Practice, in practice

One of my greatest challenges is practice.

There is so much I want to do. So many ideas I want to explore. So many inspirations I want to capture. But quite often my ideas are most ripe when I am not in a position to act on them. Then I get the time to go to my studio and I can't capture it – or sometimes I can't even remember it in spite of the notes and the scribble drawings. I can't remember quite what the “how” was.

And then there is the frustration of lack of practice. I know what I want to make, but my skills are not quite there yet. I can make a thing, but it doesn't come out right. I haven't quite got it. Simple, right? Try again. Practice.

This can be more challenging to follow through on – you look at the product of your efforts and can't see your way to the thing that was in your head. It is discouraging. You lose faith that the thing that is in your head can ever come out of your hands. It is hard not to see the materials as wasted. Hard not to see the time spent as fruitless.

This has always been a challenge...there is nothing new here. It is something we all have to face, and if we want to succeed we have to choose to overcome.

The way I work often makes it particularly challenging – I don't generally do layout drawings or plans, or step-by-step outlines. Probably I should. And sometimes it is something I don't do consciously, but I certainly do. For example, if I am making something more mundane, like tent pegs I know my order of operations. I had to learn it, but having that information leads to greater success in such items. The first time, when I'm figuring it out I will usually write it down – make notes. Often, half way through the process I'll realize that it would have been easier if I'd done C before I did A. So, I make the note, so that I remember next time.

But what about the more artistic things? When I'm at the forge I often just have an idea of the thing I want to make, and start to work. Particularly if it is something like a mask or a pendant I have a thought about proportions and then I just follow the metal where it leads me. But unconsciously I've developed something of an order of operations for that. If I'm trying for a different effect I may try switching it up to see where the new perspective will take me. All of that came through practice. Through doing it.

I may not have been very pleased with my first result, but I learned from it – both my brain and my hands learned. It is crucial to remember that. And remembering that is hard. Giving that the credence it deserves is even harder.

One of the best ways I've found to remind myself is in drawing. I am by no means good at making drawings. My attempts at technical drawing are even worse than my attempts at artistic rendering. However, there are some things that I have to draw first. If I am doing a pewter pattern I have to sketch it first. If I can't draw it, I can't carve it. That is how I see it....that isn't something that would hold true for everyone. If I can draw it, then I can carve it (at least most of the time. I've had more than a few failures.) I also have to be able to draw it to the approximate scale I need it to be – and that has shelved more than one project!

For a lot of things it is still 1 in 10 – out of 10 attempts there is 1 that is reasonable. I have improved with some things – there are some things that I might get 1 for every 3. What is nice is seeing the progress – flipping through a sketchbook and seeing where the successful bits are – seeing how much better some sketches get.

There are still a lot of things – like my current work on a sketch for a pewter – where I will make 20 or 30 renderings and not one of them is right. There will be elements of this one or that one that are not bad, but trying to pull those elements and make them work in another sketch, and getting the rest of the elements correct...well, those are the times where you have to have a real passion, or a real reason to keep going.

The thing that is harder (for me) is doing that with the ones that take a lot more materials, time and energy than the sketches. It's not giving up and writing myself off, but trying it again. And again, and again. With the more mundane stuff, it isn't so hard. With the more creative stuff it can be hard not to lose sight of that original inspiration. Looking at what you made can make it hard to see what that original thing in your head actually looked like. And the more time between attempts, the harder it can be to see.

So one of the big things on the calendar for this year for me is the practice of practice. Doing the work in spite of not being able to see the forest for the trees anymore. Learning how to step back and close my eyes before I try for another look, another view, another perspective. And more practice.

Small Victories

So the need to get back to posting a little more regularly has been nagging at me this week. Yes, sometimes I should just do short posts – maybe this will be one of them (but don't hold your breath.) I woke up this morning and thought that I should get off my duff today and post something. So I went through what I have in the can, and although I am pleased with it, nothing struck me as quite right for today.

The answer then becomes, “so write something.” But what? Well, here I am. As I thought about what I had to say, what I've been up to....and it was “not enough.” So I thought I'd talk about remembering that even the small victories count. And they add up.

I've been blessed with an unexpected summer at home. And I thought I'd have so much more done (always the way). But I completed 3 courses for an unrelated interest early in the summer, and that ate up a bunch of time, and that is a victory. And I have been working, albeit piecemeal, on a number of projects that have needed getting to. And I've been working on the garden – which is a long term project here that does, in fact relate to the business.

