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.

Internal Structures

 

Ah! The joys of life....In the early hours of the morning after a second relatively sleepless night, my brain churning through everything that is going on, intellectually I have decided something that I hope I can follow through on. Amidst the chaos of everything else it occurs to me that one of the things my sketchbook and my various notebooks are filled with are ideas for tools. Tools that I need to make so I can make the things I want to make. I know that a big part of my problem is that when I have an idea I find a way to muddle through with what is at hand. My time has always been so limited that when faced with the “make the tool to make the thing” or “make the thing” dilemma, I default to the latter.

Inevitably I am not happy with the results because I rushed it and shortcut the job because I didn't make the tool. There is also a lot of stuff I've never bothered to make because I don't have the “thing”. The making of the tool, for me, will also be part of the process of running how to do the project through my head. Taking the flash of inspiration through at least some of the creation steps mentally. Letting my hands work out what will be required.

Feeling rushed is another aspect of this – knowing that had a set amount of time before I ran out of time to work on it with uninterrupted flow is how it started. I think over the years it has developed into an impatience – a sense that I don't have the time to just do the work. This has been compounded by the inconsistency with which, and limited time that I've been able to give to really building the skills I want to develop. In turn, of course, this results in frustration and dissatisfaction with the work I produce – knowing I should be better, the work should be better – and the more time passes the older I get and the shorter the window for improving those skills.

Photo by Travis Sweet

In trying to work through the failure of a piece as I lay staring at the darkness, the remembrance of some of those sketches of tools I thought it would be good to make began to blossom at the back of my mind. They've been there, in the shadows for the last few weeks, whispering to me. More of them have presented themselves with this project. And suddenly it occurred to me that I should make a commitment to myself to take time over the next 3 months and start to make the tools. Some of them can be made inside (I'll try to keep those for the really cold days) – some will require some time at the forge – some are forging projects in and of themselves. I had wanted to run through a bunch of basics – I still do – to restart my skill building so, perhaps for some of them I can combine the two.

 I'm deciding to go back to the start as I fine tune the work I'm doing setting up spaces – do all the types of work I've shied away from because I didn't have the time to dedicate, and I knew I was rusty. Remember the techniques I learned because I knew I could combine them with things in interesting ways, and take the time to practice. Make, but make for the making. 

Over the years I've lost sight of the way to reach the places I want to get to – I guess in many ways I've mistaken my finger for the moon, as the zen koan goes. Maybe in going back to the beginnings I will remember how to get lost in the work.   If I want to reach the stars, it seems I've just remembered that I have to build the shuttle.

Thoughts About Patron"s regarding the Art/Work Lecture by Cheryl Baxter

Once again, this is a late post.  I wrote it a couple of weeks ago after I had watched the lecture, and then have not gotten to posting.   

For those who have watched the presentation I posted  (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=twM-g63oOmM) – part of the Art:Work series out of AACLethbridge in Alberta that was posted on youtube - there are several points that really piqued my interest and I'd like to explore. If the link doesn't work you can go to youtube and search Cheryl Baxter Art/Work lecture and it will come up part way down the page.

This is mostly a thought exercise – my brain's way of expanding on things that it wants to ruminate on. I felt that the lecture had a lot to offer in terms of how I think about my art and my business, and to some extent my identity which is all tied up in the other two. Since this blog has become largely about those things I felt that this would be as good a place as any to offer up some of these ideas for the mysterious others who actually read this thing to think about as well.

I felt that the lecture was pretty comprehensive and covered a fair bit of ground in the allotted time. One of the things that struck me was Ms. Baxter's observations and the interpretations that followed. For the most part I felt that what was said was clear and largely correct in my own experience. One of the things I liked best about the presentation was that it made me think. It engaged me, and engaged my brain and caused me to think about my business, my art and myself.

However, I noted a difference of my own opinion when it comes to defining a patron – or perhaps difference is too strong a word. Personally I think there is more than one “class” of patron. That is where the difference in opinion stems from, and it is likely largely due to the types of experiences we have had in dealing with the public. Of course, it may also be that what I feel is a different “class” of patron just carries a different definition for the speaker, or perhaps it was just generalization and broad strokes in the interest of time and information being put forward.

I absolutely agree with the classic definition of a patron in the way in which it was presented. For those of you who have not watched the lecture, it was along the lines of a person who has no (or very few) financial, educational or time confines which might inhibit their participation in support of the arts, and of artists. (Hopefully that is not taking Cheryl Baxter's definition out of context – it is my interpretation of the gist of what the definition that was presented was.)

However, I feel that there is another type of patron – or what I consider to be a patron. I like to think of them as grassroots patrons. People who have some – often many – financial constraints which offer considerable difficulty in participation of support of art and artists, and yet they do it anyway. People who are so engaged by the artist or their work that they save for a piece, or they forgo something else for possession of a piece that speaks to them – or for a piece from a certain individual. These are people who search for opportunities to support individuals in spite of everything in their lives that speak against it. Perhaps patron really isn't the right term for them in any context. 

The connection between patron and patronizing was not lost on me, and I think that Ms. Baxter's mention of the point and the complexity of the relationship between patron and artist is a very important one. So maybe it is my phrasing that needs to be adjusted. But what to call them then? The theatrical term of “angel” springs to mind, certainly. And given my connections to the theatre world it might be appropriate. There are, however, people in my own personal circles who I'm beginning to think of as my own grassroots patrons who I suspect would take great exception to being called an angel. (Yes, Doc, I mean you.)

Definately food for thought.