Where Has the Time Gone?

 

I was so proud of keeping up with my posts on a regular basis...even if it was only once a month. How on earth did I go from August to DECEMBER without realizing I'd missed posting?

Well, it has been pretty busy, actually. I was thinking about it a couple of weeks ago and I realized that I've been working like I did when I was in my 30s over the past few months




.

I guess that isn't exactly accurate either. I'm working smarter than I did when I was in my 30s. I'm getting more than 2 hours of sleep most nights. I'm taking better care of myself and my health. When I'm feeling really, really broken or exhausted I stop for a bit. I've said “no” to a few things. So maybe not quite like I did when I was in my 30s, but...long days, 7 days a week most of the time...working hard, working constantly.

There is another difference. More of the work is either “for” me, or what I'm increasingly seeing as the “right” kind of work. That also means there is less money involved – certainly for most of it there isn't a financial paycheque, but it pays in other ways.

August, September, October, even into November there was a chunk of work going into the yard – the building of my little permaculture paradise. The harvesting of what was a pretty meager bunch of stuff this year – for all the planting I did, all the annual seeds, with the crazy weather and the extreme wet, very little thrived. The trees and the perennials did, and that was more important to me this year. But not so much the things I thought I'd be harvesting. There was also the things I did to help a neighbour or two in their gardens, and what they so generously let me harvest from their bounty. Or what they harvested and then gifted excess to us. All of that needed to be processed or packed away so that it didn't go to waste, and as little as there may have been it ate up a lot of time. The more of your own food you create the closer to a full time job it becomes, but hey, eating is of pretty prime importance on my list.

Circumstances and events also have me providing more care for some local animals, chief cook and chambermaid as it were. This is something I'm happy to do, no matter the time it takes. The time spent is invaluable, important and has its own set of rewards. It won't be forever, and I have the time to give, so it is what I choose to do. No obligations, no expectations, it is just the right thing to do. And there is no questioning the appreciation I receive in return – I'm making a difference, however small.

I had thought this was going to be a quiet time, so I decided to take a course as well, during this period. Well, it turns out it wasn't a quiet time, but I'd already committed to the course, so...

Then there was the fact that I lucked into a really great part-time job, which also does provide a paycheque, and makes a difference in my day-to-day. I get to work with some great people and it offers me a lot to learn. It gets me introduced to a bit of the local community. Not to mention it is in an absolutely delicious environment...cheese has always been one of my favourite food groups!

I've even had a little bit of wig building work – again, grateful for that for both the income it provides and for keeping my skills intact. Plus knotting is still something I very much enjoy.

 

Through all of this, I've been putting in a lot of work on Elfworks. I've been trying to get some things photographed, supposedly for getting more things up on the website, which hasn't happened, but I'm not giving up just yet. I was accepted into the Museum of Dufferin's annual Holiday Treasures show again this year, and I was determined to have at least a few new designs beyond a few new pewter pieces for it. I did, in fact, manage to design and execute some new product, and a few new designs. I've been trying to keep up with photographing things in process, both for publication here and for more detailed articles that I put up on my Patreon Page https://www.patreon.com/elfworksstudios . 

 

So, I have been writing, I've just missed writing here – I put up at least 2 things per month on the Patreon page, though I strive for more. I have a number of half-researched articles I'm working on for that being kicked into shape, if more slowly than I'd like. And while I did miss a few weeks, I've also been trying to keep up my social media posts on Facebook and Instagram as best I can. 

 

So all in all, I guess it isn't all that surprising that this blog got away from me, though I certainly didn't mean to let it happen. I'm picking up the torch again, and will strive to keep up. I'm not sure things have quieted down all that much, but I seem to have a slightly better handle on some of them. A few things are finished up and some have just become a little more manageable. I'm working on an exciting new project for Elfworks, that I can't talk about just yet, and I'm very pleased with how well it is coming along. I have plans for a number of other projects once it is finished, and we are continuing to work on the forge space. The winter months will likely also see some more space renovations get underway, opening up lots of new opportunities and possibilities for making.

 

I look forward to telling you more about the ups and downs here, and whats going on. I'll make every effort to get back to regular postings and keep those who are interested in following along in the loop. If I don't get back here before then, I wish everyone the happiest of Holiday seasons, whatever you celebrate (even if all you celebrate is having some time off.)

Every Now and Every Then

Knowing when you need to focus outwards on the world around you and when to acknowledge it but remain focused on where you are and what you are doing is a horrible tightrope to walk. Those outside your inner realms will often jump up and down and accuse you of being selfish and uncaring. But sometimes, you need to be true not only to yourself, but to all of those who have shown you support and encouraged you to do what you do. Taking everything on and taking everything to heart can't be done. We are very small creatures in a very big world, and an even bigger universe.

But how do you know when you are hiding from what is happening and when you are honouring what needs to be done?  

The first part of this post was written ages ago, but I think it is pertinent to the times.  The continuing and ever changing wave of pandemic pressures and uncertainties.  Things may be "opening up" but everyone is going to have to continue to navigate a "new normal" unless they are willfully ignoring the realities of things - as some always will.  I don't think it is time even for the "new normal" to begin, but I understand everyone's need to believe it is here.

In July of this year I was pretty much a lump.  I had been very active for the first 6 months, working on everything - from garden to digital ventures, creating to cataloguing,  writing to fiddling.  When July hit, it all came crashing down.  My 2nd vaccine took me out for a few days.  Then I twisted something - my ankle I think.  It was rainy, I was tired and sore and I just never got up to speed.  I kept doing things that gave me twinges - sore wrist, sore ankle again, sore legs.  Some of that is probably because with all the other things that stopped in July, I also stopped stretching every morning.  Probably, I just needed a break.  

The one thing I did do plenty of in July was read.  I put aside the pile of non-fiction I'm working through and gave in to a host of old favourites from my fiction shelves.  It gave me a chance to reset a little, and I managed (mostly) to ignore the ticking of the clock of the time I have to get things done! and the voice in the back of my head telling me to get up and get at it.

