where craftiness comes from: building memories

for like ever wood sign by williamdohman - click image for more info

The one thing that I love about craftiness and creativity is how it brings us together. In a world where things are fast and everyone seems constantly in a hurry, creating is the one thing that helps us to slow down and take stock.

No matter what the activity is, from sewing with friends to crafting with children, we naturally slow down and relax into the here and now. It gives us space to breathe and time to think. It lets us laugh, and just have fun.

How many of you remember the times spent at art classes or with parents or grandparents creating something? It wasn’t always about the finished product that you created but the time you spent creating.

It’s the memories we create that live on, sometimes much longer than the activity itself.

I remember one summer, I babysat my younger cousins who were 6 & 8 at the time, 3 days a week for the whole summer. We spent those days creating scrapbooks of places they’d like to visit on vacation and learning about the cultures of other countries. Eight years later, we still talk about the fun we had that TV free summer.

The scrapbooks weren’t perfect and the information in them is out of date, but the memories have stuck like glue. I think sometimes we can let these opportunities slip by through busyness and the feeling that we don’t deserve or haven’t earned the time to relax. But it’s amazing what an afternoon of fun creating can do to clear your mind and help you focus next time you need to be on the ball.

Creative sparks of brilliance come when you least expect them.

I think our creativity comes from inside our clever brains and our happy hearts. Sometimes we just need to stop, listen, and give it time to come to the surface.

Do you agree?

push through? or pause? you decide

Officially, Thanksgiving is over. The dishes have been done. The house cleaned up. And if you are someone who runs your own business making and selling a service or products, you have been gearing up for one of the busiest times of your year.

Just when the light is less bright, and the evenings are chilly and cold, just when squirrels and birds are going to bed at 5pm and some of the much bigger animals further north are settling in for their long winter’s nap, you are perhaps putting in longer than even usual hours, maintaining your online shop, working on your marketing plan, rewriting copy, creating work and photographing that work. You might also be working art fairs and craft shows, and getting the word out about your work in person.

Any way you look at it, you are busy.

I had my Thanksgiving schedule all figured out a week or so ago. I had blocks of time marked out on my calendar and I was ready with what I felt was a good balance of work, family, friends, and creating. {If this were a movie, I’d be cueing up some music in a minor key, and having the camera look down long mysterious hallways, alerting you all to what might be coming, but hopefully not giving it all away.}

So, Wednesday night I noticed that the water wasn’t as hot as it usually is. I thought: it’s on a timer, and it’s late, and it’s cold out. Thursday morning my husband went to play in the annual Turkey Bowl with high school friends, and I went in to my studio to paint. Lovely Thanksgiving morn. On schedule. Relaxed.

Three or four hours later the husband is back. Dirty. Sweaty. Muddy. Ready for a shower. And {cue the music} the water is barely luke warm. Pilot light blown out we think, but no time to deal with it, as we are due to meet his family for Thanksgiving dinner. Still on schedule, though the sureness I felt in my weekend schedule has skipped a few beats.

Dinner is had, we return home, and I am making tea, and realise, that the water is no longer luke warm. It is freezing. OK. We’ll deal with that in the morning. Morning arrives, we try to get the pilot light re-lit, and nothing. We call some people to ask advice. Still nothing. We call our plumber. Well, he’s on holiday, and a recorded message tells us that he will return on Monday. So my weekend schedule has officially crashed and burned.

I call PG&E to see if someone can come out. Yeah, no. It’s the Friday after Thanksgiving, and most of their crews are home with their families. So they will only send someone out if it’s our heat that’s gone out or there’s an emergency, like a power line has come down. So we call some more plumbers, and actually find someone who is working. He comes out to look at the water heater. It’s now 3pm.

This whole time, pretty much the whole day Friday, I have had this conversation running non-stop in my head: You have to finish those little paintings and get them out in the mail today. You should be working on stuff for the art fair next weekend. You need to finish that project for a client before Monday. You need to re-list the stuff that’s sold in the shop. To which I reply {all in my head of course}, I know! So shut up already.

Friday, now later afternoon. It’s starting to get dark. I haven’t finished the paintings that need to go out in the mail. The plumber has determined that both water heaters are dead. In fact one of them has probably been dead for quite some time. He points out some scorch marks on the lower edge of the pilot compartment and says that it’s probably a good thing it died, since it was burning outside the heater. I try not to think about that too much. And he is on the phone to his “guy” trying to track down a new water heater on the Friday after Thanksgiving at 4:47 pm.

