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.