So, beginning to make the pattern pieces from the ones I was fortunate enough to get from a generous tinsmith is a small victory. Layout of some of the pieces for the Museum of Dufferin show I will be participating in for Christmas is a small victory. Getting more of the garden layout and planting done is a (medium sized?) small victory. And allowing myself the rest I needed to feel like I could start to tackle things again is actually a pretty big victory.

It is hard – particularly when you are self employed and an artist in any sense – to look back on what you did that day and see any kind of accomplishment. Oh, if you finish a painting, or complete an order, or do a bunch of production of castings, maybe not so much. Those are the easier days. But when you are figuring out a pattern or doing trial and error of how to construct a piece, carving, or laying down a wash and just the initial ideas...not so much. No one is setting or keeping track of the schedule but us. It can be hard at the end of the day to remember what it is you did.

Last summer I started to write it all down in a notebook. 3 hours here, 2 hours on that, half hour lunch...so that at the end of the day I could see that yes, I'd spent hours photographing pieces, or working on building the inventory program. It helped immensely. This year I've let that slide, but I'm thinking I should pick it up again. It really helps to keep track of the small steps that lead to completion. It reminds us that we did do the work, that the work is leading to something.

When you can keep track of the small victories, and remember where they are going, it really helps you to get to the finish line on any project. I have about another month before my time starts to get divided – maybe a little less. I have a lot of goals on the list that I haven't even started working toward. Perhaps my biggest goal should be reinforcing the pattern of work – when there isn't a deadline I try to do a little on this, switch tasks (unless I'm engrossed), a little on that. Slow bites of progress that cover a lot of ground and keep me from getting bored or overwhelmed.

Sometimes it is enough just to do the work – any work – as it gets you moving in the right direction, gives those creative juices a direction to flow in. Sometimes it is enough just to light the forge, pick up the hammer, or prep the paper and pick up the pen, or the brush. If we think of that act as a small victory we can see we are one step closer to the goal.

Discipline

So, a big part of why I really failed at this blog before was discipline. Oh, it was disguised cleverly as not having anything to say – or not feeling like I had anything worth saying. It was wrapped up in too many jobs, too little time. But one of the things it came down to was discipline.

I posted my first blog entry of the new blog and had a friend, a person who I respect immensely, a person I think of as incredibly disciplined, say that he doesn't have the discipline to write a blog.

Now the thing about this particular friend is he is an artist, on so many levels I can't count. And to do what he has done through the years, I know that he is incredibly disciplined. Maybe just in his own way – but there is no way he could have done the things he has without discipline. Passion too, yes, passion gets us around some of the discipline problem. Makes it vital and entertaining for a while – but it rarely lasts the whole of the(insert noun here – book, article, show, painting, construction, piece, project...whatever your medium). It would be nice to think we were all so passionate about what we do and that passion would carry us through, but let's face it...it rarely carries you through – at some point you find yourself wishing this bloody thing could just be done. Frustration is a huge component of passion from my experience

His comment struck me on many levels. Discipline is NOT one of my strong points – unless it is for the short term. I am good at putting my head down and working, I am good at pushing through until something is done – a project, a show, a piece...but true discipline? Hell, I can't even manage to do the same job for more than a few days at a time.

And really, isn't that one of those things I have to master in order to make my business work? Isn't that half of the difficulty – or 90% of the difficulty, maybe, in running my business? Isn't that the real, main, grand reason that the chandelier failed so spectacularly?

Everything takes discipline. Many of us cheat – you take a job and you create discipline by having to conform to the schedule set by the company. Imposed discipline. That is the kind of discipline that we are taught in school. You go to school, you go to your classes, you do your homework. That is the beginning of it. An outside framework, structured by someone else that is imposed on your personal time framework. Some of us do better with it than others. Some people are good at doing their homework. Some people cut a lot of classes....I generally enjoyed school – I like learning – so other than the mornings it was an easy framework for me. I am very curious about a lot of things – hence the very schizophrenic array of jobs – sometimes in a single day – that has made up my life...so that was an easy discipline for me.

But in self-employment we have to fill all those work hours – and generally a lot more than the “average” 8 hour day, 5 day week's worth if we want to actually manage to get done what multiple people in other organizations manage – all on our own.

And working from home – even from a home studio or office...well, when you are stuck there are the dishes. Or the laundry. Yes, you can do them on your coffee break, you can do them while you are working on other things... but to have the discipline to stop there and get back to your job...not to get preoccupied by the errand someone asked you to run, reading that article, cleaning the bathroom...

So – while I have come up with a bit of a way to cheat on this blog...discipline, huh?

There are blogs that I try to read occasionally...trying to figure out how to subscribe to them or get them sent to me or remember to look to see if there is something new up – all pretty new to me. Takes some discipline just to read them, never mind write them.