Yeah. We do have a lucky star hanging above us most of the time, but apparently not when it comes to water heaters. And definitely not when we’re combining two dead water heaters, a long holiday weekend, and a huge long list of things that capital MUST be done.

I will confess. I fretted. The plumber left, he said he’d be back Saturday morning, and he’d get it all sorted out, and I went back to my studio to assess what I hadn’t done, and I fretted some more.

OK, I’ll just point out that here’s where I made it all make sense for me.

I stopped.

In years past I might not have made this move. I might have kept pushing through. I might have created a lot of busy activity to make myself feel like something was getting done. But this time, I had the good sense {after an hour or so of fretting and countless hours of listening to the task-mistress voice inside my head} to let it all go.

So the paintings might be a day late getting to the gallery. So I might not have as much stuff for the art fair as I originally wanted. So I might have to call my client and let her know that my comps would be a few days late. But seriously, the main thing was I hadn’t had a shower on this chilly, damp gray day after Thanksgiving, and I really needed one.

Fretting can work up a sweat.

So I stopped and called a friend who lives nearby and asked if we could come over and shower. It turned out to be the best thing I could have done for my head space, and for my fretting. My husband and I took showers {oh, hot water, how I love thee} and hung out with our friend whose wife was away back east for the holiday. He told us that this was the most perfect thing that could have happened. He was just starting to feel a little holiday lonely and then there we were on his door step. We drank some wine. We danced in his living room. We laughed till my stomach hurt. And my inner task-mistress just shut the hell up.

Sometimes working on our businesses means pushing through the long hours and solving endless problems and working till it’s time for sleep and then getting up and doing it all again the next day.

And then there are other times when you have to look at why you are pushing though a difficult situation.

Is it so that you can get to the other side of something that you’ve been trying to crack for a while? Or is it because you’ve become so accustomed to pushing through that you just do it without thinking about your ultimate destination or the outcome? And the other important angle to look at is the reality assessment: Will pushing through this situation get me anywhere other than tired and irritated? Is it solvable right now, right here?

We got home at 11-ish Friday night from our friend’s house. And I painted for a couple of hours, and got the pieces finished and ready to mail. A day late, but they were ready to go for Saturday. And I felt better. I was showered. I was smiling. I went to bed with no fretful thoughts running through my head that would turn into weird dreams in the middle of the night.

I paused in my heavily scheduled weekend due to circumstances that I had absolutely no control over, and it all turned out okay. Were there things in my etsy shop that would have sold if I had re-listed them more quickly? Perhaps. Am I a little late on all the details and deadlines? A little bit, yes. Am I fretting and crabby and tired? No.

Oh, and the hot water. We still don’t have any. The plumber couldn’t get the hot water heater we wanted, so rather than settle for the less desirable one, we’re waiting till Monday, which is tomorrow as I finish writing this, and everything is truly okay. People have been very generous with their hot water, and when I finish editing this piece, I’ll be heading to another friend’s for a shower. Oh happy day.

living a creative life: a brief manifesto

This week we’re taking time out to share some classic Scoutie Girl posts. Today’s post originally appeared on May 24, 2010.

Wrapped Up

Living a creative life is taking joy in thinking outside the box. It’s finding abundance in the most simple things: basic ingredients for a healthy supper, uncut fabric, dirt, a camera, a crayon, a thought. A feeling. It’s the happy medium between haves & have-nots, finding joy in both. It’s taking a little and making something that’s more.

Creative living is not being satisfied with boredom. It’s seeking stimulation and not escape – well, seeking stimulation to escape from the banal. Even finding the wonderment in the mundane. It’s about being spontaneous and having a passion for life, the process of living. It’s the struggles – writer’s block, tech failures, blank slates, depression, misunderstanding, being outside the norm – and it’s the moment of clarity when passion overrides pain.

It’s a mess on the kitchen table, supplies strewn around the floor, an open door to studio that’s a little less than neat.

Living a creative life is being satisfied while always crave more. It’s the independence of knowing you’re not reliant on the status quo.

It’s about finding joy in the similarities of friends and finding excitement in the differences.

It’s savoring each moment, making it precious – but still always wanting more.

