Summer of (Self) Absorption

It's been a very challenging year, full of successes and low points, both personally and professionally. And as I finally return to the blog, on the eve of yet another birthday (didn't I decree that I would stop having them by now?? You can only be "29 again" so many times...) I am coming to the close of Summer '09 with a lot on my plate. And one of the biggest high points of the year is my learning more and more about jewelry fabrication and metalsmithing. And even being able to fabricate somewhat regularly (!).

For those of you who are unfamiliar with jewelry design and creation, what this means technically is that I now have a torch set up at home in the studio, so that I can solder design elements together. Previously none of my work was soldered together and I used what are known as "cold joining" techniques to create my designs. Now I also use heat. A bit trickier than anything else I've ever done, but oh-so-rewarding.

It's by no means easy; I very much consider myself a baby metalsmith, but this baby is on her way to...well, who knows where the path will lead, but I can't wait to get there. I have so many things I want to learn, to design, to create, to share with the world and my fabulous customers. I can't wait to get in the studio every chance I get. And I am soaking up everything I can possibly learn so I have even more tools in the toolbox to play with.

The journey actually began last year, when a good friend generously allowed me to come to her own studio once a week for several months. She taught me many things about working with metal, allowed me to use her tools and her torch, and really pushed me to explore and learn. And I do mean pushed. She's a fantastic teacher, although her method with me often went something like this: (her) "What the hell are you doing?" (me) "I'm soldering." (her) "Like that?!" and she'd take the torch from me, sit down, and show me exactly how to do it. It might not work for everyone, but it made things so clear for me that it pushed me much further ahead than I would have gotten in a year of classes elsewhere. And so, with a lot of eye-rolling, hair-pulling, gnashing of teeth and wringing of hands (plus a lot of scrap silver - the 'smithing learning curve is littered with scrap metal pieces), the Insights collection was born. And I was on my way!

But I still didn't feel comfortable with my skills and I didn't know what to do next. I showed at festivals all spring and into the summer, played with the torch a bit, but I felt stumped. I didn't know what to make with my newfound abilities.Or how to learn all the other techniques I wanted to know. So I took a jewelry fabrication class. It started in June, and oh, what a tough month June was! I made the class projects, came home and made more for  practice, and they turned out fairly respectable, but I still didn't know how to use my new skills creatively. I could barely stand waiting for a whole week to go by before the next class, because I was dying to learn. I re-read my already extensive library of jewelry making books. I re-read my already extensive library of jewelry making magazines. I bought more books. I highlighted and tabbed pages for future references. I sat online for hours, reading information from jewelry sites and chat groups. I thought about jewelry making all the time...but I didn't know what to make!

This continued through July...I was learning techniques, practicing them, and yet...nothing original. Nothing that I put together creatively. It was just practicepracticepractice with no creative spark driving me. But then, slowly, I started playing with some metal design elements that I had made previously. I joined them together. I took them apart. I re-joined them. I hammered them. I polished them. And slowly, a look started to emerge. Something was unveiling itself...the stirrings of another set of designs. When I got the first one completed, I was crazy with excitement. So I completed another. And another. Now the collection is growing, and I am trying to find time to start creating the NEXT collection, and all the others crowding at the door.

I've spent the last few years focused on many other business-related issues, but I'd allowed my skill set and creativity to grow stagnant. And that was hurting me in so many ways. Allowing myself the time and freedom to focus on learning again has made a world of difference. It's as if I finally found a way over a wall that had trapped me for so long, and now I can see far into the distance. What's out there is unclear, but every step is moving me forward, toward the endless possibilities that shimmer so enticingly. I'm on a fantastic journey, and every step is full of joy. Bring it on! I can't wait to know what happens next...

Shake it Up...Creatively

A funny thing happens when people think you're creative. They want you to know that they're *not*. They'll say things like, "I wish *I* were creative", or (wistfully) "It would be great to be creative", or the old standard: "I'm not creative".

And to them I say, that's crap. Well, mostly I don't say it to them directly. That kind of shuts down any developing warm fuzzies between us. But I believe we're all creative in different ways. My husband, for example, says he's not creative. But he's the biggest out-of-the-box thinker I know. And the man loves nothing more than being handed a challenge, and solving it. He's a born fixer, and he uses all sorts of creative solutions to do his fixin'. Just because he doesn't create "art", for lack of a better term, doesn't make him uncreative.