It helped me to refocus, to get energized for some projects that didn't involve all things growing.  It eased me into revisiting things I realize once or twice a year and then seem to promptly forget or ignore.  Things I often write about here, but having given it a glancing acknowledgement then fail to put into practice.  (Like, maybe if I gave myself a day off every once in a while I would be less likely to need to fall down for a whole month?)

So far, August has been closer to the norm - I'm working on prototyping some new pieces, getting work done outside when weather permits, trying to get back to writing, photographing, cataloguing etc.  I'm trying not to push too hard, trying not to feel rushed.  I'm not back into my pile of non-fiction just yet, but I'm continuing to devour stories, myths and legends.  Every time I reset, I try to do a little better, on some level at least.

The world is filled with uncertainty, fear, impatience, desperation - not that it is anything new, but it is more palpable than usual.  This pandemic has made a lot of people turn all those things that they are feeling into anger, and outrage.  There are a lot of soapboxes that have been getting a lot of use lately.  Many of the things people are choosing to use as a focus for that anger are things that they really should be angry about, things that should outrage us all.  It will be interesting to see how many people remain committed to those causes if they get any sort of normal back.  Yes, that was only very slightly related to where I started, but this is how my brain meanders through what passes for my thinking process.

So, how do you know when you are hiding and when you are honouring what needs to be done?  Well, the answer will be a little different for everyone I expect.  One of the things that I've come to believe is that you have to take some time and some space for starters.  Take a good look at what you are labelling something as "needs to be done."  Needs to be done for whom?  Needs to be done for why?  Take a moment and look at the word needs - decide if it is an accurate description.

  

Every now and then we need to hide, sometimes it is the right thing to do.  Every now and then, we need to take a deep breath and screw our courage to the sticking place, and get out there and do it anyway.  Every now is an opportunity to step back and take stock, take a good look and make a decision.  If you let others decide for you, no matter how well-intentioned, looking back at every then could be a regret on some level.  You can't do everything, none of us can.  What you can do, is make what you do count, for yourself at the very least. 

Working In Increments

I love being a jack-of-many-trades. I don't say all because there are a lot of things I can't do and don't even try to. It does have its downsides though. One of the things about finding so many things absolutely fascinating is you want to do them all. Ideally you want to do them all well. I love learning about things, and I love getting lost in what I'm doing. Unfortunately almost everything I love to do, or would love to do takes time and practice to build the skills. The more time you put in, the better you get. Regularly practicing and building skills is a rewarding and exciting thing to do.

But when you are interested in practically everything, how do you fit it all in?

I will spend my lifetime trying to find a decent balance between all the things I like to do, and probably never really succeed. That is okay, I'm having a good time along the way, and every baby step in each of the areas leads somewhere. It is frustrating at times, to say the least. There are plenty of times when one of the worst bits is trying to pick the thing you are going to spend time on. Sometimes the weather will help you make the choice, sometimes time and circumstance will help you out (if it is 3am and you need to pick something to practice and everyone else is sound asleep, something loud is probably not your best choice, as one example.) Energy levels and focus can play a factor too. If I'm really physically spent, going out to the forge might not be my best bet. Carving is probably a better choice.

There are times when you realize that there are things you've pushed down the list for too long. Not that they aren't interesting anymore, just that they have been less immediate. And the balance shifts again.

One good example of this that is glaring at me just now is drawing. Drawing – or at least being able to sketch almost coherently – is actually pretty important in most of the things I do. I'm really pretty bad at it, and I know so many incredible visual artists that it takes a lot of muster for me to put pencil to paper. My partner came up with a great solution. (I may have talked about this before.) He realized that one of the things holding me back was that fine line on that glaringly beautiful white expanse of paper. I got intimidated by the page. After a dinner at one of those roadhouse restaurants where they have kraft paper on the table with a cup full of crayons in which we were discussing design ideas and I was doodling with abandon, he came up with a manilla sketchpad and a box of crayons as a gift for me. It worked like a treat for a while. I spent hours doodling in the pad, and came up with a few not-too-shabby design ideas that were rendered in a fairly coherent manner.

For the last long while though, they've been gathering dust by my corner of the couch, abandoned. I realized the other day that it's been so long since I put anything into my shop sketchbook that I wasn't sure where it was. Probably not a good sign. Not that I haven't been making anything, but I certainly haven't made any notes on it or drawn any of the things I've been making. So while I've gotten better at stretching and practicing my fiddle, and made some strides with getting out to the shop I haven't done a lick of carving or sketching for months on end.

I'm beginning to realize, though, that that is okay. Things have their seasons, and as the wheel turns everything gets its time. I'm not abandoning anything, and sometimes, I find that the space of a rest has let the the information I gained in the previous flurry of activity settle into one more notch of understanding in both my brain and my hands. I can't give everything an hour or two a day – there just aren't enough hours in the day, nor do I have anywhere near that much energy. So everything gets its turn, and each skill gets built (sometimes frustratingly) slowly, but it increases nonetheless. Sometimes its about remembering why you are doing it and most especially, not comparing your progress to the skills of others.

Finding "Calendar Identity"

 In going through the things I've written but not published, I'm finding that there are a number of pieces that are out of context now.  This was one of them...and yet, in reading it and reflecting, I think I've learned a lot.  Once again, I'll italicize the post as it was written (in July of 2018!) and then reflect on what I've learned in the new circumstances of the pandemic world.

I sit here 3 weeks in to my Summer At Home in a mild panic. My personal deadline for a business project is looming, and likely to pass yet again, unfinished again. I have yet to MAKE anything this summer. I have a wig job that I am working on – which is great, but means I am trying to fit everything else in my life into about 3 or 4 hours in a day. And I see my pattern. I am still letting it happen. I see my mistakes, but I am torn.

This transition I've been trying to make, these transitions...in part my difficulty is my identity. I was always an army of one, and I was surprisingly, fairly efficient. I could work stupid amounts and accomplish more in an afternoon than should have been realistic (sometimes). But I am getting older and I don't want to do that anymore. And that is certainly part of it. Realizing limitations.