A creative life is one to call your own.

A creative life is one lived in conversation with yourself, your surroundings, your community, and your raw materials – whatever they may be. Living a creative life is a philosophy, a way of thinking, not a label, an education, or a profession. Living creatively is knowing the rules and occasionally – or more often – ignoring them. It’s coloring outside the lines and sometimes on walls. It’s daring to be different when everyone tells you to be the same.

It’s a good reason to wake up on Monday mornings. And a great reason to celebrate the weekend.

Living creatively is not separate from the everyday – it happens in between the couldas, wouldas, and shouldas.

It’s not dependent on being an artist, a designer, or a maker – although I know that you are all of those things.

{image credit: photorealist acrylic on canvas painting by leah giberson}

Do You Honour Your Own Vision?

A few years ago I worked on a project that I was totally and completely in love with. A series of cards that I also envisioned as a boxed set and further saw as journals. I dove into the project open-hearted and fully excited. I had an art director at a large stationery publisher who was interested, and I spent a few months fully engaged, totally jazzed and working hard.

The project went for design review, and was rejected.

I spent a bit of time totally disappointed and ended up putting the project aside, thinking, “Huh, well that didn’t work out.” I put all my sketches and finished mock ups in a box and moved along to other things.

Earlier this year, I found the box of sketches and mock ups and got totally excited all over again. I stopped and listened to how I felt. I still wanted to make these cards, that desire hadn’t gone away, and maybe, just maybe, that said more than the initial rejection of the work. I made some changes to the original project and decided to release the cards in my Etsy shop. The format has totally been transformed but the idea is still there – a series of astrology birthday cards (you can find them here) and they are starting to sell. What gives me the most pleasure is the e-mails I have received from people telling me things like: wow, this is just what I’ve wanted to find in a birthday card!

So the thing that I got to thinking about is this:

Leaving aside prevailing trends and the overall market, what is it that makes an idea fly?

Is it enthusiasm and perseverance? If the idea is a physical product, is it about unveiling the idea and then making changes as needed to fit the current market? Is there an aspect of kismet involved? Or is it all of the above, and probably more?

I have found that holding onto a vision — for a project, a collaboration, anything really — can be tricky. There is the need to stand fully behind it, feet planted, sleeves rolled up and an excitement about getting to work, and at the same time to hold the vision loosely in my hands, to see what it wants to become, to see where it wants to go.

I believe that a vision, or an idea, doesn’t want to be strangled, or pigeon-holed; it wants to fly.

I think that anyone who has had a vision for something would say that their vision takes on a life of its own, and being able to allow it to lead you a bit, is just as important as the initial idea. Much of this listening to a vision is also linked to being able to hear your own inner voice. Being able to get in touch with your own self, and listen to the wisdom that resides there. The key for me is to step away from the opinions and the feedback, away from looking at what other people are doing, away from what is trending, and what is popular, and listen to what excites me. Listen to what makes me feel positive and energised.

So here is the current question that I put out to a group of artists and entrepreneurs:
Do you have a product that you created and love, but it’s not moving; or a service that you offer that no one is taking you up on; a partnership that is feeling stagnant, or an area of your business that you are just not reaping any rewards from? How do you know if it’s time to let something go? How do you know if it’s time to cut bait and move on, or if it’s time to be patient and keep working?

We are all bound to hit a figurative wall every now and then. There are too many obstacles to overcome to complete a project that it seems impossible. You begin to dread working on something that you’d normally love. When this happens to me, I take a break. I put it away for a few days, both physically and mentally. If it was something I really care about, I find myself filled with desire to get back to that project. If I still experience that dread or even indifference, I typically let that go because my heart wasn’t in it to start with.

Christen Olivarez is a writer/editor/lover of life.

* * * * * * *

A simple truth about me: sewing and fabric make me very very happy. When I began sewing again after a 20 year break, people started asking me to sell the bags and aprons I was creating. I was so delighted by their requests (and it meant playing with more fabric!), so suddenly there were many assembly lines of created items that found there way to my Etsy shop and some in-person shows. With each weekend spent creating the same items on repeat that I was “convinced” would sell at a particular upcoming show (items that might not have been creations I would have made for myself), my love of sewing turned into a part-time job I wasn’t sure I wanted.

