safety precaution I turn off every tiny light in the house, thinking that if burglars want in, they'll have to bring their own lighting. That seems safe to me. It's a real turn around in attitude and thinking. Instinctually, as a city girl, I initially thought I should leave lights on, but I've come to realize that the absolute darkness can be safe, too.<br />
<br />
So I am quite bummed to discover that new people who live in a house above mine have opted to have their yard light turned on, and that it's so poorly positioned that it lights up my entire property like a football stadium at night. Yeah, I know, I'm exaggerating. Kind of. But gone is the incredible deepness of the night sky that I've enjoyed for a decade-and-a-half. Sometimes I would be outside to call the dog in, and all I could do is stop for a while and gaze upward in amazement. I'm not sure how it will affect the firefly and glow worm gazing. And I've been too depressed about it to determine whether there is any place left on my property where I can still star gaze. I'm afraid there's not.<br />
<br />
But it leads me to the real issue of the absurdity of how we try to light the dark so that it's as bright as the day. The night has its own beauty and value, and so much is missed out on by minimizing its effect. I don't think I would have thought about it until living here because these days it's considered "normal" to light the dark. Now I can see such efforts as absurd, wasteful, and entirely abnormal. A waste of resources to be sure, but I can't help but think we're losing out on appreciating the beauty of the night, which is over half of our lives. We've somehow characterized the night as "bad," as something to be alleviated. And it seems that I read about the cost and difficulty in generating enough affordable electricity in every newsletter I receive from the electric co-op. Hey! Electric co-op! A little light goes a long way around here. It is not necessary to so overdo it! We squander our resources. We make it more and more difficult for the earth's creatures to survive. Light pollution contributes to the declining population of fireflies all over the world.<br />
<br />
We try to teach the children to not be afraid of the dark, and yet we set an example the opposite of this in every possible way. We have become a culture of people afraid of the dark. We've become so afraid of the dark that a flashlight, or a candle, or an ordinary light bulb is not enough for those times we need to make our way in darkness, and rather we attempt to make the night as bright as day using absurdly powerful and harsh lighting. The first night this light was turned on, I stepped out of the house before going to bed because I thought I was missing out on viewing one of the big moons. My disappointment could not be more total. It was a devastating discovery.<br />
<br />
People come and go in the houses above me, so maybe that will happen and they will go, or perhaps the vegetation will overtake the light pole, as it sometimes does in that area and I can get back to enjoying the night, but I'm afraid that the encroachment, the absolute pollution and all its consequences are here to stay, and I don't like it. Not at all.Patti Cahillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00130421247887699075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6949501499842414543.post-46353686371277194022014-03-14T11:49:00.000-04:002014-03-14T16:00:55.345-04:00Six Days Out...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIFZcOV_WRrVE1nQsLtAD9gFG-9zDP3WMgNrs62w1HII5p7yFsmMO4Ls-TcdQKHf9S2Kt-aP-L0xvfefv363PQsHD4NLwgjSTV6dyDi-cZr1-R5HF7g3NqWyLnHBK36qM8CryXuzOqZMg/s1600/z+joey+smelling+the+flowers+cu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIFZcOV_WRrVE1nQsLtAD9gFG-9zDP3WMgNrs62w1HII5p7yFsmMO4Ls-TcdQKHf9S2Kt-aP-L0xvfefv363PQsHD4NLwgjSTV6dyDi-cZr1-R5HF7g3NqWyLnHBK36qM8CryXuzOqZMg/s1600/z+joey+smelling+the+flowers+cu.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
Joey passed away on Saturday
last, March 8, 2014. My only relief from grief and missing him seems to come
during the relative oblivion of sleep, but as soon as I begin to awake, Joey is
my first thought. He had the most exuberant way of greeting the day. Today I
was particularly thinking about that – how Joey greeted the day. It would start
as soon as I stirred; he’d jump onto the bed (all 85+ pounds of him) and put
his nose into my face to see how far along I was into actually getting up. I
usually didn't fall back to sleep after that, although the code words could be
used: “Joey, you gotta stay,” and then he would settle down (usually) to wait,
oftentimes trapping me beneath the covers with his weight and bulk, big lovely
head resting on me somewhere cutting off my circulation and making a limb fall asleep.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
When finally I got up, he was
so excited he would jump (hence the name, ”Joey,” as in baby kangaroo) all the
way to the door with a smile for me and those bright eyes looking at me to make
double triple super sure he was reading the situation correctly, tongue hanging
out and tail wagging, literally all four paws leaving the ground. I always
enjoyed the infectious exuberance of this daily occurrence, while being careful
that we didn't crack foreheads as his was harder than mine for sure.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
So this morning I was dreading
getting out of bed and having to face the deafening silence and absence of all that “routine”
on this sixth day of his passing, and I began to think about what exactly might
have been going through Joey’s mind every single morning that so enthused him,
and more importantly, could I muster the same seeming enthusiasm, not just
under the circumstances, but in spite of them? I cannot help feeling that all
this will be so much worse if I fail to honor and respect and learn this lesson
that Joey (and perhaps all dogs) seem to know intrinsically.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
I've heard or read that dogs
live in the moment, but in a way I think they live in the very short-term. They
quickly lose any remembrance of past wrongs – those done <i>by</i> them and those done <i>to</i>
them. And if they’re lucky enough to have an (good) owner, they anticipate
certain events, some brought on by habit, such as meal time, and some brought
on by obvious clues, like when I would pick up Joey’s leash and the car keys,
and say the phrase, “Road trip!” Oh my goodness, as he got older, I had to be
careful he was not on the kitchen floor, but rather on carpeting when I said
those words so that he wouldn't slip and hurt himself in his unbridled joy.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
So this morning, as I was
struggling to come up with a good reason to get out of bed and begin another
day filled with the effort of coming to terms with the pain and grief of
missing Joey, and the effort of trying to fight off the guilt of, “could I have
done something better/different/more on that last horrible day?,” I started
really trying to figure out Joey’s approach, and what he so obviously knew
about the proper way to start any day. I mean, he couldn't have been feeling
perfectly well every single day between the epilepsy and the aging, and yet
that never seemed to dampen his taste for the potential of the day. I enjoyed
him enjoying what became such a ritual for us. And I was aware of his many gifts like
this to me, but now I have to do it without him, and I’m not exactly sure how
to transfer whatever his “it” to become my “it”.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
Generally, I sleep well and
have regular hours, so I get up rested; I am not one of those chronic
sleep-deprived people you hear so much about these days. But I get up because I
have these mundane things to do before I can do what I want, what my soul
wants or commands me to do, things like balancing my checkbook, paying a bill, getting something ready to go in the mail, doing inventory so I can start my taxes, picking up something at the
grocery store. And I probably got up many days these past 11 years because Joey
<i>needed</i> to go out, be fed, be given
his epilepsy medicine on time. But even though Joey had these basic needs, every morning, he seemed to have other more important reasons for getting up that he expressed with a joyful attitude.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
So for now, what I’m going to
try to ask and maybe someday be able to answer is, “What makes me feel like Joey did when he got up?” It
for sure is not the prospect of balancing a checkbook. What is my equivalent to
his apparent joy in checking out the new smells in the yard for the 2000<sup>th</sup>
or 4000<sup>th</sup> day? What wonderful thing was he so happy about Every.