I have to admit, I never felt creative myself until I began designing jewelry. And then it was like the ideas couldn't stop coming...sixteen years since I began, and I have never lost my passion for jewelry design. I only want to learn more, and push my skills further all the time. And feeling creative in that arena led me to be open to creativity in other ways. Playing with color, for example. I wasn't always so bold about mixing colors, and now I do it almost without thinking. Starting a business. Writing a blog. Taking more risks. Being less afraid of confrontation, when necessary. Approaching the people I want to get to know, rather than waiting for them to (maybe) approach me. And you know what? I'm happier because of it.

If you don't feel creative, shake up your perspective! Are you a problem solver? Are you innovative in your work, whatever work that may be? Do you relish challenges and find imaginative ways to solve them? Do you ask yourself, "What if...?" Are you willing to try new ideas, avenues, activities? I believe all of these (and more) are indicators of being open to creativity.

Take a class. Try something new. Buy something in an unusual (for you) color...for your home or your wardrobe. Do something that feels like a risk to you. Let yourself be open to possibilities you may have overlooked before. You never know where a creative path will lead you...

What It Takes

A recent (and less than complimentary) comment  from someone at a festival made me realize that most attendees have no idea what it takes for an artist to actually *be* at the festival. Which isn't surprising; after all, most of you have never applied to one, have you?  Then you're smarter than me.  :)

Here's what's involved in exhibiting at an art festival:

1. Submitting to the event:

- Filling out the application. Submitting images of your work. "Submitting images" can mean many things: 1. actual photos. 2. slides. 3. a CD of images. 4. online application and images. And you'd better have all of them on hand because each show wants something different.

Oh, and those images? For a competitive medium like jewelry, they need to be top-notch. Which, for most of us, means paying a professional for photos. That can run several hundred dollars (some of the best pros charge about $100 per image; most shows want 3-4 images to review). And even if your images are fabulous, there are so many submissions for so few jewelry spots, that many, many hopefuls will be disappointed every year.

And it's best not to submit to the same show for more than two years with the same images. Juries like to have "new" and "fresh" work to review. And if they see the same shots every year, they can think your work is "stale" and be more inclined to select someone else over you. So you'll have to pay that photographer at least every two years (some people do this every year) for new images.

Plus you have to submit a booth photo. And your booth had better look professional. Or individual. Or creative. Or...all of these things. Or...some of them. Or not. The "booth shot" is often the trickiest part of submitting to a festival. Juries are never clear on what they want from the booth shot, so we artists are left to guess. And hope. :)


- The jury fee. Most of the high end shows are juried. That means an artist will pay typically from $25 - $45 just to be reviewed by the jury. This does not guarantee that they will be accepted into the show. Nope - you pay for the privilege of just being looked at. So if an artist does 20 shows a year, assuming (on the low end) a $25 jury fee for each, that's $500, just for the jury process. Booth fees are a whole other expense.

2. The Waiting.

- After you've submitted, the waiting period begins. Often there is a space of several months between when you've submitted your application and when you will be notified about the event. If you make a living exhibiting at these events, this can be very nerve-wracking. You never know from year to year whether you'll be invited to attend. Which means you can't plan your potential income until you know one way or another. And I do mean potential income...just because you made it over all the hurdles and got yourself accepted, is no guarantee of anything...except that you will now pay, on average, anywhere from $200 to $500 for the privilege of having a space there for the duration of the show.

3. The Acceptance. Or Non-acceptance. Or Limbo - the Wait List.

- So the notification day arrives, and you are ecstatic! You've been accepted! If this is the case, you start planning ASAP. How much inventory do you need to have? Do you want or need to make changes to the booth? If so, what changes?  Do I have enough business cards, packaging, receipts, etc., etc. Of course, as previously mentioned, acceptance to a show by no means guarantees that you will make money at it! The show will bring the shoppers (at least the better ones will, and the weather is good), but it's up to YOU to make sure that your booth invites them in, and that  your product and pricing invites them to purchase.

- Or you've not been accepted. You are disappointed. You try not to take it personally, but sometimes you can't help it. The rejection is especially painful when you have exhibited at a show in the past and then are not invited to exhibit the next time. If you are a sensitive artist type (which, if you weren't, you wouldn't have applied in the first place, right?), you can start to question your validity. One rejection is one thing. A whole slew of them is another issue entirely. The tricky part about being rejected is that you will likely never know WHY. Is it your booth? Your creations? The way they were photographed? Should you quit and get a "regular" job? Should you change what you're designing? Are you still fabulous but there was just too much competition for too few spaces?