But we all have to start somewhere...so maybe this is part of my fresh start. Gaining the discipline to do this, maybe, just maybe I can be more disciplined about, oh, I don't know...working...making what I hope is art...making the life I want to live.

Swapping Hats

Photo by KPS

The other day I was having a conversation with a colleague. She asked about the piece I was wearing. It was a stonewrap – one of the little hoard I have of pieces that are “mine” and I won't sell. We talked about stones, and I told her what I could think of off the top of my head. It got me to thinking about how often I am “on the spot” about things and what my brain holds and what it buries.

One of the problems with wearing so many hats is keeping information to hand. While I have studied most of the aspects of what I do in some relative amount of depth, keeping all that information to hand on the top of my head fails me. When I am working with something, the information tends to filter to the surface if I am immersed in it for a while. But when I am focused on a different aspect of what I do it goes deep into the filing cabinets of my brain and trying to recover it is often a futile exercise.

This is true for many of the things I do.

Photo by Darrell Markewitz

When I am working with my partner on an iron smelt, the processes that take place as I understand them are generally something I can describe reasonably well. When I've been smithing for several days all that stored knowledge starts to be in the forefront of my brain because that is where it is focused. When I am working with stones and immersed in their energy I remember their geology and their properties and their unique characteristics with more clarity. When I am building a wig I remember how it all goes together and the order of operations, and how I like to finish the edges. When I am doing paperwork and bookkeeping I know how to figure out the bits that go together for the reports and how to create the necessary picture. When I am processing photographs I remember the order of what I do to make the photos consistent and try to make them as good as I can for my needs.

But then, doing a craft show and remembering how my square reader works on top of setting up and trying to be informative about my products? Or asking me about any of those things while I am running my track at the theatre and you will often get a blank look, or a jumbled semi-coherent explanation with a lot of ummms and ahhhs and apologies for not being able to call up that piece of information with any clarity. And I will probably spend half of the rest of the day (or night) feeling like a fraud and berating myself for not keeping up with my studies and questioning whether I really know what I'm doing at all.

And it seems I never stop adding to the list. I am certainly a victim of “shiny” syndrome when it comes to learning. I love learning new skills, finding new ways to put things together. And there is so much knowledge that is important to me. Along with everything else I'm doing (or supposed to be doing) right now – you know, focusing on making, building the business, revamping my booth, rebuilding my tin demo box, prepping for demonstrations, applying to shows, working on the permaculture garden and (ha, ha) relaxing, I am immersed in 3 college courses and trying to get in some fiddle practice and learn some music theory. Now, don't get me wrong...I wouldn't change it (clearly, since I don't). But there are many days I ask myself what on earth is wrong with me. Many days. Especially the days when I feel like I'm locked out of that filing cabinet of information.

Photo by KPS

The trouble is, for me it is all important. Every piece of that information from the geology to the history to the attributes of a god to how to tie a knot in a piece of hair, how to do a smooth eyeline on a performer, how to process a photograph or enter something into my inventory – how and where to hit, what is going on in that iron furnace, what is the history of that artifact, what was this street called in 1812 York....every one of those pieces of information has been gathered because it is important to me. Like all of us, I'm aging and my brain doesn't bounce as well from one topic to another as it used to. The smart thing to do would be to narrow my focus – at least for certain periods. But the way life likes to work of course, there are always things colliding in time – working an historic demonstration in the middle of a theatre contract and a bookkeeping job, say. And then, in spite of having prepared for the demo, try calling to hand that obscure bit of information about tin in that period. Hah!

Luckily for me, it is mostly the between times and those bits of information that go missing that are the frustrating bits. Truth is, I do manage to narrow my focus while I'm doing something most of the time.

Photo by unknown.  Maybe Beth Bidwell?

I get utterly immersed most of the time in what it is I am doing, or studying, or reading. The trouble starts when I come up for air, or to switch tasks. Trying to shake my brain free of what I was just doing in order to be able to dive into the next thing or even hold a conversation– that's the difficulty.

I'm going to work on a bit of a theory this summer...most of the time I try to switch tasks pretty much on a dime....most of the time I have to. This summer I'm going to work on either some breathing space or something neutral between tasks. I think that might be what I used to do to make it work better. So I'm going to give it a go and see if letting my hair down between switching tasks helps me keep the information cabinet unlocked. Between tasks do the dishes, feed the fish, go for a walk. They don't need to be long breaks, just breaks to let my brain sort through the last threads of what I was just doing and be ready to be engaged in something new...because there are always a few threads that are left dangling, enticing me to dive back in.