Single. Morning? I mean, Joey always seemed beyond happy and downright
exuberant. Do I have something like that in my life? What on earth could be so
compelling? Every. Single. Morning.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
I’m afraid I don’t know
exactly, but I do know a few of the things it is not, and so I start the
process there. I might try changing my morning routine to something else –
anything else. Perhaps it’s as simple and unthoughtout as getting up and
walking around the yard to see what cool new things happened overnight while I
was sleeping. No planning; just observation. All I can do is promise to start
there. Perhaps then I can start answering the larger question of what exactly
makes me feel that amped up level of joy and exuberance as Joey so obviously
did.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
Making stuff for sure has from
time to time made me feel peace and well-being and nirvana – not making the
stuff I sometimes feel like I have to make, but rather making the stuff I cannot help
making. That inexplicable out-of-body experience that happens as I am creating
where I am nothing more than a vessel through which I can feel an energy or
force or being much greater than myself charging my every move, my every
creative decision, when I know without a doubt that I am doing that for which I
am on the planet is a feeling that seems as intense as Joey’s exuberance. What
if I could foster an attitude that allowed <i>that</i>
in <i>every</i> day; more than once in a
while? Would I feel like Joey? He did “it” every single day (the ol’ Nike
tagline, best tagline of the 20<sup>th</sup> century, “Just Do It”), with no worries
about something turning out or not, or worry that time would be wasted on an idea that could
possibly go no where, no planning, no concern about all the other pesky stuff
that takes time away from what is important. So an adjustment or realignment is
in order that would foster a more focused faithfulness to the path given, and
in honor of Joey's lifelong example.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
Joey was unafraid,
unapologetic, did what he felt needed doing without delay as it presented
itself, sometimes learned from a mistake, but did not let a bad experience
quash any future experimentation. But foreseeing potential for trouble was not
his forte. He was not conservative but rather lived quite flat out, and while
perhaps part of my service to him was making sure he didn't get in too far over
his head, his service to me is ongoing -- making me see that I have some work
to do in diving into life more deeply, where the joy, exuberance, and spectacular potential is a natural side effect to
wake up every morning with such excitement that all 4 paws leave the ground for
a time.<o:p></o:p></div>
Patti Cahillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00130421247887699075noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6949501499842414543.post-21985977914493863022014-01-11T16:52:00.000-05:002014-01-11T16:52:35.080-05:00<h2>
The Parable of Talents</h2>
<br />
<img src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51nH9LC%2B6nL.jpg" /><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>“And remember the
parable of the talents, will you now. Do you mean to stand before God, come the
Last Day, and tell Him you spurned the gifts He gave you?” </i><u>The Scottish
Prisoner</u> by Diana Gabaldon<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was reading this morning before I felt I had to get up and
start my day -- another day of not feeling like I was ready to get back into
the studio and work -- when I came across this passage. I did have a Christian
upbringing, complete with Sunday School, and Confirmation classes, and regular
church attendance, so the reference niggled at my brain, mainly because of the
word, “parable”, but I didn’t quite remember it, so I took to Google, and
quickly came up with a reference in the Bible: Matthew 25: 14-30. While I do
consider myself a spiritual person, I have had struggles with organized
religion from almost the moment I got out from under parental control. I do
find a bit of humor in this particular struggle since my upbringing and related
education also leaves me with that unique form of Christian guilt, which lately
has been about how I approach my work.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Everything about living as an artist is a self-directed
balancing act, and I have always found this the most challenging aspect of the
whole enchilada. Work vs. downtime; making stuff that you know will sell vs.
making stuff that feeds your soul; the work involved with the making and the
work involved with the making a living (given a choice, I would make stuff and
give it away if only I could); and what seems like a million other pairs of
diametric opposites sitting across from each other on the see-saw. I know some
would argue that you’re only supposed to be making stuff that feeds the soul,
but I think as an artist, I try, but only partially succeed in this. You’ve got
to throw a lot of chocolate at the wall before some starts to stick. The stuff
that doesn’t stick is not completely unworthy, and in fact plays a major role
in getting to the yummy stuff stuck to the wall. It’s chocolate, not crap!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Needless to say, I hadn’t cracked open the Bible in quite a
while. Lately, I’ve been revisiting my form of spiritualism, and making some
attempts at beefing things up in that department a bit. This is hard for me in
that I am not a particularly nostalgic person, nor do I like to waste time trying
to answer the big unanswerable questions, like “Why am I here?” or “What
happens when we die?” Ironically, the only folks that can answer that question
are dead. I also continue to struggle with what to make and why I’m making it.
The answers change over time I think. When I first started this particular leg
of my life journey in 1998, the answers in the beginning were quite simple -- in
hindsight. I was just starting out, so I could get away with answers that were easily
satisfying and quite black and white. For example, I was honing my skills, both
with my art, as well as learning to live as self-directed person – as an artist
and micro business woman. Then, in the more recent past, I used to think I
shouldn’t think too much. That what I make “in the zone” automatically has that
mystical quality built in. I am merely a vessel for a much larger planetary
force. Just do it (the best tagline of the 20<sup>th</sup> century, in my
opinion). The work will speak for itself. The more you work, the more you want
to work. That all worked for quite a while.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But, I really have to come out and admit that this is no
longer enough for me, nor has it been for quite some time, and more and more I
have been thinking I need to start answering some tougher questions and
creating in a more mindful spiritual environment. Don’t confuse spiritual with
religious. Whether my spirituality translates in some way into religion remains
to be discovered. Another gem I recently ran into comes from <u>Twelve by
Twelve</u> by William Powers, “…faithfulness to the path given.” That needs to
be on a T-shirt. Or embroidered on a pillow. That you sleep on. So I’ve been
asking myself a lot lately, “Am I being faithful to the path given me?” The rub
is that I think there’s room for improvement, but the how is eluding me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve also discovered that the less you work, the less you
want to work, unless you have a really good reason to work, which isn’t about
money in this case, although it may come to that. So this is where I currently
am at on my artistic path. I do still believe in that mystical thing that
happens once in a while when you are creating – where you really can feel
yourself being used by a force greater than yourself for something good. In
fact, I think I still believe in all the mantras of the middle phase. I just
need all that and something more.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Once I (re)read the “Parable of Talents” I remembered it