Another part, though, a part that is harder to recognize and reconcile is finding middle ground for my new identity. Particularly in terms of prioritizing my schedule. It is easy when I have “work” - standard work – a theatre contract or a wig job or a demonstration. There is an outside schedule imposed.

My partner is a successfully self-employed blacksmith – has been for a lifetime – pretty much the bulk of his working lifetime. And that means working 6 or 7 days a week – as much on communications and research and background and paperwork as in the shop – usually more. In many ways we have very similar lives – (I too have always worked an average of 6 or 7 days a week, for example), and we each have kept our own lives – largely. We enjoy each other's company and try to spend some time together – often on work projects or work related ones. And this whole partnership thing has been a big learning curve for me, and boy am I still learning.

Here is where I run into trouble with my own business, my own time, my own identity. In my “down” time, the time that is not scheduled by the outside world, when I'm working on making things and my business and making my new life my time is pretty flexible. I have long lists, as we all do, of things I want and or need to get done. The trouble is, in part, that I'm allowing them to be driven by my partner's schedule. Often because it involves cool fun things that I want to do. Like going to Scotland to work on projects. Or going to opening ceremonies for art events that he is involved in. Or doing Iron Smelting or Experimental Archeology projects that may or may not involve travel and/or gatherings at our home studio.

So, I set my schedule by the outside world and by my partner's schedule. Which should not present a problem, but unless I am very conscious of it all the time it gets away from me. I end up fitting everything into the margins, including my business. Hence the lack of progress on my projects. I don't put my business first, (or myself.)

It is hard to take my business out of the margins, because it provides me with no guarantees. It has proven to have far greater expenses than incomes, so far. I work at my jobs in part, to support my business...because I love it. Through my artwork I grow and learn and change and discover. And that is worth the price to me. And maybe it is part of the problem. I wouldn't be the first person to self-sabotage in order to avoid enough success to change the nature of something from joy to drudgery.

I have to learn to change that, though. I have to take this business out of the margins and put it in the content. In the table of contents and the index – or I will never be able to create the life I am striving for.

It should be simple enough, you say. Schedule tasks in hours and stick to the schedule, just as if it were a paying, clock your time job. Easier said than done, but re-identifying the problem it is what I will try. Not 8am-4pm work on business. That won't work. Not for me. But maybe Tuesday 9 -10 write for business. 2- 3 work on grounds. Sunday 11-12 work on photographs. Break it into 1 or 2 hour bites that can be shifted and managed.

The other tool I am using is a time log. A very loose time log – but in order to keep track of what I am really doing, I am making a loose accounting of my day and how the hours are spent. The categories are very broad, but the benefit is that at the end of the day I can see where the time went. Often the day is over and I feel like I accomplished nothing. Yet, I am bone tired. The time log, when I look at it tells me, yes, you actually put in x hours today, and this is how it was broken down. And at the end of a week or a month I can see how much time I actually put in on my business (for example). A little like tracking your expenses in order to make a realistic budget.

So, does this still apply after 15 odd months of being home in a pandemic?  Well, not so much, though I'm not quite sure the take is an entirely unbiased look.  It turns out that after a rest period I have worked on the business steadily.  Given time and space in my brain and a chance to re-energize, I've gotten a lot off of my to-do list.  However, I need to keep in mind the fact that there was virtually no outside schedule to conflict.  There was nothing in my partner's schedule that could distract me.

I haven't made as much new stuff as I think I should have, but I have made pieces.  I have managed to build an e-commerce website, do a lot of product photography, revise and improve my inventory system, build and maintain a Patreon page, write (somewhat) more regular blog posts, do a lot of work on organizing my spaces (and my forge space has been pulled apart entirely re-modelled and re-assembled


!) and making them workable and start "advertising" by creating a much more consistent social media presence.  I've made huge strides in the work I'm doing on the grounds here, spent a lot of time digging and planting and making the space more versatile and abundant.  I've had time both for myself and to spend with my partner (and, of course, the cat.)  I've been given a reminder of what I can do without and given a much more comprehensive picture of what the cost of living and maintaining the business is if I'm just here all the time.  It has given me a clear snapshot of the financial cost as well as the time and energy cost of maintaining multiple careers.

So...what I've learned is that things are possible, and most of the struggle with my "calendar identity" comes from having too many slots to fit into each day.  It is not that I didn't know that this was a big part of the problem, I just thought that there were way more factors playing a much bigger part as well. All this has given me a lot of food for thought, and let me step back and see the forest as well as the trees.   Once again, I am shown that perspective changes everything.

Inspiration vs. Focus

The bulk of this article, clearly, is something I wrote some time ago – as in before the start of the pandemic (reference to “my time at home” being limited.) I've added to it as I've edited it – though I've tried to keep most of the additions after the end of the initial written block (which I've italicized to mark previous vs. new.)

At the forge.  Photo by Travis Sweet.

In typing the words, it occurs to me that the first question that comes to mind is – why is it adversarial? Why can't it be inspiration and focus? Well, sometimes it can. The difficulty comes when it is one pitted against the other – which is so often part of the creative process. You need to have one or the other – usually flip-flopping between the two for some random period of time before they can get together and work in harmony and create that perfect state of creativity and productivity that we all look for.

This just happens to be where I am just now. I have ideas flooding in, and I'm pretty sure they are mostly good ideas – not just for things I want to make, but for shaping my business and my approach to my business as I try to make this a working vehicle. When I woke up this morning I was very excited about many of the aspects of what I am undertaking. I was all fired up. But I was also stiff, and tired and in reality I knew that this one day is the day I have off just now. So I ought to take care of myself, and do some stretching to keep me moving, I ought not try to tackle 25 things but pick one and focus on it as I only had one day available to me here at home, just at the moment.

By the time I had gotten my focus onto the fact that I needed to eat, and then fulfilled that need...all hope was lost. The ability to prioritize the list of things I wanted to tackle had changed to a great need to rest, and to play – there is lots of inspiration but very little focus. So I am letting my mind wander down that track, down the aisle where I understand the need for play in continuing creativity, and this blog entry is my compromise.

