About to Begin
Taken at Huntington Gardens, Pasadena, December 28, 2007.
I feel that usual holiday feeling of having dropped off the face of the earth, floating in a Milky Way of red and green ribbon, twinkling lights, wrapping paper and peppermint. Not a bad place to be, but I still must resist the sometimes overwhelming urge to remove any and all Christmas decorations the morning of December 26th and allow a minor level of disarray to exist in my home. I have managed to begin getting the house back to normal in stages, which has lately involved a great deal of laundry and the very gratifying task of finally hanging a stack of artwork and photos that have been leaning on walls and shelves for the past many months. I received a beautiful light blue version of this small file cabinet for Christmas, and I am now re-organizing the shelves in my studio to make room for this as well as more art supplies. The house is quiet and the weather outside still, and all the while my mind continues to be a swirl of ideas and images I will be exploring in my studio in 2008.
One project I have been working on for many weeks is my new inspirational blog, which will officially launch on January 1st. Take a peek at SPARKLETOPIA and tell me what you think when it comes to life in less than 48 hours. I look forward to your feedback and hope you like it enough to pass it along.
"No river can return to its source, yet all rivers must have a beginning." -Native American Proverb
Happy New Year!!
Merry and Bright
I am not exactly sure why, but today is turning out to be the day I feel like Christmas has officially begun. I ran errands to pick up extra wrapping paper and a few gifts and added finishing touches to the house before my mom arrives tomorrow. Almost all of the presents are wrapped, packages have been shipped, the house is twinkling and holiday music CDs are standing by to be played continually over the next few days. Christmas is here, and I am experiencing a strange combination of gratitude, melancholy, peace and excitement. I don’t think this is particularly uncommon…the holidays have a way of magnifying all kinds of emotions, memories, dreams and longings. Maybe my subconscious is taking advantage of this quiet moment to let a few things spill out, operating from an awareness that once tomorrow begins, Christmas begins, which looks to be filled with all kinds of fun and merriment. That time will come soon enough. For right now, I am simply listening to music, writing and letting the stillness seep through my bones.
I am tempted to delve into a memoir of this year, with lists of highs and lows, dreams realized and goals I’ve already set for the new year. I usually write an annual holiday letter to include with Christmas cards, but this year it didn’t happen – not even the cards. I thought I might feel more guilt about that, but as much as this year’s letter would have been filled with all kinds of exciting! fabulous! and crazy! adventures, I just wasn’t moved to sit down and write it. This was the year of too much in many ways, and perhaps it still feels too fresh in my mind, perhaps the idea of pulling up all the details of this year of overwhelm was too much to consider right now. It is not because I feel regretful or resentful, as 2007 was filled with many extraordinary gifts and has turned out to be a launching pad for a more meaningful chapter in my work and a deeper journey of deciphering my place in the world. I look to next year with arms open wide and feeling like my hair is blowing wildly in the wind, sun on my face, the air smelling of ocean waves and sand. Perhaps because my sights are so firmly set on the future, moreso than usual, it was too difficult to imagine putting so much focus on the past twelve months, lovely as they were.
I am feeling held and supported by the universe, that all is as it should be, that life will continue to offer me guideposts, gifts, lessons and beauty. I will dive into Christmas tomorrow carrying this delicate emotion with gentle hands, and I will do my best to share it, to let its light glimmer wherever illumination is needed.
Merry Christmas.
Growth After Destruction
[New growth in Malibu in an area burned by October's fires. Taken December 16, 2007.]
Sometimes we must be willing to let go of that one thing we think defines us, that one part of our selves that we believe makes us who we are. The idea of taking a torch to definitions we have assigned to ourselves can be frightening, but after the destruction, after the raging fires that may ensue, new growth will always – always – spring forth, in places we might have believed were incapable of sustaining life.
My New Mantra
"Only those who dare to fail greatly can ever achieve greatly." -Robert F. Kennedy
Whirlwind
Nine of ten new originals now up on Etsy to launch my first of monthly online sales!
