Work in Progress

I thought it might be interesting to start showing some work in progress. I created this new Studio graphic from a photo I recently took and then altered in Photoshop Elements. Whenever you see this image at the top of my post, you’ll know its a Work in Progress update.

During a recent interview, one of the questions the writer asked is how I work. Ricë wanted to know if I had an idea and then sat down and completed it in a linear fashion from start to finish. Unfortunately, this isn’t my process, though it was when I first began doing mixed-media. As I explained to Ricë, these days my daily life is managed in chunks of time. This has impacted my creative time as well. This means I will work on things in stages and have projects in process at all the different stations I have in my studio. At first blush, it looks like a frenetic and messy way to work, but it’s how I manage to keep moving and juggle my plate.

The absolute worst thing for me is when I’m forced to completely clean my studio for a photograph. It’s like when I put things away I spend too much time searching for them again. My saving grace; tons of clear plastic shoe boxes from Costco to hold all the similar parts that I can make and rifle through when it comes time to finish a piece. (On a messy note, I do a once a month “sweep through” to keep my things from completely overtaking my space, but it never looks truly tidy.)

Like Ricë, I’m also fascinated by how working artists manage their time. Some people I know go deep into their work and don’t come up for air until their bodies force them to with a need for food or sleep. Others work a fairly 9-5 stint while their kids are in school or spouses off at work. Still others work around the clock, moving from laundry and carpools to teaching workshops, making samples and writing articles. Obviously, I fall in the latter category. I can’t imagine not having my studio in my home!

So, as promised, here are some pics of a project I’m working on for a Stampington deadline in 2 weeks. It’s a journal, and my inspiration is texture. I began earlier in the month with a painting playdate one morning with my daughter. The papers shown above are mine and not hers (lol). A few weeks later and another couple of hours resulted in finished front and back covers. In the next few days, I plan to work on collaging the inside pages, adding some photo transfers and then some journaling. Knowing myself as well as I do, the entire thing will get packaged and mailed off just in time to land on the editor’s desk the day of deadline. We can’t all be perfect! (grin)

I hope you enjoyed this little peek into my studio. Now it’s your turn. Tell me, what is your work in progress and what’s your creative process?  Inquiring minds want to know!

Me? Award Winner, OMG!

It’s Sunday night as I write this post. Winter CHA is over. We packed up the booth Wednesday, finishing about 5:30 p.m. and had one last quiet dinner in Anaheim. Thursday was spent on the road traveling I-10 home. I spent all day Friday snuggling my daughter, playing tea parties and taking a long 2.5 hour nap with her. I made my son his favorite dinner too. The weekend has been unpacking, cleaning my studio and home and reflecting on the days that passed and the events that transpired.

Obviously, the most amazing thing that happened to me this trade show is that I won the Plaid New Horizons Award for the CHA Designer member whose been in business 1-5 years. Marisa Pawelko, the Modern Surrealist, won the award for 5+ years. It’s a cash award — $1,500 each (!) However, the thing that means the most is the personal handwritten note and signed card from Mike McCooey, the President of Plaid.

I’ve been thinking about the award and all that it means to me. In addition, I’ve been thinking about what to write here on my blog about the experience. Honestly, I’m still at a loss. I feel like I need another week, at least, to process it, but in Internet time that would be like talking about something that happened a decade ago. So, I’m diving in, feeling like my words are all thumbs and my tongue is tied in knots.

Obviously, the words honored and blessed come to mind. So do humble and grateful. Interestingly enough, I find the adjectives fierce and powerful also seem to want to be part of my award thesaurus. Winning an award of this magnitude makes me feel proud from my bangs to my toenails. I’m still trying to wrap my brain around it. Me? New Horizons Award Winner? GET OUTTA TOWN!

If you’re like my husband or family, you’re probably wondering what project I designed to win this award. That’s the kicker, I didn’t. This award is such a high honor because only CHA Designer members can apply and Plaid executives decide the winners. It’s based on a body of work as a Designer, in addition to the professional steps you’ve taken, such as writing books and articles, teaching, community service and your short-term and long-term business goals. You have to say exactly how you plan to spend Plaid’s hard-earned money working toward a better future for yourself. This award is an investment by one of the largest and most influential craft manufacturers in the people they choose as winners. This means this year, they choose me. (Hit me with a two-by-four now please).