Moving Shop

Well, This is something that I thought it was important to put in, but it is certainly late in being written. And yet, it still applies. Perhaps that is why it is so important.

I moved my shop 4 years ago now – closer to 5 at this point. And my shop spaces are still in chaos.

There are certainly a multitude of reasons for this – but the longer it goes on the worse it gets.

My thought was “I'm moving to a bigger space, it will be easy to get it all organized and then I can have a great space and be more efficient.”

Great theory.

Moving a forge space is never an easy task. The weight of the tools involved, and their bulk makes it draining and awkward at best, even when it is exciting. Moving a household is also never an easy task. Now tack on a wig studio, make-up supplies, a jewellery studio and a tin shop.

And immediately after the move, go abroad for 6 weeks and on return straight into a theatre contract.

Now, I know, this sounds like whining. And maybe it is, a bit...not that there is anything at all to whine about – all those events are pretty great.

 But one of the things I want to do here is think about, speculate about, talk about the reasons for the chaotic spaces with the hope of understanding more about my motives (or lack thereof). All in the hopes of making things better.

Let's start with some of the more obvious bits.

A chaotic space can be indicative of inner chaos. Well...that says about all it needs to say, and certainly it is true. Interestingly, I started to write this piece nearly a year ago, and things have been improving in some of my spaces. In part, at least, because I have slowly been able to begin to formulate an idea of what my new life might look like...what I might be able to create now that I am beginning to see what is really happening with my time and my space. Beginning being a very important word. Nearly 5 years in and I'm only beginning to see the patterns and possibilities.

It has also taken this long for me to get a feel for what I want things to be. I had some very lofty ideas, I'm sure, when I was dreaming about all this. Fitting the elements of the imagined life that still work for me into the life I am trying to create is a huge and daunting process, especially since that needs to have some basis in the reality of how this all really works.

There are things I had thought I wanted that are, looking back, unrealistic and ridiculous. They aren't even things I want – they are things I thought I might want, but they didn't hold up to scrutiny. There are things that are now in my line of vision that I hadn't even been able to imagine before. Life is active, not static. Change is something we can count on, and should look forward to – even the hard changes – the ones that feel awful are often the most valuable ones.

Now that I am beginning to get a better idea of things I can start to commit to the ideas. That is another reason for the chaos – lack of commitment to a space, a practice, an idea...Some of that lack of commitment came from a fundamental lack of belief in what was possible. What was deserved, what was allowed – pick your baggage. It all boils down to the same thing. We can't commit to something we don't believe in – not in any way that counts. I wasn't willing to commit the time to the spaces to make things work well...yes, that's right. Self sabotage.

Having the time to use the space and see how it will really function is also in there. How much space do you dedicate to each of the fundamental bits? You can't know that without understanding how you work in a space. Knowing how you work period is a big part of that, but how that translates into any given space is a whole other dimension. Particularly when the space has (or has to have) multiple uses. And so, you have to make the time to work in the space to see how you work in the space and – you see where I'm going here, don't you? This too is getting better.

With time, almost all things are possible. And the only way to get the time is really to make the time. I manage to make time for all the things that I have to – I've always managed that. I can make time for the outside world, but not for myself. So that is another thing that I am working toward changing. But that, too, is a delicate balance.

Once upon a time I'd make time by staying up most of the night to work a job. Or by never taking time off – working (once) an insane stretch of days (something like 45 I think) 18 to 20 hour days with not a day off – each containing multiple jobs (usually about 3 or 4). Guess what? I'm not doing those things. Ever again. I couldn't if I wanted to. True, I was a lot younger then, and a lot more stupid. Oh, and just so you know? I don't recommend it. It was dumb, and stunts like that broke me in more ways than one. I did it because I didn't see any other way. There is always something that you miss if only you look, with an open mind, and ask the right questions.

So now, I need to find other ways to make time. And I am working on new disciplines. One of them is making sure I don't go back to that path where I make crazy stupid choices out of sheer habit. Making sure that what I'm making time for is the things that are important to me, to my new life. I still put too much into the schedule, but I am working on recognizing the price and how to defer the cost – better juggling the time I have to fit in a little of everything...or so I hope.

Having supportive, patient people around you – taking the time to be with them, listen to their perspective and just be in that positive space and out of your own head, that helps immensely. And don't kid yourself – that is important, hugely so. Whether it is taking time to walk through a local garden space and get out of your own head, or giving yourself the time to go to dinner or for a coffee with friends and connect with someone else...that is all a part of it. It lets you step back and get a little perspective on where you are and where you are going. Can't see the forest for the trees is a real thing, and however you manage to step back, it will stop you walking in circles through the woods.