Over the past 48 hours I have been a blur to anyone who might have been within 50 feet of me, trying to be an Artist as well as a Holiday Home Decorator/Party Planner. My husband and I are hosting a holiday fete for about 70 people from his work this evening, so I’ve had to be festive, creative and festively creative in order to make the house ready for the party and launch my first of new monthly online sales today. The good news is that the house is sparkling and I’ve already sold two pieces, and while I hesitate to dampen that good cheer with "bad news", I must admit I feel like I am reaching the end of my ability to be a Tasmanian Devil of a woman trying to balance my personal and professional lives.
Despite all the fun, color and creativity I have been indulging in this week, there has been a growing layer of anxiety and anger around the craziness of my days. I feel like I am in a race, that if I dare to sit still for more than ten minutes I will lose precious time trying to Get It All Done. This is not who I want to be; this is not the way to live life in the moment.
I don’t think I am alone in struggling with this, and I would love to open up the floor, so to speak, to learn about how everyone deals with this. I have made it a priority to get my life back in better balance, and this started with my first session with a career coach on Monday. A little background to new readers: my husband and I moved to LA three years ago, and in that time we have moved five times and traveled a great deal. On top of this the learning curve from quiet life with a semi-retired boyfriend in Solvang to life in the fast lane in Los Angeles with high-powered career huband has taken about this long for me to figure out. Because of all this, I would say more than half my time has been occupied by things other than work over the past three years.
I am fine with my choices – it was the way things had to be for a while, unsettled and in unfamiliar territory – and I’m not about to complain that I’ve been fortunate enough to indulge in one of my greatest passions, travel. However, I have realized that certain habits are now deeply ingrained that make my ability to manage my time effectively for work practically non-existent. I have developed a mindset that makes me downright fearful of diving too deeply into my work because I worry that some other personal distraction will pull me away at the most inconvenient moment. I have moments of perfect clarity about where I want to go and where I am capable of going with my work, and these experiences are always accompanied by a little voice saying, "Don’t get too carried away…"
The truth is, I am ready to get carried away…I want to leap off the cliff as boldly as I can. I did it twelve years ago with Swirly, and I am ready to do it again. To think big. To follow through. To create a grand vision and stay on that path.
I will be working with this career coach on a number of projects, but the biggest part of the work we will be doing is addressing this fearful voice. It will not do any good for me to come up with action plans and timelines if I continue to live my life in the patterns that have been formed ever since moving to LA. I have been taking large and small steps over the past many weeks to shift things as much as I can, but I am now ready to burn these fears to the ground and begin the new year with a better structure in place for managing my personal life and my professional life.
I believe this is a particularly difficult struggle for women, as we are the caretakers, the nurturers, the ones who make our homes a haven for our husbands and families. My priority is my marriage and I get a great deal of fulfillment within all of my responsibilities as my husband’s wife, but I also know that I do not do myself or our home any good if I take too much time and energy away from my own identitiy, independence and work. And this is exactly where my greatest challenges exist – in that space where I could do laundry or I could start a new painting, in those moments where I have to choose between cleaning up the kitchen or creating a new blog entry. Those seemingly mundane moments have become the most pivotal, where I am faced with two facets of my life that have turned into two opposing forces. They do not need to be at war with one another, but in order for greater harmony to develop between them, I must now be willing to do whatever work needs to be done to create a healthier balance. The deepest mining is about to begin.
**********
Ten new paintings were created for my first monthly online sale at special introductory prices, and three have already sold. Order by next Wednesday, December 19 for Christmas delivery!
Sneak Preview
The first creation from my latest girl series :: 5" x 7" on wood. Going on sale Wednesday!