from my childhood. I’m more impressed now than I was then, which is another
truism I’ve discovered – sometimes you’re just not ready to hear or appreciate
the message. “Talents” in this case are pieces of money. But in the way of
parables, I think you could also use talents to mean the gifts you have, what
you are good at, which for me is creating stuff. That part I have never
doubted. I’m convinced I was put on the earth to make stuff.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
But it’s the what to make and why make that, that is the
bigger deal these days. If I can answer these questions more meaningfully, I’m
convinced my talents will multiply. As I wrestle through trying to find the way
to go and the answers that will satisfy me now and going forward, I cannot help
but wonder if I am completely living up to my potential. Have I been doing the
work that will multiply my talents? Lately, I think I could do better. So the
timing of running into the Parable of Talents could not be better for me and it
does make me wonder if there isn’t “someone” looking out for me. I don’t really
believe in coincidences. It certainly is easier to bury your talents in order
to go the safe route. But if you want them to multiply, you have to use them
wisely and prodigiously and courageously. I’ve got ideas; I just have to go
into the studio and make stuff. “Just Do It” still does apply. But it should
also encompass answering the tough question of “Why?” I’m hopeful I’ll always
be able to define and bring to fruition a worthy idea, and that these will
always eventually overpower any natural inclination I have for safety.</div>
Patti Cahillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00130421247887699075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6949501499842414543.post-11602196082496357772013-05-03T17:30:00.000-04:002013-05-03T17:30:21.075-04:00Inspired by Reading Book Club and "Paris to the Moon"<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">I recently joined a book club named, "Inspired by Reading," the brain child of Andrew Thornton whose blog can be found at <a href="http://andrew-thornton.blogspot.com/">http://andrew-thornton.blogspot.com/</a>.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">The book club has a Facebook page, which can be found at</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.facebook.com/groups/inspiredbyreading">http://www.facebook.com/groups/inspiredbyreading</a></span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">and of course we have a Pinterest Board, which can be found here:</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://pinterest.com/JDRshrineart/inspired-by-books-group/">http://pinterest.com/JDRshrineart/inspired-by-books-group</a>.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">The basic idea is that we create artwork inspired by the book we are reading.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></i>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPkBNIgXjwBWYl7-xJcLgokGu-HuTgj924I4PzT7_ZNuQuCUa6tpQtFZjF9GfMbrzUWoODHWMH8qGuD_wQKuo_-hKMY_PWHYx9EnaW9WomedUg082_gkOWaPYiL95PJR908pN6pNruguo/s1600/Cover+of+Paris+to+the+Moon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPkBNIgXjwBWYl7-xJcLgokGu-HuTgj924I4PzT7_ZNuQuCUa6tpQtFZjF9GfMbrzUWoODHWMH8qGuD_wQKuo_-hKMY_PWHYx9EnaW9WomedUg082_gkOWaPYiL95PJR908pN6pNruguo/s200/Cover+of+Paris+to+the+Moon.jpg" width="130" /></a></div>
Our first book, <i>Paris to the Moon,</i> by Adam Gopnik turned out to be a disappointing read for me. I was excited to begin reading a book about Paris because it's a place I have not been and I hope to visit there someday. However, the author could not have been more dull in his descriptions. I could conjur almost no visual images solely from reading the book, and I found his stories to be largely uninteresting and narcissistic. My guess is that if the author didn't already have a foothold in the publishing industry he would have had a hard time finding someone to publish such a dull tome. It has been a long time since I have been unable to finish a book, as I am an avid and stubborn reader. I wish I could recommend this book, but alas, unless you are having a bout of insomnia for which this book is the perfect cure, any other book with Paris as its theme would probably be better. Having said all this, I did make a couple of things that were inspired by Paris from other sources, such as other reading I have done and from our group's Pinterest Board. It bothered me greatly that I could not be inspired solely from the book. Or more accurately, I was not inspired at all by the book.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUFpe9dGKHuSMDvRCLbGpf4M9JO1gT6agbHDEVVTo-cW2PVlO679l25Kgf5a0EoWhF2OM12CRrpKWdJnFTwHXHzDNOTaTUtZzWohho-84MNQUgJAV-tZql-LEys5xlQUpwNohsPmSCUBk/s1600/01+Paris+to+the+Moon+2+beads.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUFpe9dGKHuSMDvRCLbGpf4M9JO1gT6agbHDEVVTo-cW2PVlO679l25Kgf5a0EoWhF2OM12CRrpKWdJnFTwHXHzDNOTaTUtZzWohho-84MNQUgJAV-tZql-LEys5xlQUpwNohsPmSCUBk/s400/01+Paris+to+the+Moon+2+beads.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Despite what I felt was a disappointing book, I do hope to find time to develop the ideas that are here in their infancy. I was intrigued by a more earthy palette, and the sort of elegance and beauty that only comes with extreme age -- the colors of the past before so many synthetic and modern chemicals. I was also trying to combine these ideas of color with some of the unique attitude of fun, joie de vive, and humor of the French people. This aspect is more challenging and will require more reading and development because the concept is more abstract, but I am looking forward to continuing with the challenge. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
This is why these sorts of self-directed projects are so valuable. They stretch you uncomfortably, and sometimes with much complaint and grumpiness in new directions. Here are a couple more shots of my first attempts:</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh05FPDcy-nYAB576MZ47vdXyOUJnyVSS_YbZNHjkFwFU6ZgsdeIPM4XQKdacobRiENWymzKKzIBQt9whRKIQt0QxSf30SZJcMmMhDuL7iNSBeP3dNX0CBfVaCRXIuErEPZzSbcSxQf24M/s1600/01+Paris+to+the+Moon+twisted+looped+bale+held.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh05FPDcy-nYAB576MZ47vdXyOUJnyVSS_YbZNHjkFwFU6ZgsdeIPM4XQKdacobRiENWymzKKzIBQt9whRKIQt0QxSf30SZJcMmMhDuL7iNSBeP3dNX0CBfVaCRXIuErEPZzSbcSxQf24M/s320/01+Paris+to+the+Moon+twisted+looped+bale+held.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoioT3w-cnHbgo83zyKDglwO9ARulb4zV3NOy0t7SI104f8bVWQRjnQmYH82Xh1icUHXNmDUX9YUeYfZxAceSaYKjbVKEYzjPKa1fwfPfDVb8g9DZCyjJRw7lOG9OMF8hHUzzEawrc-E0/s1600/01+Paris+to+the+Moon+spiral+bale+heart+held.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoioT3w-cnHbgo83zyKDglwO9ARulb4zV3NOy0t7SI104f8bVWQRjnQmYH82Xh1icUHXNmDUX9YUeYfZxAceSaYKjbVKEYzjPKa1fwfPfDVb8g9DZCyjJRw7lOG9OMF8hHUzzEawrc-E0/s320/01+Paris+to+the+Moon+spiral+bale+heart+held.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<span style="text-align: left;">If you look closely at the top heart pendant, you will see some cracking. Perhaps some of the glass is incompatible, or perhaps I had heat control issues while trying to juggle the new ideas in the torch. The bottom heart pendant turned out fine in that respect, although I will be honing my color scheme in subsequent attempts and tightening up shape and patterning. I like the idea of the plain stainless bails and might try darkening them with some sort of patina. Or coloring them with metal coloring techniques. So off to the next book! Wish me luck. If anything, this club will get me to post in my blog approximately once a month or so...</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