Sometimes it is portrayed in film and television, that need for play. You see the office with a bunch of writers or other “idea people” and they look like they are just throwing a ball back and forth while they talk, or some similar such activity. I've seen it working in offices of creatives, sometimes. What looks to outsiders like the staff is being paid to play a game or some other curious activity that makes you wonder what the world is coming to.

Truly, creativity is a bizarre thing. Sometimes it comes from nothingness. From silence and blankness, and appears like the first star of the night sky. Other times it will not come unless you are in the middle of a game of some sort. Sometimes it comes when you are in the midst of a serious scientific or political discussion. It is unpredictable. But when it flees you will try everything to court it, to bring it back.

Perhaps the wisest course is to build in all possible scenarios so that it has every possible opportunity to arrive whenever it desires. Certainly I have found that a mind at play, and a mind allowed rest give that mind the room and the breathing space that creativity finds most inviting. And indulging in such things as play and rest allow room for focus as well, so that we can bring those things into harmony and have them work together, making that glorious moment of being in the zone, being creative and productive and everything flowing smooth and sweet.

Photo by D. Markewitz

Yes, I do think that creativity is something of a living entity, with whims and desires of its own. I choose to anthropomorphize it the same way I do with nature and animals. It is a way to relate to it, to commune with it. Focus is something that is also a living thing, but more sneaky. It doesn't always land where I want it to, but it is something that absorbs me utterly when it truly kicks in. Whether I'm searching out twitchgrass roots in soil or watching metal move beneath my hammer or tying teensy knots into pieces of hair I get utterly lost in what I am involved in, when everything is just right.

In spite of the changed circumstances of the time, and the glorious ability I have to be home quite literally all the time now, this whole topic is no less relevant. There is still very often a lack of communion between creativity and focus – on some levels at least. There are certainly no less demands on my time, though all of them originate here at home, and all of them have a sense of urgency – of time being limited, however much of it there seems to be. My focus often feels like it is split, fractured really, into dozens of pieces, all pulling in different directions. When it gets particularly bad I tend to throw myself into something that will put it into gear (during this part of the year that is often digging and prepping for planting in the yard.) This is both good and bad. Once my focus is engaged in an activity, tearing myself away to try to do anything else can be difficult. I often find myself immersed in thoughts of roots and soil (for example), so much so that I dream of it and wake with the list of the next set of tasks neatly fitting itself together in my head. That can be great, unless you also have other high priority things on the agenda (like say, the components for a sculpture to build, or a proposal to submit, or a website to update or a blog post to write....)

A raised bed surrounded by twitchgrass.  Photo by KPS.

This is all part of the dance of everyday life. I am very aware that is something that we all face in our own circumstances and our own environments. As frustrating as it can all get, it is also what sustains me, what inspires me, what keeps me engaged and involved and in love with my life.

Still Keeping the Faith....Don't Hold Your Breath

 While I wrote this a while ago, and the snow has pretty much melted in the meantime this feels pertinent to the times and the fact that so many people are beginning to stumble and falter.  I had a rough couple of weeks recently, for no particular reason, and while I'm coming out the other side now this feels like I could easily have written it last week....on the upside, outside things are beginning to bloom and the recent snow doesn't seem to have killed off their spirit.

 

It has been a rough week...a rollercoaster. One of those points where I feel like I'm so far behind, ten years behind and trying to catch up?... it is all futile. Wasted effort. I see that I have been given what I've been asking for, been working towards, but it all feels too late. I've wasted it, all those gifts. The economy has changed. The political climate has changed. The world has changed and I missed my opportunities. I can do the things that I want to do, but forget making a living from it. That ship has sailed. And it will still take me 5 or 10 years to get to where I need to be anyway, to make this work. So why bother...

That has been my week. It is still my week. And yet -

Ride it out. Sit with it, don't push it away into a box.

Sit with that feeling of futility, of failure, of hopelessness.

There is a bit of sun out there, go walk in it, even though it is still cold.

Dealing with the inner world of the challenges of running a business – part time or full, of pursuing anything artistic, or creative, or really anything you are passionate about...it is all part and parcel of the reality. It is the part no one ever talks about – though that is beginning to change.

It is the unspoken struggle, the one we don't admit to for fear of …

So here I am, sitting in it, riding it out trying to focus on the sun rather than the snow.

Knowing without believing that it will clear like the snow will melt and the skies will clear. Working hard at holding faith in the memory of the green and the warmth and the growth – inside and out.

Spring Awakening

 

Rhubarb emerging. Photo by KPS.

As spring starts to tease us with hints of its arrival, I'm trying to establish new practices. I'm hoping to have things settled into some kind of flexible format by the time the seasons begin to shift. There is a part of my brain that wants to bow to the phrase “establish a routine”, but the truth is I'm lousy with routines. Routines is where I start to chafe and end up in trouble – that is a huge part of why I've lead the life I have. So I'm playing with phrases until I find the right fit.

I didn't even know, really, what it was I was going for. Productivity? I like productivity, but sometimes it isn't all its cracked up to be. Something that maybe would set me up for the ability to be productive, but wasn't locked down so much. Relaxation? Relaxation is incredibly important, but it definitely doesn't always set me up for productivity. It often sets me up for being a slouch. I knew there was something I wanted to aim for...but the only way I could describe it was “life.” I wanted to establish a format that allowed for life – life beyond work, but not excluding it – particularly since I love my work and I consider it to be a big part of who I am. I guess I just wanted room to be me, whatever that entailed, but without creating some kind of rigidness or expectation.

I knew I wanted to stay off the computer – or at least off the internet and all its functions (like social media) for the first part of the day. Having tried that "computer and email first" routine I found it to be a failure for me. (I know I've already mentioned that.) So what I've come up with is that the first 2 to 3 hours of the day are mine.