Finally, after just breaking even at a big show, I decided to stop the assembly lines and participating in shows for a while. I spent some time away from sewing and began focusing on other aspects of my business. As those aspects began to thrive, I turned to sewing when I wanted to just have fun in my studio. I now believe that the reason I didn’t have success at a few shows in the past was partly because the audience could sense that the joy wasn’t there for me. Now, I take my own “joy temperature” when in the midst of a project and I make adjustments when I sense joy isn’t one of my guides.

Liz Lamoreux is a creator, a teacher, a writer.

* * * * * * *

About ten years ago, I had a flash of inspiration to create live paintings at weddings, paintings that are inspired by the special moments and colors of each unique wedding. I mulled the idea over for awhile, and eventually “practiced” at one of my close friend’s weddings. They loved it, and through word of mouth, I did about five more wedding paintings over the course of several years.

Over the past couple years, I’ve had some inquiries, but no takers on the wedding paintings. I’ve realized that as much as I enjoy creating these live paintings, it’s actually a lot of work and a lot of pressure! Perhaps my heart is not totally in it, and this is why the business has slowed down? It’s so important to stay present to where your passion truly lies and remember that this is an ever-evolving process.

Flora Bowley is an internationally celebrated painter, teacher, and inspirationalist, and is currently writing a book entitled, “Brave Intuitive Painting: Let Go. Be Bold. Unfold.”

* * * * * * *

I think that a person should only really let something go if they feel dispassionate about it themselves or if it no longer makes them happy. If the product/service/business pursuit is still filling you up with joy and excitement and love, why ditch it? I have faith that potential clients and consumers will eventually pick up on the fact that you’re stoked and then become stoked themselves. So it’s really a question of whether or not what you’re pursuing is good for YOU, if that makes sense.

For example: I created a series of small paintings a few years ago that no one seemed to like as much as I did. But they made me really happy to create, so I kept going with them. Not even a year later, a few of those paintings were recognized in Communication Arts magazine when they did a feature on my work. In fact, the story idea stemmed from one of those paintings!

Penelope Dullaghan is a former art-director turned award-winning freelance illustrator who chronicles her artistic development at her website, Penelope Illustration.

* * * * * * *

How do you know? I think you have to make space for knowing. A few months ago I started feeling unsatisfied with a project that’s taken up a lot of my time without a lot of success. At first I wanted to either lean hard into the project, knowing I hadn’t given it my complete all, or just stop, drop, and go after something different. In the end, after some thought and discussion, I went for a different and new-to-me approach: taking a break, a hiatus, without doing anything rash.

That “middle ground” is not, as I’d feared, waffle-y or indecisive at all—it’s actually rich and powerful, a space for me to just be creative without a goal, and attend to other aspects of my life that have been a little neglected. I’ve discovered more in this space than I would have by either keeping going or stopping, including huge inspiration and clarity on said project. Even with that clarity, I’m still sticking with the timeline I’d created for my break instead of rushing back to work, because I don’t know what else I might discover in this process—and I’m loving it on its own.

Maeg Yosef is an artist, illustrator, writer, wife, and mama living and loving in Western Massachusetts.

So, what is exciting you? What is calling to you? Is there a project that you gave up on because of feedback you received, but it’s still near and dear to your heart? What are you being called to create that might not be on a trend cusp so you are hesitating? Perhaps it’s time to stand up (shoulders back) and begin that something, or perhaps it’s time to take a break and listen to your own heart. Whichever is the case, we’d love to hear your stories.

you have a secret admirer

image by flycharlie – click image for info

Dear passion-driven entrepreneur,

I want you to know how much I admire you. You do what so many people dream of but don’t have the courage, permission, or guts to do. You do work that’s often deeply personal, heart-centered, and that makes a real difference in the world.

Is someone handing out awards for this stuff?

Because regardless of if you’ve “made it,” what your sales are, or how many blog visitors you have, you are doing it. And that’s more success than most people on the planet will know.

I hope you will keep it up. For as long as it’s right for you. That you’ll work through the hard bits, seeking support & education when you need it, and doing your own thing when you don’t.

You matter. Your work matters. You’re probably doing even better than you think.

You have an admirer in me. And probably in lots of people you don’t know, but whose lives you have touched with a soft hand-knit cap, a whimsical piece or art, or well-turned phrase.

Give yourself credit. You deserve it.

Gathering light,

 

P.S – Know someone who could use this message? Pass it on.