Patti Cahillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00130421247887699075noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6949501499842414543.post-68375192679183803302012-08-08T16:32:00.000-04:002012-08-08T16:34:01.803-04:00You are Probably NOT a Self-Taught Artist...<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga2e4N8NnLO30C0VfY1IF7M82bxPtq8040zBFH7jvLZ1z0WeApGTwCcs9O0qjWdkv-H45Db9cG9insd_oSFiWKmDEsRS11IiYJXd_dA7UmQ4Z2tW1QMFJOPHcwNRxeLMGyqHQUJ3s0BcY/s1600/avam+dot+org.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga2e4N8NnLO30C0VfY1IF7M82bxPtq8040zBFH7jvLZ1z0WeApGTwCcs9O0qjWdkv-H45Db9cG9insd_oSFiWKmDEsRS11IiYJXd_dA7UmQ4Z2tW1QMFJOPHcwNRxeLMGyqHQUJ3s0BcY/s400/avam+dot+org.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;"><i><b><span style="color: #6aa84f;">Go to </span><a href="http://www.avam.org/"><span style="color: #45818e;">http://www.avam.org</span></a><span style="color: #6aa84f;"> for more information about the art of "self-taught" artists. Such a cool website, and a very cool museum to visit.</span></b></i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It would probably surprise some of the folks who refer to themselves as self-taught artists that a formal definition for this term already exists, and they are not included in this group of special artists. Type "self-taught artist" into the search engine of Wikipedia for example, and you are redirected to "Outsider Art." This entry contains other synonyms such as art brut, raw art, rough art, naive art, and art of the insane to name just a few. Outsider Art is one of my favorite art genres, and with a short read, you can find out about this incredibly interesting and inspiring art movement.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">See:</span><span style="color: #45818e; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i> </i></b><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Self-taught_art"><b><i>http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Self-taught_art</i></b></a><b><i>.</i></b></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> For the purposes of this blog entry, I'm agreeing with the definition set forth there. My point in this blog entry has to do with this quote from the article:</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.200000762939453px;"><i><span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>The term is sometimes misapplied as a catch-all marketing label for art created by people outside the mainstream "art world," regardless of their circumstances or the content of their work.</b></span></i></span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I'm agreeing with that premise, too, although "sometimes" should probably be replaced with "most times". To be polite, I find it confusing when someone refers to themselves as "self-taught." If I weren't going to try to be polite, I'd think the person was ignorant at best, or a pompous ass at worst. Although I guess making stuff and then trying to sell it to make a living does require some sort of ego, I daresay. Generally though, I consider myself a kind person and return to the feeling of confusion and wonder what he or she is really trying to say? And if they call themselves "self-taught" to an editor of an art magazine for example, doesn't that make him or her sound ignorant of an entire named and recognized art movement?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Ironically, true self-taught artists would most likely not realize that they were self-taught, or even call themselves artists at all.</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">While a small portion of the definition does have to do with education, that is not all there is to it. It seems that this part of the definition has been grotesquely mutated in order for those who use self-taught to describe themselves to take some sort of extra credit that is ultimately unearned. It implies the artist thinks of himself as gifted in some way, because he didn't require any of that pesky directed education in order to do the stunning work he does. But the opposite is true, and in no way does that set the artist apart in any special way whatsoever.</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Self-taught artist" does NOT mean that you practice alone in your studio a lot. It should go without saying that any artist spends a great deal of time honing their craft and communing with the Muses or other higher power (or not) to create something that somebody might one day proclaim as art. (If this hoped-for proclamation is the reason you work, well...uhm-m-m-m...hmm...bigger confusions might exist.)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Self-taught artist" does NOT mean you lack a college or art school education. And since when is that something to brag about anyway? I mean, where does that get you? Because by misusing the term, you're already illustrating a certain lack of education, whether self-directed or not. I'm not sure I'd want sole credit for that misunderstanding.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Self-taught artist" does NOT mean you did a bunch of metaphysical research on your own, either. Nobody cares except in how you're able to morph that into your art in some way that speaks to somebody else. Or not. Nobody should care but you.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Think about education, formal or otherwise. Did you watch somebody's YouTube video? Page through their books? Watch a dvd on the topic? See a how-to spread in a magazine? Try and follow a tutorial? Take a class? Watch a demo? Go to college? Go to art school? If you did any of these things, you cannot consider yourself part of the self-taught art movement and you are misusing the term. More importantly, you are not giving credit where credit is due. That's where I tend to get off-track in my thinking and find myself wandering along the pompous ass track.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
If you were one of the self-taught artists in the creative vacuum described by the Outsider Art movement, you most likely wouldn't be reading this blog, or even using the term. Another quote, one of my favorites, was coined by the person credited with defining the Outsider Art movement, Jean Dubuffet:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i><span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>"Art is at its best when it forgets its very name."</b></span></i></blockquote>
<div>
I only wish my intentions could be a pure as a true "self-taught" artist. As it is, I'll spend a great deal of the rest of my life trying to attain that goal and put forth great effort. And as the term "self-taught artist" is misused and overused, I'll probably continue to put forth great effort in attempting to understand what the artist using the term -- and making a first impression -- is really trying to say.</div>Patti Cahillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00130421247887699075noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6949501499842414543.post-85591917418817408902012-08-04T07:55:00.001-04:002012-08-08T16:34:59.827-04:00<h2>
The Art vs. Craft Discussion</h2>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwcs3LBWtwoMRSaubI9H_L5RHxK0Yw-dVoCjSjldpfoh_im3MFKHlFt4JZWTZkJrHXDwqvronkW1qzD3jT-wVa2zx6szzOurz8mXNEtUs-Qy4gjKOff41uGKGCiY1-8JXKwTEguOBY9lA/s1600/forsythia+by+studio++2012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="184" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwcs3LBWtwoMRSaubI9H_L5RHxK0Yw-dVoCjSjldpfoh_im3MFKHlFt4JZWTZkJrHXDwqvronkW1qzD3jT-wVa2zx6szzOurz8mXNEtUs-Qy4gjKOff41uGKGCiY1-8JXKwTEguOBY9lA/s320/forsythia+by+studio++2012.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Studio, thinly disguised as a garage...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
I've always found this discussion to be mildly annoying and for me moot because the only way to settle the distinction is through the work itself. That is, if there is even a distinction to be made, of which I am unconvinced. And if you're talking about it, you're not working on it. And if you're not working, you'll never create work that somebody will want to try to put in the "craft vs. art" box. Also, I should mention that I hate boxes. Which is kind of funny, because while I've recently had to conclude that I am not the neat freak I thought I was, I am somehow obsessive-compulsive enough to try to organize my belongings, and I routinely find boxes of stuff within boxes of stuff, within other boxes. But I digress...<br />
<br />