Ideally, that means about an hour of stretching in the morning – part of my lack of function usually comes from me being stiff and sore, and usually that means I've become too tight, and too locked. Not good for me mentally, physically or spiritually … it leads me back down the negative roads most of the time, and I've worked pretty hard over the years to make newer and more positive pathways in my brain. Some mornings it only means 15 minutes of any activity, stretching, fiddle practice, reading, meditating, writing...whatever I want – whatever suits the day, sometimes it means a half hour, or an hour of any of these types of things.

My spectacular fiddle.  Photo by KPS.

I'm trying to be a little disciplined here – I've been working at convincing myself that, no, I don't have to do a lot of stretching, but just a little and see where it goes. Sometimes, like the last 3 days where I didn't want to stretch at all, it has lead to an hour or an hour and a half, and I've felt great when I was done. Fiddle practice will take some real work – I'm coming to learning this instrument very late...but it is something I always wanted to do. While I'm doing it for me, it has been a real struggle not to be incredibly conscious of a)anyone else hearing me and b) what they might think of it, of me, of the whole exercise...it has been hard to let go of all the outside world and just be with the fiddle in the moment, whatever that might mean, or bring. I've had a few lessons with someone I know who is a professional, and an amazing player. They aren't local though, and they were very few and far between.  But it got me started - to a place where I knew how to hold everything and how to figure out what the sound I was aiming for was.  When I was travelling all the time it was really hard to fit a few minutes a day in – especially when you are staying at other people's homes. And when I was home, well, let's just say I didn't do a very good job at practicing.   I kept putting it off. With the pandemic, I continued to put it off...until I hadn't picked it up in over a year.

There are lots of stories about this whole thing and how it came to be, but that has very little to do with the business or this blog, other than the fact that I did pick it up again recently. And I've played every day since. I've found the space I needed to make it part of my window of time, and somehow managed to let go of the chatter in my head about “outside”. It is slowly becoming something that is mine, for me alone, and in that space I'm finding what I knew it would hold for me.

Now, I suspect that you are wondering what on earth all of this has to do with the business? With being a small business owner? With being creative?

Well...

Everything.

Caucasian Spinach.  Photo by KPS

Let me explain....first there are some of the technical things. Physically, all this will let me keep doing what I want to do – not just the stretching, which is a bit more obvious. The fiddle is also a huge part of this, as I've come to understand as I attempt to learn to play. The positioning, the dexterity, the precision, the focus...eventually the creativity -
it all takes will be a huge help in keeping me able to have the flexibility and dexterity to do all the other things I want to do. Learning to really read music is opening up new pathways and skillsets in my brain – I learned a bit about music during other periods in my life, but I've never been good at it, and it didn't matter because I only needed to enjoy it. I played instruments in school – badly, and especially because I didn't quite get the ability to read music. I could kinda fake it. I can read music, given time and quiet, but trying to learn to really associate the notes on the page with both sound and positioning is a real challenge. Music does great things for your brain, whether it is listening to it or learning to sing it or play, and I've decided I want to milk that as best I can.

Egyptian Walking Onions.  Photo by KPS.

But mostly, its about the space. Finding this space, creating this space for myself and beginning to hold it and protect it and own it and believe in it...this is also the space in which I am able to create. Whether it is forging, or writing, or tinsmithing, or making wands or ink – this is the space, this is the zone from which I do my very best work. It is an incredibly easy space to lose, to let go of in favour of other “more important” things. So that is the biggest thing. Learning to keep the space flexible and to allow it to be what I need it to be on any given day. Spending more time in the space where I'm not pushing myself to do something, just allowing that space to grow. Hopefully that will make that special creative space easier  to access.                               

Allowing that place to become familiar again, and believing that I have a right to that space. I used to live there a lot, but somehow I let it go more and more often. Keeping myself fed and housed, chasing success and happiness, the needs of others...whatever it was kept creeping in and pushing it further and further from the centre of my world until it became a place where I was actually uncomfortable. It didn't feel familiar or positive or good, it felt strange, and I heaped expectations on it rather than letting it be what it was. Rather than just letting it be.

So, with the rudiments of the website built, a Patreon page to contribute to, and spring teasing me with its invitations, I'm making the time to rebuild my space – in the physical realm as well as in realms that are more elusive. I plan to pee in all the corners and guard my territory, but I don't plan to be exclusive about it. I think everyone could benefit from a space like this, and I really hope that everyone manages to find their own.

Signs of SPRING!  Photo by KPS.

Lost In Process

 

I'm spending a lot of time now looking at changing how I do business – at least the majority of the Elfworks business. I suspect that is true for everyone. No one really has a choice with the pandemic. It is time for a shift, it would seem.

One of the things I realized, or maybe just made more conscious, was how easy it is to stay isolated as an independent artist. I mean that in a number of contexts. Yes, one of them is the pandemic, I suppose. It is really easy to just keep doing what we do and stretch the time between grocery trips here. That has been great. On that front, I'm loving this whole thing – uninterrupted time here to work, barely even allowing the day to day needs to interrupt it. There is a larger picture though. It is one that I've always been aware of, and it has been the subject of many discussions from greater minds than mine, but it had never really sunk in – or maybe the context of the world has just shifted.

Whether you live rurally or in the middle of the city, it is very easy to just do your thing – I expect that applies to all professions, not just independent artists and the self-employed, but...It is very easy to just work away on your project and get lost in the process. That is one of the best parts about the things I do. It is one of the things I love most.

There comes a time though, when you look up and you have all this stuff that you made and you. No demonstrations to show people how cool the thing you do is. No one to see the stuff and share in its successes or failures. No way to get it outside the boundaries of your cloud of creativity. Just you, your process and your stuff. Depending on what it is you do, eventually there isn't much room for you and your creativity because, well, there is stuff everywhere.

For decades now the internet has been a way of opening that up. People have gotten really good at taking advantage of it, and people who are my age and younger in particular live there quite comfortably. For me, it is a big step and an even bigger learning curve. I've always gotten to choose my venues and my exposures. I've been a reluctant participant on the web, as shown by my spotty record. I've always tried to craft the small presence I put there with some care. It has never been a comfy space for me though.