I have had a motto of "No time like the present" lately. Building my new inspirational blog, hosting trial run creative workshops at the last minute, and beginning a new venture into monthly online sales have all taken up space in my studio time with spur of the moment beginnings. After allowing many ideas for 2008 to stew in my brain for a number of weeks, it is as if I’ve found myself on the edge of a cliff now and then and instead of taking more time to ponder how I might make the leap I’ve just gone and leapt without really planning anything specific. I have always loved something Julia Cameron said: "Leap, and the net will appear." It seems as though I have said these words to myself enough that they have taken hold and become the driving force in my work. It is easy to get caught up in planning and organizing and waiting for that "perfect moment" to begin something new, and I like to believe that I am beginning these new ventures at the perfect moment simply because the actual beginning is what makes them perfect. The beginning isn’t perfect because I carefully wove a safety net and harnessed myself to a safety rope; the beginning is perfect because it is…because I have taken the leap, and suddenly…I’m off and soaring.
The piece shown above is the first new creation that, along with nine others, will be posted on my Etsy site by noon this Wednesday, December 12th. All pieces are 5" x 7" on wood, mixed media with a UV varnish, signed and ready to hang. These creations will be offered for $85 each + shipping, a special price for this first monthly sale. I look forward to sharing the rest of my new pieces with you!
In the meantime, I am so excited my friend Ann Howley got her Etsy shop up and running. Ann has traveled the globe to capture extraordinary photographs, and her passport makes me green with envy!! Check out her beautiful work and be transported to another world.
Delicate
Today is Monday, I have already posted a blog entry today and have just a couple of hours before ten women come knocking on my door to participate in my first creativity workshop trial run. So what do I decide to do before I complete the final tasks for this evening’s event? Write another blog entry that won’t be posted for a couple of days. On the one hand I could interpret this as a very obvious sign my time management skills might need honing. On the other hand, I’ve had these thoughts swirling around in my brain all day, and after pondering a laundry list of potential blog entries lately – only a small portion of which ultimately get written – I decided to try a new blogging tactic: write when the mood strikes me whenever possible.
The topic I feel compelled to write about immediately is nothing new to many in the blogging community. It was, in fact, the main and most turbulent topic of conversation at an artist’s retreat I went to this summer. The topic is money, and after spending the past many weeks examining my financial goals and pursuits as an artist I have gained a good bit of clarity on where my priorities lie in this respect.
This issue came up today because of an email I received. A few of my pieces are now on display at a friend’s boutique, and in our back and forth emails discussing how they should be priced, I was told at one point that some of her customers were "shocked" at the price range we were working with. My response to this little snippet was this:
"I find it so funny – or at least I should say I have to try to find it funny – when people are so horrified at prices for art that are actually incredibly reasonable. I suppose for some people the idea of creating art will never be seen as something that actually involves work and therefore worthy of certain pricing….I have struggled with pricing my work from day one and find it an incredibly frustrating task."
My comments were not directed at my friend, as I know she understands completely where I am coming from, but I could not stop myself from ranting at the idea that these prices – only half of which I will ultimately receive – were so off the charts in people’s minds.
Trying to "make it" as a "fine artist" who exhibits and sells through galleries and shows has been a strange trip, made all the more difficult from having such inconsistent studio time. Setting prices for my work has felt like a total crapshoot at times, but I have always tried to err on the side of valuing my work. I would even say I’ve been downright ballsy with my pricing at times, as if to dare someone to challenge the way I value my lifetime of experience as an artist and established licensed brand under my belt. Upping the ante price-wise has not been about greed, but about wanting to avoid anything that smacks of undervaluing my work because so many people are used to seeing art as frivolous and/or easy for artists. I have tried to be bold with pricing to set a precedent for other artists. When talented artists undervalue their work, the bar is lowered for all of us, and I’ve risked coming across as arrogant because I want to break down the myth that art must be about sacrifice and financial suffering. Just as investment bankers, grocery store clerks and florists work to make a living, so do artists. Our bills are not any less than our neighbors’; our need to save for a rainy day no less imperative.