I oftentimes think these sorts of "intellectual discussions" are rather clever methods of procrastination disguised as important. I also think the more intelligent one is, the more clever and sneaky the procrastinations, to the point that even the person procrastinating doesn't realize he or she is in the throes of a really good one. For example, I find myself writing in this blog about a topic that I've already mentioned I find mildly annoying if not altogether moot -- don't think for a second that the irony escapes me.<br />
<br />
Ultimately, the work stands on its own, and I find this reassuring. But if you're thinking and talking about art vs. craft, you're probably not working. I'm stingy that way: anything that takes time away from my working time sucks for me, and that includes esoteric discussions of whether or not an artist is engaged in making "craft" or "art." When I make something, I'm doing it because I have to for the most part. That is, I have an idea of something that I have to make, and I cannot be satisfied and therefore happy, until I have made it. (If you consider yourself an artist and are working for any other reason, we can talk about that issue another time.) Generally, I don't give a damn how somebody wants or needs to categorize the work. The mildly annoying part for me is that by attempting to categorize an artist's efforts, the categorizor is judging whether the categorizee's work is "better" or "best." This pigeon-holing has no bearing whatsoever on what I make next. It doesn't create some sort of intellectual shortcut that allows me to skip steps on my journey, so again it becomes moot.<br />
<br />
The other problem I have with the art vs. craft debate besides the fact that it is an argumentative time sink, is that it sucks the magic right out of the artistic soul. For example, sometimes I get an idea to make something, and something else happens during the process. This type of event can be extremely cool or extremely frustrating. Either way, it gets me farther along my artistic path.<br />
<br />
Or sometimes I sit down to make something, and I have an amazing out-of-body experience where I am at peace and in that place of absolute nirvana, and it's as if I am merely a conduit for something greater than myself. That's the adrenaline rush. That's why I keep working. Because quite frankly, I can probably count those times on one hand. And I've been "making stuff" since I could grip a pencil and hit a sheet of paper with it. Don't get me started on cardboard and some paste. Anyway, the art-vs.-craft debate could not be farther from my motivation in either of these two examples.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSVAcS7DXAimHV3nlvAdqkzOr8-LXWPnKmvqTASyTeJ5VUGmCIzrUz6CGs_cG4qAu1xreZRmXv4wXz1Tu62zVzKigqM6lCVJchfOcgyzD3m280v3NVtUVUClEFJcNTPJgh2lQEzXMQS-w/s1600/Berks+2013+cu+postcard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSVAcS7DXAimHV3nlvAdqkzOr8-LXWPnKmvqTASyTeJ5VUGmCIzrUz6CGs_cG4qAu1xreZRmXv4wXz1Tu62zVzKigqM6lCVJchfOcgyzD3m280v3NVtUVUClEFJcNTPJgh2lQEzXMQS-w/s320/Berks+2013+cu+postcard.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lot of surface patterning. Or superficial design?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Were I to analyze a feature of my own work, I would say it's no mere coincidence that I enjoy pattern-making on the surface of my glass -- I'm not at all interested in the artificial perception of great depth that can be achieved with glass. Just as I hate wasting time on unanswerable questions. Don't even get me started on, "Why am I here?" or "What is the meaning of life?" So debate away. I would find it extremely disappointing if anyone ever answered the question of whether something is art or craft in any sort of definitive way. Meanwhile, I continue to do the work so that there is something upon which to pass judgement, for ultimately that's the reason for the debate. And quite frankly, the answer will not affect this artist's pathway. And if it did cause some sort of effect, what kind of artist would I be?Patti Cahillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00130421247887699075noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6949501499842414543.post-31348120086436886852011-08-26T08:15:00.007-04:002011-08-26T08:56:44.898-04:00Too Short, Grasshopper...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu6qiqlPJmgEfKJz5I-j10jmEiqNAdFxlkP08P-0M9mnWTPO9zBBAcGYkKUU8AG9F8xx-aYjAXejmNpfE1CVSlzrvdf-58X0t8n6iRO-rb2iAtLG30jjFlwMbTWXDHK8Zk24gRdkfq3no/s1600/Grasshopper.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 332px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu6qiqlPJmgEfKJz5I-j10jmEiqNAdFxlkP08P-0M9mnWTPO9zBBAcGYkKUU8AG9F8xx-aYjAXejmNpfE1CVSlzrvdf-58X0t8n6iRO-rb2iAtLG30jjFlwMbTWXDHK8Zk24gRdkfq3no/s400/Grasshopper.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645141492494864802" /></a>This big guy showing up on my window screen reminds me of the fact that summer seems to go by so quickly. I know I was complaining just last week about the heat this year. It's hard to sit in front of a torch and kiln in the heat of summer. I did a show up in the Philadelphia area this past weekend, and when I got back home, the signs that summer is almost gone are evident. I know before I left -- a mere three or four days ago -- I'd been sleeping on top of the covers with the ceiling fan on full blast, and now I find myself sleeping under the covers with no ceiling fan action at all. Soon I'll be closing windows, and after that configuring the storm windows. Then there will be that day when the heaters are used for the first time. Of course there have been signs of the end, such as the shear size of the big guy who's peeking into my window. And the tomatoes ripening on the vine. As summer progresses the insects get so loud here in the country it could be characterized as deafening. Those who think the country is quiet have never spent an evening in the country in late July and August. One has to practically shout to be heard above the din some evenings. The days still get "too" warm, but there is that hint of cool air in the undercurrent. And the nights cool off making for good sleeping weather. So my hope now is for a long, slow, lazy autumn, because conversely to summer ending so fast, it always takes such a long time to for it arrive again only to go through its seemingly disproportionately short timeframe. And while there's always the hope of an "Indian" summer, it is just one more sign that indeed, summer has gone.Patti Cahillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00130421247887699075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6949501499842414543.post-61487326982178370132011-08-10T21:07:00.007-04:002011-08-26T08:14:53.629-04:00Becoming Reaquainted with a Lost Love<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRYqEEpc2pl4e31rSw6zycbXzk6uaxQrmnlbyLin8pZtUJOEkan5IjJcU-doajBpKvUC_ZJtPXJ8JDJ82aDs-cBqnklv_abNdTvc381t-n6IV1hFyRXBNMw68_e-GQIcNy002nTBJ7TbQ/s1600/Little+book+01+interior.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 281px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRYqEEpc2pl4e31rSw6zycbXzk6uaxQrmnlbyLin8pZtUJOEkan5IjJcU-doajBpKvUC_ZJtPXJ8JDJ82aDs-cBqnklv_abNdTvc381t-n6IV1hFyRXBNMw68_e-GQIcNy002nTBJ7TbQ/s400/Little+book+01+interior.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639401900515381570" /></a>Before I was a glass beadmaker, I was a papermaker and book binder (among other things). I have not spent much time on the bookmaking in many, many years. Lately however, I've had a yearning to get back into it. I love books and reading so much that I almost cannot be without a book within reach or physically on my person at all times. Sometimes I even fall asleep with them, and both sides of my bed are flanked by floor to ceiling bookshelves, the nightstand is stacked with books, and there's another pile on the floor that belong to someone else that I need to read. Thank goodness for my Kindle, where at last count I had over 500 books. It has cut down on the weight of books that used to be in my purse.
<br />
<br />So I've been trying to combine my "vices", and I've spent the last few days reacquainting myself with various book binding skills.