- Or you've been Wait Listed. This is a little form of hell devised to keep you bouncing from "I won't get accepted" to "I really, really hope I get accepted" to the show. Being on the wait list, as my husband likes to say, isn't a rejection. And as I like to respond, it isn't an acceptance, either. It means you didn't quite make it, but if something happens to another artist, you might be able to exhibit after all. So you have to hope that you have the opportunity...without hoping that something bad happens to the person who was previously accepted. Tricky balancing act, there.

(BTW, remember the jury fee? Well, if you submit for a show and you plan your income around selling at that show, what happens when you are not accepted? No income, of course. So many artists will "double book" (submit for more than one show on the same date), hedging their bets that they will get to show somewhere. So that $500 in jury fees can easily double to $1000 or more. And what happens if you are accepted to two shows at the same time? Well...jury fees are nonrefundable. So you will sacrifice some fees along the way, if you get accepted to two shows and then have to decline one.

4. The Actuality

- The day of the event arrives. The event starts at 10 a.m. You are there by 6 a.m. to set up. Let's not think about what time this means you actually GOT up. Maybe, if you're lucky / have a simple booth / don't have a lot of set up to do / the Universe is on your side that day,  you arrive by 8 a.m...wth all the other people who are exhibiting. Ever tried to manage 400 exhibitors who all have to be set up by 10 a.m.? I am always impressed at whatever magic the show staff works to make this happen. All those vehicles, all those artists trying to get unloaded and fit everything they've brought into a 10' x 10' space! At the same time!

- You're set up and ready for the show to start. It's hot. Or it's cold. Or it's raining. Or it's windy. One of the most difficult things about exhibiting at outside festivals is that the weather can change in an instant.

-Rain is not good because: 1. It often drives the shoppers away. 2. The nicer and more expensive your booth display, the more likely it is not going to mix well with water. 3. It's no fun to be out in the pouring rain in a temporary (and possibly leaking, if it rains hard enough) structure.

- Wind is not good because: 1. It can be devastating, plain and simple. If you work in glass, and a good gust catches your tent or display, you can have thousands of dollars' worth of work (not to mention all the time invested in it) crash to the ground in seconds. Ditto for ceramicists. Even if your creations are less fragile, you still can lose your booth entirely (don't doubt it - anyone who has been on the show circuit for a while has seen, or experienced, an entire tent lifting off the ground and blowing away, or has seen the aftermath of a wind-destroyed tent). Even if none of that happens, the wind can cause such havoc that customers don't want to stick around.

- Heat is not good - though better than wind or rain - because: 1. While warm sunny weather can work to your advantage, if you happen to have been assigned a shadeless spot for your booth, and it's 90+ degrees for 5 straight hours, you are going to be very miserable. Spending several hours in the blazing sun can result in sunburns, heat exhaustion, dehydration. Why not stay inside the tent? Often the tent will get so warm / humid that you can't stand to be in there, even though it's the only shade you have. Not to mention that if you're sweltering inside your  tent, shoppers aren't going to hang around for long.

5. The Moving On

- The show is over. You made your necessary income, or you didn't. Either way, everyone is going home. One thing I haven't mentioned is the physicality of exhibiting at shows. That 10' x 10' tent? It' s not exactly featherweight (otherwise it might blow away in the wind). Those weights on each corner, to help keep it stable? They're 40 pounds each. But they can feel like twice that during load-out. All the tables / cases / signage / display items / walls and wall hangings / floor / the actual creations you bring...it's quite a bit to haul around. You possibly are still sore and tired from setting up. You've been on your feet for 10 or more hours for two (or more) days in a row. Now you're taking it all down again. If you're lucky, you can get your vehicle close to your tent to load out. More likely, you'd better bring a hand truck because you don't want to be carrying those heavy loads too far.

- You get home, unload, reorganize, and start the process all over again for the next show. Depending on your schedule (and how many shows have accepted you), that could be next month, next week, or in two days...

So...any of you ready to board the festival train?? Hm. No takers? Can't say I blame you. Just try not to dismiss what we do so easily the next time you see us there...now that you know what it takes to have gotten us there.  :)