The internet is an area where I have no expertise, and a field that changes constantly. Generally the funds I have to try to throw at the problem are incredibly limited, and I can't afford the expertise that could help me. The time I can squeak out to learn how to do what I really need is precious – and what I spend on learning about programs I have to give up in making time and admin time. I have been lucky to have some gurus in my circle of friends who have been instrumental in helping me with what I have managed to get into place. (Honestly, in most cases they just did the work when and as they could fit it into their own lives. It was much simpler than them showing me something that I was neither adept at nor interested in.) These gurus also have managed to convey a sense of who I am and how I wanted to represent Elfworks in a way that the D.I.Y. Programs that have been flooding the internet have never done for me.

All this has allowed me to stay safe in my space, and just muddle about making and researching and doing. But the world is shifting...and so am I.

As I examine how to keep my balance as the ground moves, I realize that I should see this as an opportunity. Not as an opportunity to become more adept at digital work, though, I suppose that will be an inevitable part of the result. It has occurred to me that maybe I don't have to start splashing every avenue with a flood of platitudes and soul-less publicity attempts. It has taken me a long time to recognize that I don't have to use the empty shirt version of becoming a presence on the web. I can use this as an opportunity to open up my process and let people into my sphere of work through the window of the internet.

I can still work to craft what I put out for their gaze...(I will have to!) I haven't been very effective at regularity with this blog, though I'm much improved from all historic attempts. It isn't that I don't write much...I have well over a dozen pieces that I just never had the time to publish – (re-craft, edit and put in some photos where applicable) and plenty of other writing to boot. Many of those pieces gave a snapshot in time and I'm not sure I can rework them with any sense. The biggest blocks have been a combination of uncertainty and a reluctance to be more public in my process. I'm coming to terms with that...beginning to believe that there is a way to make my process more inclusive, and that maybe that is something of value. Hopefully it is something of value for both myself and some kind of audience.

So I'm finding ways to make this feel like something that I'm comfortable with, things that I can offer that I believe in and trust that they are worth sharing. Stumbling through my first attempts at instagram and trying to find a comfortable place there...working at sharing more of my thoughts and my progress on facebook, trying to be more forthcoming here. It is hard to stop mid-process and remember to take photographs of stages of production, but it is valuable too...not just for opening up the process but for my own critique (and my own memory!) Writing more is something that benefits me, and I need to choose to share what I hope to be the better pieces with more frequency...here, and on the Patreon page I'm publishing, at a minimum.

The pandemic has forced me to re-examine my process in isolation. I realize that as much as it is a fun place to be lost, it might just be even more rewarding if I extend an invitation to the outside world so we can share the process.

Thinking Digital

 

Craw Stane located in Rhynie, Aberdeenshire, Scotland.  Photo by KPS 2016.

A few years ago, my guru friend made an excellent suggestion to me – he was speaking about dealing with photos to be added to things like my blog. “Don't think about them as physical sizes” he said. “Think in pixels.”

I knew that he was right. But it's something I've never been able to do. I work with my hands. I am sort of capable of abstract thought. If you are talking spiritual things I'm good with it. But when you get into physics, quantum, digital...the things that are both physical and abstract? I'm afraid I'm lost.

It's all a portion of what has kept me from delving any further into the digital. It makes me uncomfortable. I don't quite understand it. It's like the phrase in the They Might Be Giants song: “And I've often been told that you only can do
What you know how to do well
And that's be you,
Be what you're like,
Be like yourself,
And so I'm having a wonderful time
But I'd rather be whistling in the dark “

Whistling in the dark is a pretty good description of how I feel about my forays into the digital world. I'm having a wonderful time...I actually am – I liked the feel of progress on the projects. I liked learning what I did. It felt like I was doing something, really making an effort. But I still can't say I actually understand it.

I've learned that the way around thinking in pixels is to find out what each site's suggested parameters are. Both in pixels and in aspect ratios. Then, just follow them to the best of your ability. It meant looking things up, making cheat sheets, learning how to use a program better, It meant finally realizing that I had to make a system for cataloguing images, both raw and manipulated. Creating files, rules for titles, lists of where things got stored. It made me realize that some photos, no matter how “good” they might be, just won't fit, they are not useful for certain applications and need to be retaken.

It has also meant learning how to break up work cycles. Digital is not something I can – or should – throw myself into the way I've done with other things. No working for 10 hours at a stretch because you are in the flow. I've still got a lot to lean on that front, but the cheat sheets and lists have helped. Strangely, for me, thinking digital has meant pages of notes and handwritten lists and lots of new files – both physical and digital. For me, everything digital seems to be a workaround, precisely because I don't really understand it.

It has done a lot of good. It has forced me to make headway, take stock of what I have and how I have it organized. It has made me think about better ways for things – from doing to storing. It has made me realize I need to go through the images I have and catalogue them (including my 3 trips to Europe...that feels like a lifetime project.) It has taught me to take better photographs. I have learned much more about how to manipulate them, though I still only do the barest bit of what is possible.

Above all, it has made me face the unknown and the uncertain. It has made me poke at things that make me uncomfortable, figure out how to handle them at least a little. It has made me more aware of the vast swaths of things I don't know about...and forced me to really admit to myself that I don't have to understand them fully, but I shouldn't pretend I can ignore them. (I tend to be a bit of an all or nothing girl.) It has increased my respect for those who work well in the fields, and actually do understand all this stuff. I can't say I understand them, but I respect them for doing the work I can't and don't like to do.

So, while I am much happier holding a hammer, a pair of pliers or a shovel than a mouse (not the live squeaky kind, those I'm fine with,) I guess I have to thank this journey for all it has given me. It may not be my proverbial cup of tea, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't put the kettle on.

Digital Ventures - Patreon and E-Commerce

 Here we are in January (well, February now...it was January when I wrote this.)– a whole new year, filled with potential, possiblity, and yes, still haunted by the pandemic. While I'm not happy about the pandemic, and the multitude of challenges it presents to everyone, I am grateful for having gotten the last ten months (and probably the next ten to twelve) to be here, at home. The time at home has allowed me to really begin to dig my toes into the dirt here, and start to delve into work I really want to do. It has helped me to have enough space and quiet in my brain to be able to form both a picture, and a plan. 