<br />
<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiryle5H6r5vJ43dwSRjiFEKwSF7oWbhN0PZPtvrYKDoJZdw4yvYOO8S0NGMNMzLdNRvdLMgIO2NdwZWmcywUWj-IPSBOAAiQcnnX1nxuSy-0mBoda9DHpSCYltk4Qs86IjLC_O73OO8C4/s1600/Upcycled+1+x+1_5+bindings.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 190px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiryle5H6r5vJ43dwSRjiFEKwSF7oWbhN0PZPtvrYKDoJZdw4yvYOO8S0NGMNMzLdNRvdLMgIO2NdwZWmcywUWj-IPSBOAAiQcnnX1nxuSy-0mBoda9DHpSCYltk4Qs86IjLC_O73OO8C4/s320/Upcycled+1+x+1_5+bindings.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639403953454621970" /></a>
<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqxrKCRQkwoRNWp_eyQu0a5goaNtmcWSOSIb4hlvulBpJdBfm3oBIv-Jiv9Xh7kUp-pgKSApHaCYOrtkJDWBeUeRexzAIFAdFIC_6_-aFkYxpcSnf5-OtaahG9jeEKkpiNBL6rRkOKahI/s1600/Leather+1+x+1_5+outside.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 238px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqxrKCRQkwoRNWp_eyQu0a5goaNtmcWSOSIb4hlvulBpJdBfm3oBIv-Jiv9Xh7kUp-pgKSApHaCYOrtkJDWBeUeRexzAIFAdFIC_6_-aFkYxpcSnf5-OtaahG9jeEKkpiNBL6rRkOKahI/s320/Leather+1+x+1_5+outside.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639403949444825554" /></a>
<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE28fbwUA2qzAZXQunIOsG3FcpVD85ShHruqPzqUOnOEqktx6ShcrWGVtmmLaKDGoI8HRoUsHn-mTcqEpwERBSWO3SswZU0WH_5jYQgw6UNmHiwjj9b3Y1fR2V6QcEmimBQrdWWofcHIQ/s1600/Leather+stab+1+x+1_5+interior+and+binding.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 233px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE28fbwUA2qzAZXQunIOsG3FcpVD85ShHruqPzqUOnOEqktx6ShcrWGVtmmLaKDGoI8HRoUsHn-mTcqEpwERBSWO3SswZU0WH_5jYQgw6UNmHiwjj9b3Y1fR2V6QcEmimBQrdWWofcHIQ/s320/Leather+stab+1+x+1_5+interior+and+binding.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639403342221597858" /></a>Initially, I have made "little" books, more accurately categorized as "miniature" books by the book arts community. They are approximately 1.5 x 1 inch when closed. Since I really don't like being without a book on my person at any time, that concept provided the impetus for my little books. They can easily be incorporated into jewelry or other adornment. All are blank and awaiting owners to personalize them in some way. I'm working out how exactly to combine the books with my glass art, but for now I think I'll just enjoy the book binding separately since it's easy these days to burn out on the beads. I've made 4 each of 3 slightly different kinds. The top picture is a closeup of one of the leather books. The three pictures on the left are groups of 4 little books of a kind (don't ask me why 4 of each, but it is kind of bookish in that each sheet in a signature-bound book has 4 pages, so one tends to think in multiples of 4). The top photo are books that I made of upcycled material, mainly packages and paper bags, with an exposed longstitch binding, decorative endpapers, and ribbon and bead closure. I added an anodized aluminum jumpring to the top of the spine for hanging on a necklace or something. The second picture shows the leatherbound version, with same exposed longstitch binding, little folders built into the endpapers, a leather tie closure, and jumpring. The bottom picture is a group of leather clad japanese tortoise shell stab binding books with decorative endpapers. I made a special wireworked hanger for each, and then crafted a leather button and braided ribbon and bead closure.
<br />
<br />I must say I'm enjoying myself immensely, and several more ideas have sprouted as is usually the case when I'm working. It's one of the laws of artmaking -- the more you work, the more you want to work. I think my next step will be in making 1-, 2-, or 3-signature books in a size that would easily fit in a pocket -- maybe a size similar to the moleskins I like so much. Also, I discovered a really cool binding that combines an accordian fold spine with origami and a very clever way to hold in sheets without glue or sewing. And even more cool is that the sheets can be removed or moved to other places in the book. Since I'm constantly changing my mind, this might just be the perfect book. I'll keep you posted!
<br />
<br />Edited to add labels.Patti Cahillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00130421247887699075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6949501499842414543.post-80661190292003072822011-05-12T10:33:00.000-04:002011-05-13T16:37:53.243-04:00A Lost Poem Found...<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm_empnA0Aeb_Uucjd6fWKoJNxqglU7S1hFIeN30680JPm6xBNekOGawbW8ffNuPmQTSvGSM9SYWwbM2UhPWEzlTeL1c3QCifJT1bux3zy5v9H5ftQO8lhyphenhyphenu8JvEpWOw1LpqXZlmqjw_E/s1600/a20+butterfly+on+phlox.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5605842383988967922" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm_empnA0Aeb_Uucjd6fWKoJNxqglU7S1hFIeN30680JPm6xBNekOGawbW8ffNuPmQTSvGSM9SYWwbM2UhPWEzlTeL1c3QCifJT1bux3zy5v9H5ftQO8lhyphenhyphenu8JvEpWOw1LpqXZlmqjw_E/s400/a20+butterfly+on+phlox.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<em>So in the process of cleaning out 2 tall bookshelves, 2 bedrooms, and 3 closets, I came across the following poem that I had written...</em><br />
<br />
How to let him out?<br />
But no. No.<br />
Life if you leave it is scary empty<br />
overwhelmed.<br />
Do not go so soon.<br />
We are old but young;<br />
try mad wild experiments with me...<br />
paint watch people dream create<br />
compose live free live deepest.<br />
Imagine purple bold love returned.<br />
We can, too.<br />
Write me here --<br />
Hurry before I have to go.<br />
Capture me.<br />
You are shimmering so gorgeous!</div>Patti Cahillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00130421247887699075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6949501499842414543.post-30962732683577042102010-10-01T10:34:00.007-04:002010-10-01T12:18:16.257-04:00Working Sabbatical<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO7gMdaNGRBjD84EUbg8JdPVmhAf9wjuhNa9ts-PYKlJ4wvcLb78j2-lmvUalbLHdGxc-5b3GHv1JwtTL5TMHACPFqwB9YpFKfvre3ObmUTPyKje9E8QnLBXgsdMQItZ7bQokyLrkkP2g/s1600/boxes+from+calendars.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 338px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO7gMdaNGRBjD84EUbg8JdPVmhAf9wjuhNa9ts-PYKlJ4wvcLb78j2-lmvUalbLHdGxc-5b3GHv1JwtTL5TMHACPFqwB9YpFKfvre3ObmUTPyKje9E8QnLBXgsdMQItZ7bQokyLrkkP2g/s400/boxes+from+calendars.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523105093608451074" /></a><br /><em><strong>Above: Origami boxes that I make for no reason, made from old calendars.</strong></em><br /><br />I was reading another blog today and the artist admitted to being in a creative slump -- resulting in <em>not</em> going into the studio for several months. The frustration expressed by this artist was palpable. And I can thoroughly empathize with that feeling. I have been there for a good long while, now -- perhaps a couple of years, if I were to really admit it (although a certain amount of that self-awareness is due to hindsight).<br /><br />I've been doing what I do for about 15 years now, and mostly I still love it. I mean, where else could I be sitting in my pajamas, watching satellite T.V. or listening to books on tape while simultaneously working and earning a living? Most days, my commute is about 15 yards. I never have to be trapped in a conference room in one of those interminable company meetings so loved by most corporations. I don't have to try to get things accomplished by reaching a consensus with my team. <em>All</em> my efforts go toward providing for me and my family. Advantages to my way of earning a living as an artist abound, and while I still feel they outweigh the disadvantages, real challenges also exist.<br /><br />The first challenge is that artists essentially live off their creativity, and the soulful effort this takes can be daunting and draining, especially over any span of time. Secondly, they must rely solely on their own impetus and discipline, hour after hour, day after day, year after year to not only get into the studio and get the work done, but to also wear the many other hats required to get the work sold to make the living. A third obstacle can be that inner voice constantly nagging, <em>"Why </em>are you doing this?" or "This is no good. Why do you constantly waste your time?" or "Why do you <em>keep on </em>doing this?" A fourth challenge comes with success. Successful artists at some point come to the realization that they can easily become victims of their own success, turning an item they once loved to make into something they almost can't stomach making one more time. I mean, it's great when you make that bracelet worn by the starlet, but not so great in some ways when the famous department store wants 1000 of them.