It is a delicate balance between undervaluing one’s work and pricing it too high for one’s audience. I have dipped my toe in a variety of various galleries, venues and pricing structures, and have found that my greatest success (i.e. pricing structure that works for me and my buyers) has come from projects I handle myself and entities that focus heavily on celebrating independent artists in a grassroots way (i.e. Etsy). My goals for next year aim to share my work in that place of balance – where I am creating work I am proud of, buyers are purchasing art that moves and inspires them at prices they are comfortable with, and I feel satisfied with what I am earning for my experience, talent and efforts. It has taken me a long time to get here, to this place of figuring how to create this balance and put it into action. Of course I could still get it totally wrong, but in the meantime I’ll keep moving forward, and hopefully share some light along the way.
One of my new ventures in this direction is to post a new series of smaller works each month, beginning next Wednesday, December 12. Ten new 5" x 7" creations will be posted on Etsy at special introductory prices. Mark your calendars for my first unveiling, just in time for the holidays!
Empty Nest
One of our guest bedrooms, recently transformed into Camp Justin, 48 hours ago.
Time has a funny way of compressing and becoming slippery as moments of anticipation draw near. About a month ago my husband’s son Justin took over part of our house for his last month in Los Angeles before he left to begin a new chapter in Boulder, CO. When he first started living here, it felt like we had all the time in the world to hang out, share dinners and discuss all the excitement surrounding his decision to pack up, quit his job and start anew a few states over. The days felt long; the evenings lingered.
About a week ago the energy in our house shifted ever so slightly, as if the refrigerator began humming one octave lower, and beneath all the normal comings and goings the reality of Justin leaving sank in a little bit deeper for all of us. By the time his going away party started this past weekend, we were all finally admitting to ourselves and to each other that Justin was actually…moving.
He drove away this morning, waving good-bye all the way down the street with trailer in tow, while his dad (my husband), sister and I waved furiously back. Not too long after, I came upstairs to find Camp Justin looking incredibly bare and lonely:
It is an emotional journey to travel through moments where your happiness and excitement for someone you love exists alongside the normal yet selfish desire for things to remain exactly as they are. We would all much rather have Justin here; we are all sad to see him go. But beneath this veneer of longing, beyond the tears that have been shed and will continue to fall from time to time, Justin has a passionate cheering section wanting nothing more than for him to go, go, go and live his life to the fullest. Justin left today with a packed trailer that now houses almost everything he owns and a mountain of love and support that could have carried him to the moon if that is where he had set his sights. Lucky for us, he chose a location that is a short plane ride away.
As he was saying good-bye to all the friends who came to his going away party Saturday night, I couldn’t help but think about all the lucky souls in Boulder who, right now, have no idea that they are about to meet Justin. Right now there are people going to work, walking their dogs, riding their bicycles and doing whatever they normally do completely unaware that their lives are about to be blessed by a brave, creative adventurer who is now on his way to their community to make his mark. We do not know who these people are, but whoever they turn out to be should consider themselves lottery winners. It will not be too long after meeting Justin that they understand this, for to have the wonderful fortune of being a part of Justin’s life is to feel like a special ray of joy shines in your world everyday.
For me, that joy will not diminish just because he is farther away. This is a light that I carry with me at all times, a source of strength and compassion I turn to probably much more than Justin realizes. Justin’s light will only magnify as he continues to grow more fully into his own skin and discover new sources of power and wisdom within himself. To be able to witness this firsthand is a tremendous honor, and as I sit here now, in a house that has a Justin-shaped hole in it, I cannot decide whether I need to sob or laugh out loud at the thrill of it all. I imagine I will probably do a little bit of both these next few days, and in between I will simply smile, because to know Justin is to smile a lot…at his humor, his sensitivity, his passion, his drive and his generosity…at the very simple fact of just knowing him, and being able to call him your family.
To read about Justin’s adventures – and wish him well – visit his new blog here.