A booth I shared with Darrell at the International Medieval Congress in Kalamazoo a few years back.  Not something I'll be able to do again for quite a long time....Photo by Darrell Markewitz.

 

If I truly want to start to shift the balance of my working life from 85% theatre/15% Elfworks (that's at a rough guess – I haven't done any math on that.) then I also have to begin to shift my income possibilities. That has always been clear to me. How to make it happen is the mystery. It still is, but having had some time to consider, I'm exploring possibilities. I don't expect it will happen quickly, if it ever does, but I'm slowly coming around – and finding that I have the time – to give it a genuine effort. With time, I'd like to shift it to at least 50/50, maybe even further with theatre taking up only say 25% as an eventual goal. The truth is that as much as I love the theatre, the split life is beginning to wear me out...it takes a lot of energy to live in 2 places – especially when you don't really have a home base in the one it feels like you spend more than half your time in.

So, how does one go about making that shift – especially in the midst of a global pandemic? The answer in part, of course, is to expand your digital footprint and hope it successfully generates some income. This, of course, is not as easy as it sounds. Nor are there any guarantees – the internet is a huge open marketplace, and it means competing with the whole world. It also takes a dedicated amount of time and effort just to get it going, never mind maintaining it, monitoring it, adjusting it... Then of course there is simple fact that almost everyone else is trying to do the same thing, as a way to supplement, generate or replace their income. To put a topping on this particular cake – I'm not good at it. I know the bare minimums of what I need to know to do any given thing digitally. And computers often don't like me, as I'm sure I've mentioned.

The digital world can be a big, scary place. The ground shifts underfoot constantly. The learning curves come fast and often. It is wide open to all kinds of people, and the potential for all kinds of unknowns – both good and bad. While it is easy to get lost, there is really no place to hide...and while I'm fine with having a public face, I treasure my privacy.

I've resisted wading into the digital pool too deeply for any number of reasons, but it is time. I've had an Etsy site for a while, but that, too, is a very busy playground.  (Etsy Shop Link) So, I've been building. I'm writing more for this blog, and actually remembering to post what I write with greater regularity. I'm trying to use facebook more (Facebook Page Link)– actually post on a more regular basis. I've started an Instagram account (Instagram Link) – which as a side bonus will force me to do more photographic documentation than I normally do. Not to mention I will actually have to take a critical look at and process those photos, and file them in some sort of orderly fashion. That has to be a good thing, right?

As I do that I will work to beef up my Etsy site and get some new product on there. I am not planning to duplicate the product on the Etsy site onto the  e-commerce site - different pieces will stock each site. 

So that is a beginning. Thanks to a program being offered by the Ontario government just now, I'm also working on an e-commerce site all my own. (For information on the Digital Main Street/ShopHere program, go here: https://programs.digitalmainstreet.ca/)  I'm hoping that the new site will be live by mid-February.

Along with that I've decided to create a Patreon page. Now, Patreon is something that was brought to my attention years ago, by several people. I looked at it when I was made aware of it. I thought it was a great idea – for other people. I could see how it could work really well for creators of digital content, “visual artists” (painters etc.), writers, all sorts of people. I couldn't see how I could possibly fit there. That, and I didn't think there was any reason why people should want to become a patron for me. Not that I think what I do doesn't have value, more that I had trouble with the idea of making that pan out in some sort of physical (monetary) form other than buying a product.

In the years since, it has sat in the back of my mind, being turned over on occasion, re-examined and then ultimately re-buried.

I was searching for something on the web about 8 months ago, and I followed a sideline to the site of an author/editor that I admire. https://www.terriwindling.com/

There, on the side of Terri Windling's page, was a little statement about her Patreon page and her reasoning for it – I clicked on the link to allow me to read what she had written. Suddenly, it began to come into some kind of focus that I could fit - somehow. It would just take some thought. You can read the writing that inspired me here:

https://www.terriwindling.com/blog/2017/11/patreon-launch.html

Reading what she had written brought a lump to my throat. Terri Windling shy about a Patreon page? It all struck a chord, and somehow, gave me the push I needed to see if I could make it work. Thinking about it now, it seems rather backwards. I'm not putting myself in the same league as this person I admire, not by a long shot, but whatever the reason, reading that explanation opened a pathway for me. Over the last number of months I've toyed with the idea, formulating and rejecting things I thought might be feasible for the venue. How could I do this and actually offer content that I thought was worth contributions from persons unknown? If I chose to use product, how could I structure it to be sure that I would cover shipping costs, not having any clue what they might be? How would I make the numbers work to be sure that I wasn't adding more work to my plate, but ending up with an unequal monetary exchange? How could I do all this and still make it affordable, and not feel like I was asking people to give me something for nothing? Was there a way for me to not set myself up for failure – make it enticing but not promise the moon and fail to deliver?

It wasn't until November or December that I came up with a plan that I could be comfortable with. As I worked, I found myself getting excited. I had started from a standpoint of “how on earth can I create enough regularly scheduled content to make this work?” I realized that this could be a huge opportunity for me.

While I have been getting better about posting on this blog, it has taken me time to get more convinced that I have something to say. I've always loved writing, and in the last while I've gotten back to doing more of it. I had never stopped, but the frequency had fallen off, and it all became more and more private – and I became more tentative about it. As I've begun to write more, a lot more, I've remembered how much I love it.

Another thing I won't be able to do anytime soon is my theatre work.  My dear departed friend Georges Molnar pictured as "The Bear".  Photographer unknown.

 

I realized that Patreon could be a place for all the writing that doesn't fit here, and more. It could be my motivation to really dig into the research that I want to do but there seems to be no reason for. All those alleys that I travel from idea to product, all the threads that wend off into their own rabbit hole worlds could be collected and developed and have a home.