<br /><br />Balance is a huge issue in living the creative lifestyle. My areas of balance have always been the same -- how to balance "work" and "life", how to balance making tried-and-true successful products with time to play creatively in order to create new successful products, how to balance wearing the artist's hat with the business woman's hat -- to name just a few. Most days I'm convinced that I'm no closer to unlocking the secrets of balance than I was as an unwitting newbie 15 years ago.<br /><br />So top the challenges and the balancing act with a serious bout of creative block and no wonder the idea of a sabbatical was born. Wouldn't it be nice to take a year off and travel the globe without thinking about "work," for example? While I believe everyone is creative and therefore in need of the occasional sabbatical, for artists, because work and life are so closely intertwined and less easily separated, the sabbatical is often the only way they can keep going in their profession, and is often the reason many artists leave the artistic life. Ironically, most artists are not so successful that they can afford any sort of proper sabbatical, myself included -- no working, no eating either. <br /><br />To cope over the long haul, I think I have been taking what I refer to in hindsight as a "working sabbatical." I work at the stuff that is successful, just enough of the time, and then I escape as best I can with other things. Lately, I've been reading a lot (pure escapism), crocheting a lot (a somewhat mindless, repetitive soothing activity), bookbinding (don't ask me why other than I love books), and making various origami boxes (another somewhat mindless activity for no good reason). As I look over these other activities, I think I'm trying to achieve some sort of balance and incubation and recuperation time for my brain and creative soul. I think a lot of artists do this and put it into the category of "artists' block."<br /><br />For myself, I really don't think of it that way. I simply try to remember that these sorts of spells are part of the intense creative process that I've chosen to engage in for my living. I know when I'm in the throes of one of these spells that I'm on the verge of something new and exciting. I try to welcome that "bored with myself" feeling and take advantage of it. I know that no matter how much I must work to earn a living, that when I'm in the thick of the funk I'm where my most potential exists. And most importantly, I know I'll survive as an artist because there's something built into my DNA that will not allow me to work without some sort of creative (not monetory) reward. And so I creep along in the midst of my working sabbatical sure in the knowledge that I'm on a path that I can sustain for the long haul, and deep satisfaction is forthcoming -- again, and again.Patti Cahillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00130421247887699075noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6949501499842414543.post-65900651413790478812010-03-08T20:59:00.009-05:002010-03-08T22:11:06.371-05:00On Turning Fifty and Thoughts on Nostalgia<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQQ70b5cBC9eh7LJ9fnAQIeBPsP2jsvDasvvWme-DyXA2QMacQ369u77nuAq32Z3sUJMYKFHKOV4wmFKu-Zu0X5-yRUP-wb7GCWaBWzKSswrAMKAcZ79coosr_9pi3F7YLY83GDyPl-T8/s1600-h/Me+sweet+16b.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 317px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQQ70b5cBC9eh7LJ9fnAQIeBPsP2jsvDasvvWme-DyXA2QMacQ369u77nuAq32Z3sUJMYKFHKOV4wmFKu-Zu0X5-yRUP-wb7GCWaBWzKSswrAMKAcZ79coosr_9pi3F7YLY83GDyPl-T8/s400/Me+sweet+16b.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446462561834766066" /></a><br /><strong>nostalgia</strong><br /><em>n.</em> a sentimental longing or wistful affection for the past, typically for a period or place with happy personal associations.<br /><br />I am not a particularly nostalgic person, and generally think of nostalgia as a nearly completely useless emotion that can suck one into a place one could get stuck -- and not in a good way. Not only does it rob one of the beauty of the present, it also renders one ungrateful for current blessings as well as all those received on the journey from then to now. Nostaglia unchecked can render one stunted in any sort of growth due to life experience, whether good or bad. I do get "curious" about my past, though. <br /><br />For the past several months, friends I grew up with have been coming out of the woodwork it seems. These are folks who I have not spoken with or heard from for a good solid 20 or 30 years or more. I must say, it's been great fun, and I'm going to go out on a limb and hypothesize that this trip down memory lane has something to do with all of us hitting approximately at the same time the 50-year mark. Facebook has certainly been helping the process along. (Just enter your schools along with the date of graduation, and you'll probably find lots of friends you've lost track of over the years.) While this sort of thing could trigger feelings of nostalgia, I've more felt curious as much for my own past and journey as for those of my friends.<br /><br />So in some ways the process of hooking up with the past has been helpful to me. Not just in the way that I'm not the only one with gray hair, sagging facial and other features who's put on a few pounds over the years. (Shwew!) But even better and more important is that I can see that the essence of what I liked about all those kids so long ago has grown and intensified -- the adults have become more themselves than they were. And since I think I've done the same, it's magical in a way because I still like the same things about these friends. It's been fun getting reacquainted. And I've missed them. They know about me in a way my more recent friends never will, and I find this history valuable, although I'm not interested in repeating any history!<br /><br />And so far, I'm really feeling pretty happy with fifty. In my head, I'm 28, and feel like acting like I'm 16 sometimes. I've been renewing my love for music, trying to wear lipstick a little more often, and actually thinking about buying a bicycle. I used to like riding a bike to get places. It could work for me here in the mountains if I have enough of those low gears and a comfortable seat to accomodate my 50 year old body. And I guess a helmet these days -- honestly though, how did we all ever grow up without all the body protection gear? And I'm beginning to see the need to take dance breaks between beadmaking sessions.Patti Cahillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00130421247887699075noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6949501499842414543.post-76508224367895488592010-01-17T08:03:00.001-05:002010-01-17T08:57:37.759-05:00An Unpremeditated Day Off<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBtlVfe6bdQhey-b8JwZoBDT2EbBW58zDaCragj4ckPwuLCBMLRbFDxGyJU-hFnU8fnrGu-szIBSHSYJ9fo_jdjFArp6q_oYuDAYT1a4TCYmDGd9oQnPdh6YGEKwHf8StOB9QBhIvDRV4/s1600-h/Twilight+cover.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 279px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBtlVfe6bdQhey-b8JwZoBDT2EbBW58zDaCragj4ckPwuLCBMLRbFDxGyJU-hFnU8fnrGu-szIBSHSYJ9fo_jdjFArp6q_oYuDAYT1a4TCYmDGd9oQnPdh6YGEKwHf8StOB9QBhIvDRV4/s400/Twilight+cover.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427703317546699154" /></a><br />When you're self-employed the relationship between bill-paying and working is very direct. No work-ey, no money. Moreover, I enjoy my work. Because there's a good variety of tasks available, I seldom get bored. Trying to tame the ever-present piles of paperwork, online work, and the actual making of the product keep me pretty busy. I thought when I "went full-time" into the beadmaking, that I would have hours and hours of uninterrupted time to make beads. Not so, I was to discover. So because I generally like all the facets of what I do, I rarely take a day off, and often when I do relent, the day off is a total surprise.<br /><br />Yesterday, I had finished filing about 6 months worth of little sheets of paper, made breakfast (my favorite meal of the day, which usually occurs around lunchtime), and I was petting Joey and flipping through the channels on the TV trying to get an update on Haiti, when I got up, went into my bedroom, picked up the book I was reading, and read until about 1:00 am when I finished the book.<br /><br />My days off tend almost always to be surprises to myself. Sounds odd, I know, but my plan at that moment when I got up off the couch was to walk directly to the studio.