It seems like this has little to do with moving shop, but to me,  it has everything to do with it. Moving shop isn't just about the physical placement of the tools (and when mine is closer to done there will be more on how it ends up getting set up) – it is about how you fit in your space. And how your space fits you. Without that, the rest is a bit moot. It's process. And if the process is all surface, it won't hold.

Change is hard, and change takes practice. It takes commitment. It take dedication and a willingness to step back and look critically at what you are doing and adjust as needed. Whether the adjustment is because you are falling back into old patterns, or whether it is because you haven't quite got it sussed just yet and you need to re-think. It is hard to be flexible, to not berate yourself for not knowing better – not doing better, not seeing that thing you missed. But change is life, life is change. It is all the same skill set, its just in how you apply it.

Websites and Personalities

A few days ago I received an email from someone else running a small business. In all likelihood it was generated by an algorithm rather than the person, but regardless...

They run a website design company and wanted to offer me a discount on doing my website. Giving it the benefit of the doubt I answered.

“Best of luck with your business and I hope you do well. I'm afraid I have my own gurus and cannot afford to have an outsider do my site (which is in the process of being re-vamped). I'm afraid all the artists I know are in the same boat, but I will keep it in mind if I hear of anyone. Thanks for reaching out. “

It got me to thinking...While I think there are lots of great people out there who do web design, and there are lots of businesses that benefit from their services...and let's face it, who, in running a small business has the time and expertise to design and maintain their own site?

And yet,

There are so many of us who do. Why is that?

Well, for myself it is at least in part a very definite sense of identity. I have gone through friends who became web designers and who offered me a great deal, and I worked with them for short periods. But in the end they were somehow unable how to communicate who I was.

Some of the designs were likely very good commercially. They were slick. But they were not me. I know lots of people who have gone into web design and done great things for others. I love the sites they have created for them, but I don't think they could come up with something that is for me.

Why is it that my website has been a pared down showcase that does very little to attract people to my business, or give them much information for so many years? Because it has suited me, and the business. Not smart, but true. My business has been part-time most of the time, and I have not been able to decide about certain facets of it – Where exactly do I want it to go? What exactly do I want to highlight....

For a very long time I thought I had to settle down and just focus on making one or two kinds of things. I have since realized that that is not me, and it is highly unlikely that I will be doing that.

There are aspects of my business that are not on the website at all, or only mentioned in passing. I certainly don't put any of my wig work or facial hair into the showcase. It is not appropriate for what I am trying to promote, and it is a part of what I do but not what I want to push. I have other avenues to get that work, and I get enough of it in an average year to keep me happy. I love it, but I don't want to do just that.

So keeping control of my website and its (lack of) progress is important to me. I have friends (gurus) who help me immensely – and in fact do most (currently pretty much all) of the technical work (Thank you Travis!) I am working on changing that and learning what it is I really need to know to do that work myself. But it is just another hat to wear that keeps me from making stuff, so I have been reluctant. And that is a huge reason why people hire out. And a great reason to do it if you can.

For many of us it is a raw cost factor. Many of the people I know who run a small business are emphasis on the word small. Generally it is a one person show, and the profit margins are nearly non-existent as it is. Investing in someone else's time and expertise is just not financially feasible.

Some people would love to turn over their sites and free up their time, but they just can't afford it. And if the site has been up and running a long time and offers a lot of information, the cost skyrockets pretty quickly.

Now, it is true that a lot of this has been made much simpler and cheaper – all the DIY website companies that offer templates and widgets and interfaces have made a lot of this a moot point. But when you are running a small business and you essentially are your brand it comes down to choices. Maybe the choices I'm making are technically wrong. This is probably a spot where my choices are asinine and are holding me back. There is certainly a cost not only in time, but in exposure, in reach, in promotability. Regardless, they are my choices.

I am in the process of going through and reviewing choices, and learning new skills, and doing the work to find a balance for my business and my site. I have just given the okay to my guru to mess with my blog, experimentally, to see if he can give it a further reach. I find the process terrifying, but I know that I need to step out of my comfort zone if I want this to work, and want to be able to create enough of a following to allow me to work.

I was talking about all this to a friend recently, about all the time I'm spending learning to photograph my work so that it presents reasonably well, getting Etsy up and running, writing for the site etc. He asked me whether I thought it was worth the time I was spending – the time I was missing in making things – to do all of this rather than hiring out. I'm still not sure the balance is the right one, but for now it is the option I consider the most feasible.

Don't Hold Your Breath

It has been a rough week...all the downhill of the 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 …

When you are on the rollercoaster, you have to remember to breathe.  If you hold your breath, you will pass out and miss the view when it finally goes back up.

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.