As I said, it’s going to take me a while to digest all of this. However, there are a few things I know for sure, and Plaid’s faith in me made it crystal clear. I am meant to do this. I have a passion for this industry. As a lifelong crafter and self-taught artist, I’ve been creating with every product imaginable for most of my life. I get excited when I walk into Hobby Lobby or Michaels and see something that inspires me. I love being both a customer and an educator at independent stores whose owners share the same passion for creativity as I do. I feel a jolt of positive energy every time I’m fortunate enough to stand before a group of mostly women at mixed-media art retreats to teach them techniques that inspire them to take their creativity to new heights.

Seriously, somebody pinch me.

Looking for freedom

Spring has begun its warm ascent. The weather is gorgeous, and it makes me want to play outside, rather than stay inside and do the Spring cleaning my studio so desperately needs after long winter months of constant creating for the book, class proposals and deadlines.

I look at my mess and want to run. Like the sweet little hummingbird I caught on camera last week, I want to spread my wings and fly somewhere where my responsibilities would never in a million years catch up with me. Mainly, the home responsibilities of needing to sort and sift and move out the physical things I no longer require in my life that are taking up space in my home.

The problem is a cluttered studio represents my brain right now. My mind is full of half-done projects that need to be finished before I can turn my sights on the new things I want to tackle — now, right now, as in today.

I tend to create in chaos. I have to see my things to be able to pull from them. I had made a promise to myself after I spent 4 days last summer completely re-doing my studio that I would never again allow the floor to get so cluttered that I had to step over books and magazines to work. A promise I would always have a neat square on my bench to make new jewelry creations. Alas, my good intentions evaporated after a full winter of extreme busyness.

Now it the time to begin again. To be renewed, like the flowering fig tree that is blooming cherry pink as I look out my kitchen window. I must take this instinct to run for freedom and turn it to that which needs to be done. It’s called being a grown up. It’s what I teach my children — being grateful for the bounty of our lives and for taking personal responsibility for our things that serve us so well.

It’s time for spring cleaning. The feeling of happiness will return as soon as I do the hard work of sorting and donating and tossing.

Studio pics

Much like my art, my studio space has been a work in progress. When we gutted and re-built our home four years ago, I had BIG dreams of what my studio was going to look like. I had made sketches and collected images from magazines as to what I wanted. I dreamed of creating in a huge, light-filled space with funky thrift store furniture I repainted Shabby Chic style.

  
Then reality hit. We ran out of money. Remodels are like that. Before we began, friends told us to budget 35% more time and money that you originally think its going to take. Since we were doing it on a shoestring budget as it was, we ignored the advice and jumped in feet first.

Much to our chagrin, our friends were correct. By the time we got to my studio space $$$ were long gone. My studio became the junk room where everything got piled that we had no idea what to do with.

I carved out a tiny spot in the room for my worktable and my supplies that were boxed in big clear tubs purchased from Home Depot. Things stayed that way for 18 months.

Then I found out I was pregnant at the same time I took on a new job. My studio turned into the baby's room. Friends came to help one day and moved all the junk from one room to another. Even my organized spot became a jumbled mess.

I started working at the kitchen table just as I did all those years ago when the house was a 950 square feet.

The wake up call came when I got a third-degree burn on my leg because I was not using my torch safely as I was making jewelry. I had a 12×12 (inches) square space to work and I was putting my torch up on the table to use it and then down on the floor when I was finished. Hot torch next to fleshy thigh = OUCH!

It took me four solid days over the Labor Day weekend of cleaning and sorting and tossing. My mother-in-law watched my kids, my hubby helped me lift eh big stuff and I did nothing (and I mean NOTHING) but work to turn my studio a functioning space.

When it was finally finished, I took out my notebook of my sketches and pictures of the studio of my dreams. The new space looks nothing like it, except for things being neat.

 
However, I am happy in my new space. It is clean and functional and everything has its place. I honestly kicked my art supply hoarding problem in those four days. When I finish a project, I clean up so my tables are neat and my tools are waiting in their spots the next time I sit down to work.

 
I might someday get that light-filled shabby chic studio of my dreams. But for now, it's enough to be living my dreams. What I've learned is that where I work is not as important as the work itself. Honing my skills, breathing life into my sketches is a far more important use of my time right now.