<br /> <br />Wow! How nice! I'd forgotten how much I liked to spend all day reading a book. And something about unplanned free time is one of my most precious commodities. I probably could count on one hand the number of times I do this each year.<br /><br />My bedroom is pleasantly sunny during the day. I'd been reading for a while when my friend Deborah called from Colorado, and we had a nice long chat while I was lying there all warm and comfortable, soaking up the rays that came into the window. Then more reading; a nap, something which I can't remember the last time I did; more reading (by that time the rain had started); leftovers and tea late, around 9:00 pm; small dialogue with Marc about the silliness of the Conan/Leno thing and why can't they find anybody like Johnny Carson; more reading until I finished the book. Brushed my teeth, took my vitamins, went to bed for good to the sound of the rain.<br /><br />After a day like this -- and Saturdays "off" are even more rare for me because I'm usually out of town trying to sell my beads on Saturdays -- I always say to myself that I will do this sort of thing on a regular basis. That it's helpful and important to my well-being, that it's part of the balance I've been looking for and craving deeply since I started this beadmaking living.<br /><br />I spend so much time in the studio (thinly disguised as a garage) that I forget how nice the house is to be in.<br /><br />Regarding my book: I had started reading "Twilight" several days ago. I checked it out from the library because every time I looked at it in the bookstore I just couldn't get into it. I'm a big Anne Rice fan, and I couldn't possibly fathom anyone coming up with anything better or as interesting as her first 5 vampire novels (her later 3 or so kinda suck). But after reading Twilight, I think there is something there, and I'll be checking "Moonlight" out from my little library if they have it. I'd like to say it's never too late to fall back in love with your library, especially in this economy.<br /><br />So at this moment today, I have a driven boss who enjoys her work, has a pretty solid work ethic, who's looking forward to a nice block of studio time. I've got five movies from the library, and I'm ready to go I think. We'll see where my feet lead me when I get up...because I can't remember the last time I took a whole weekend off, and Ayn Rand's "Atlas Shrugged" is waiting.Patti Cahillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00130421247887699075noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6949501499842414543.post-12892787238112227122010-01-05T09:37:00.006-05:002010-01-05T11:53:12.517-05:00My Teacher, Joey-dog<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhenlb5oPt3jsZEVM-4GGhGFTEla3MwgsBvcfVabHDbuZ1Iixk69Du0rcQQh9xNpkBWPPteCfhCCx_b-GGzKmFUM0lhcQLQULvRGApSFCasi2BYQqdHpoaA4qBNrPgkN7lFQpEJMFq8pT8/s1600-h/Joey+napping02.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 280px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423273394569120418" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhenlb5oPt3jsZEVM-4GGhGFTEla3MwgsBvcfVabHDbuZ1Iixk69Du0rcQQh9xNpkBWPPteCfhCCx_b-GGzKmFUM0lhcQLQULvRGApSFCasi2BYQqdHpoaA4qBNrPgkN7lFQpEJMFq8pT8/s400/Joey+napping02.jpg" /></a> We didn't name Joey, "Joey" without a good reason. He lives to jump, and he has the coloring of a kangaroo. Other names we tossed around were "Tigger" and "Buckie," although I know another precious dog with that name. But Joey seemed to fit from the start.<br /><br />I think one of my favorite things about Joey has to be how he greets each and every day with enthusiasm. Without fail he wakes me up with such infectious energy, it makes me wonder what he thinks is going to happen. Or, I like to think he's excited about what <em>could </em>happen. He's an 85-lb yellow lab mix, so his enthusiasm can knock you down or hurt you, especially if you tend to be a little wobbly getting up, or he takes you unawares. But once he figures you're getting up (and he knows exactly precisely how I throw the covers off when I'm getting up), he leaps, he bounds, he prances around like a horse, he bucks like a bronco, his eyes are shiny and focused. He actually smiles his biggest smile. He springs on and off the bed, which is thankfully sturdy. At times, all four paws leave the ground, and he likes to give me the high five with both front paws as we walk out the bedroom door. You have to be ready for that. (I'm extremely reluctant to "train" this behavior out of him because it's so integral to his person. We're used to it, but if you come to visit, be warned!)<br /><br />But Joey's message really starts my day off on the right foot. And he's got a point -- there's a lot to look forward to each day, especially before the day really starts; the possibilities are limitless, and I should be more than happy about that. Sky's the limit. Each and every day. Thank you my beloved Joey-dog for the not-so-gentle, but highly amusing reminder.<br /><br />You just can't have a bad day that begins like that.Patti Cahillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00130421247887699075noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6949501499842414543.post-17163478540030686502010-01-03T10:07:00.003-05:002010-01-05T10:53:59.199-05:00The Space Between<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbNSZeWQvHhQVPr3MhlFubKeFK47y7P-vog9ELsYVy09iWEJBg_ly11kRe7zw8YSfA0Pv5WmNd0nrtxrJ6VAbc-s3WPFabULrxTvGIp2yfBv5gl_UW-Q6D6ZK-IKGExO4MAmlLzqbsdlc/s1600-h/Wine+stopper+god.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 155px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422545405515499250" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbNSZeWQvHhQVPr3MhlFubKeFK47y7P-vog9ELsYVy09iWEJBg_ly11kRe7zw8YSfA0Pv5WmNd0nrtxrJ6VAbc-s3WPFabULrxTvGIp2yfBv5gl_UW-Q6D6ZK-IKGExO4MAmlLzqbsdlc/s400/Wine+stopper+god.jpg" /></a><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div>So, I've had this blog for a while, and I haven't been sure how to begin, but here's what's been on my mind lately...<br /><br /><div>I so enjoy the time for making/creating glass art between the last show of the previous year and the first show of the new year. What's wierd is that there is not much if any difference in the time between these two shows -- especially with Christmas and the holidays thrown in -- than any other two shows during a given year. So you'd think I'd feel exactly as stressed out as I usually do when preparing for the next show, since I generally have very little time between shows to do so.</div><br /><div>I do between 25 and 30 or so bead shows per year, so you do the math. I've had folks ask me, "So when do you make beads?" My smart answer is, "Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays." Which is pretty much true when you think about it. I travel to shows on Fridays, sell on Saturdays and Sundays, travel home on Mondays, and make new work on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. This cycle repeats itself 25-30 times per year. Good thing I like to drive my car, listen to books on tape, or music, and travel, or I'd be hating my life!</div><br /><div>I digress. So for some reason, I can creatively relax after the last show of the year. The puzzle is why, and how can I keep this feeling going all year long? It's been especially nice this year. Each day, I've been going into the studio to make beads, and just enjoying the here and now of it. I haven't really been thinking about the show coming up next weekend in Baltimore on the 9th and 10th. I haven't been thinking so much about what I "need" to make, and I've been enjoying making what I "want" to make. Each day, I go out into the studio and say, "What colors do I feel like today?" and this is what I work on. It's been nice. I feel connected again. I feel rejuvenated. I remember what I love about making beads. I remember what has kept me going for the past 15+ years.</div><br /><div>Now, how to keep this feeling of the New Year, as I think it helps me to create more work, and better work? I try to tell myself that folks understand that this is all handmade, and not produced in a factory somewhere, so sometimes there's not a lot of it. But what there is of it is very nice, eh? So wish me luck in trying to keep my attitude properly adjusted. Hey! I think I just made a New Year's resolution! I'd been rooting around for one...</div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Patti Cahillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00130421247887699075noreply@blogger.com4