The more I thought about it, and the more I started to really work on the writing I was doing for my “About” page for Patreon, the more excited I got. Whether or not it ever helps me to make a living, it is a place to explore all the avenues I've neglected. As much as I enjoy pursuing knowledge for its own sake, there is a limit to how much I can motivate myself to gather it all together from cryptic notes on slips of paper into cohesive presentations when I don't have a venue for them.

When I restarted this blog, I chose to take it down a different pathway, and yes, I can put some of that here – and I will, as I continue to write more. What Patreon has given me is a vision – not one of monetary gain so much as a home for my voice that is both public and private. This blog will be here for me to keep voicing my thoughts as they pertain to the evolution of Elfworks in both an inner and outer nature. If anyone wants more, there will be other places for them to go that are still Elfworks Studios, and if anyone chooses to help Elfworks Studios evolve with a financial contribution, Patreon gives them a place to do that.Patreon Link

Shifting Patterns

It is now winter and I need to settle down to work – to really work on the business – the making of stuff, the promotion of stuff, hopefully even the selling of stuff. Once again, this means looking at how I do things and what will get me motivated.

Winter sets in at Wareham for another year

I've been doing lots of little bits of tidying up – clearing little annoyances off the lists to help clear a path for me to have less that can potentially “call me away” from the tasks before me. Once again, I'm studying my spaces – particularly my desk, to try to figure out what will work for me. I already know that I need to like a space to want to work there. A good space helps draw me to it, gives me an anticipation and excitement, inspires me. That doesn't mean it has to be beautiful or perfect – but it has to have an inviting energy...I guess that's the best way for me to describe it. It has to be comfortable or I will spend my time being distracted by all the things that serve as an irritation in the space.

I need too, to find my groove. I've been trying different patterns of the day to see what fits. For a while I was working on the pattern my partner uses – practical in many ways, particularly in the wintertime when it is colder. It seemed a good fit, since I have a more nocturnal habit and I prefer my waking to be a more relaxed affair.  Get up, make tea, go to the computer and start there – doing email, communications, writing and all that. Then move on to the other work – the making and doing late morning or after lunch, depending on how much time the computer work took.

I've been trying to make that pattern work for quite a while now, because it is good logically. I'm finally admitting that it does not work for me. I get onto the computer and I get lost. I lose my drive, I lose my creativity, I lose my will. I find it draining.

The computer is something that I find useful, but I've never become enamoured with digital tools. When I am brutally honest, I kind of hate most computer work. It is okay for writing, and some of the stuff can be interesting for a short while. Figuring out how a program works and what it can do for you, the ability to do print work and manipulate photographs for use can be interesting. It doesn't hold me though, and it carries as much frustration as it does interest. There is too much relying on something I only vaguely understand for me. And it is constantly changing, not just the how but the rules and the speed and the capacity. There is too much time wasted on things that are "necessary evils,"(no offense meant to all the computer oriented people out there.

I've also done enough time working in offices where the computer was where I was stuck all day (or all night) that it has always represented work for me, and not my favourite work by any means. I know just enough about them that certain things are very easy for me, and I type well enough that they are an incredibly useful tool. I know just little enough about them that I find them frustrating and often arbitrary, temperamental and sometimes vindictive toward me. They have been known to inexplicably cut me off from what feels like lifetimes of work with no recourse. I can see the file, but I can't open the file – or some such madness. The computer and I are not best friends.

My desk is nice and close to the stove.

I still like handwriting things, stories, poems, letters. I type faster than I write, but I like the feel of writing. When I read, I take notes by hand – the act of writing the notes out helps me to cement the knowledge in my brain. I have noticed that the more time I spend on a computer the less I am able to remember things I know that I know. And I can tell that the increased screen time is beginning to mess with my eyes – and as a wigmaker particularly, my eyesight is something that is very dear to me.

So I am trying new patterns. Read first thing in the morning – whether for work or pleasure. Come to the computer at lunchtime or thereabouts....and limit it to lunchtime, then another quick shot at the end of the day just before dinner. Take days off, entirely, from it...something I used to do with regularity and do rarely in recent months. Ideally I will start with a walk in the morning – or most mornings. Or stretching at least – something active rather than sedentary. The computer may get relegated entirely to just before dinner, at least some days. I know there will be days, if I am to manage to survive, that will have to be all computer – the digital world will demand it. But I can hope that they will be strategic, rather than habit.

There will be lots of patterns tried and tossed, I'm sure, before I find the one that works here, in this space and time. I am just glad that I've stopped following blindly based on habit and trying to convince myself that I can make something so unsuited to me work.  With every step, I learn - (or I hope I do.)  There is lots of winter left.  Come spring, patterns will shift again.

Observing from the Sidelines

The earlier version of my forge space here at Wareham.  Photo by KPS

 

Some days are infinitely frustrating. I think I am just beginning to get down to it, starting to be able to dig in and do what I am “supposed” to be doing...and sproing! Suddenly I'm hijacked. My attention, my emotion, my focus shattered – the intercom of life buzzes and prompts me to drop what I'm doing and change direction immediately.

At the heart of it, the problem is not the inevitable sproing! The problem is my willingness to be hijacked. My belief that what I'm doing is not as important as whatever the interruption is. My lack of faith in the fact that this work deserves my undivided attention and is vital to me. It is the idea that giving focus and time to the creation is an aside, meant to be done on stolen time.

This is nothing new, and nothing I haven't addressed before. Everyone who runs a small business, or creates art, or works from home (a lot more of us in these days of pandemic) or is self-employed or.... Let's just say that many people face their own version of this countless times a day, every day. The circumstances will change, but the core problem is the same.

Perhaps, though, if each time we face it we choose to recognize it for what it is, if we choose to mark it rather than letting it sneak by, we will begin to change the pattern. The sooner we see it for what it is, the more likely we are to be able to say, “no, that is something I can deal with later” and shift our focus back to where we were and what we were doing.

Somehow, a guaranteed paycheque allows us to do this when we are “at work”...at least it does for me. So perhaps part of the problem is the value I place on the financial reward vs. the more intangible rewards. Not surprisingly it seems that once again, it is a problem of perception.