July 2, 2012

farewell vs goodbye and doing what you must do

Doing What I Do - GM

It is Sunday and my Scoutie Girl post is due. Oh how I stall, avoid, procrastinate. I do laundry and eat lunch, I waffle and ponder, and I don’t decide what it is I need to say. This is the case many Sundays, but this one is different special.

It has come time for me to part ways with Scoutie Girl and it is a very bittersweet time for so many reasons.

When I first wrote here in April of 2011, 14 months ago, I was in such a different place creatively, professionally, and with reference to life and goals. I was pondering things like What is Art?, and What is original?, and even How do you get started? Good questions all, and I still enjoy a conversation around them, but… I am in a place where pondering and conversing are far second to doing. I’d say the prior is a luxury, yet it turns out the luxury is in going ahead and DOING.

We all search for answers and gather information as we try to find our place in life and work. It is natural, and necessary, and there comes a time for it to stop.

Now is that time for me.

The past six weeks since my spinal surgery I have had time for deep introspection and a good dose of  woe is me. Having cancer is hard. Spinal surgery is hard. Life is hard, and so it goes. I may have been dealt a lousy hand this year, but I am far from alone, and for the time being, at least, time does go on.

I have had to decide what I want to do. Not how can I best earn the bucks, or what people will admire me for, or even how much I can give back, but what makes me feel alive?

Don’t ask yourself what the world needs. Ask yourself what makes you come alive and then go do that. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.
-Howard Thurman

Why, I have asked myself, does it need to take a tragedy to come to this? The truth is the tragedy may have nudged me, but I think I was ready anyhow. I ended last year knowing I wanted to go deeper into my art, write more, and work with people in some healing or growth capacity.

The only thing different is my perspective on time and my new physical limitations. So, I had to make some tough decisions based on both of these. What do I continue with, what do I stop, and what do I start anew?

Sadly Scoutie Girl is a discontinue, FOR NOW. I will likely be back with guest posts as I get my next ventures off the ground!

I have decided to redo my original website again and make it more of a static site for my art, i.e. no regular blog. I will be focusing mainly on my new website and blog and the creative projects I have in mind around it.

I have learned – or, more accurately, remembered – that I am a project artist. I have been trying to force myself into the mold of… I’m not quite sure, but something else. Just creating and not paying enough attention to the purpose I suppose. For me, all my work is multi faceted, the visual images just another language for the deeper work I think about.

I need to embellish with words, to explain what I think, to interact and inspire, and create something beyond imagery that feeds the world! I also need to know when I am done and move onto the next thing.

Again, for now I am done here. I have so enjoyed the writing and even more so the feedback I have gotten here. I would not be where I am (in all the good ways) had I not done this. I have met some amazing people and have gained the wisdom of Tara and expertise of Carrie while I am at it. I have gotten past my fear of the almighty dollar and learned it is about quality of life, not pay checks. I have gained the wisdom and genuine thoughts of many readers I will miss. Perhaps you will join me at Art. Hope. Truth. I thank you all more than words (or images) can say!

And so it is I say farewell, not goodbye, as I go do what I must do to feel alive!

From the Heart,

Filed Under: Conversation Starters, creating action, Plot Notes Tagged With: , , , , , , 12 Comments
June 18, 2012

what to do when all the pegs are square and the holes round

Arranging the Pieces - GM

“Arrange whatever pieces come your way.” ~ Virginia Woolf

I have long loved this quote and have in many ways modeled my life on it. Even my artwork, primarily digital collage, is a literal arrangement of pieces. I had it included in my online bio at one point and may do so again. It certainly fits the challenges I face or, to honor the metaphor, the pieces coming my way. In the year plus I have written here at Scoutie Girl I have made many changes in my online presence, but my personal life has been pretty stable. Actually the past 2 years, since I have allowed myself to do what I love, life has been as good as it gets for me.

Six months ago all that changed and some very unfamiliar pieces came my way.

I am still far from figuring out how this new picture looks, or where the pieces may fit. That is, if they fit anywhere.

The outcome will likely be far more dimensional than smooth on the surface.

A cancer diagnosis is some scary stuff to deal with it, but what you may not know is how much it can affect every crevice of your life. Everyone’s story is different, and in my case I have been quite debilitated. The irony is rich in that I wrote a post back in December, just prior to my diagnosis, pondering how I would respond to living with a permanent disability. I was experiencing the back pain that led to the MRI that revealed the cancer. Yes, I’m writing about it again.

The thing is I don’t know how not to write about it. It has, as mentioned above, permeated every facet of my life. So, how am I arranging the pieces? Well it is a one day at a time process. Some days it is one hour at a time. As an example, I will share the story of how I came to today’s post, the story of how a creative mind works, even when it is not working so well.

Until yesterday I avoided thinking about it. Then, knowing I was running out of time, I opened my mind to the possibility of an idea. Yesterday we were invited to visit with friends for dinner and there was an arts festival going on in the town. We went a bit early to browse the festival, and while walking back to the car I saw this wall.

This worn and broken building woke something in me that is deeper and stronger than the depression and lethargy I’ve been battling.

My beginnings as a photographer and digital artist were born from abandoned buildings. These forgotten or neglected structures serving as a metaphor for my aging body, although it took time to understand that connection. As soon as I saw the wall I imagined my body scans layered upon the walled up windows. Or, in this case, the x-ray of my newly constructed spine.

How different is my body now that cancer has taken over? My very bones have been replaced by titanium, not unlike the resurrection of an old and broken building. I do believe I have another new series of work here!

I became seriously fatigued last night, another highlight of my new life, and was in bed by 8:00, bailing early on my dear friends. I thought no more about the post. A good sleep must have helped. I often process work and solve problems in my sleep and dreams.

The quote came to me this morning as my topic to spin, and then as soon as I arrived on the Scoutie Girl page, Janice Bear’s very honest post on mental disorders caught my attention. I admit to being depressed lately due to my circumstances, but the truth is I have struggled with depression for many years and have been medicated for most of them, including now. Those who have not experienced mental disorders may assume that the medication always works. Not so. I am currently experiencing situational depression in addition to my normal problem and while taking meds.

I would reiterate most of what Janice says in terms of solutions to get through the muck, and add one important one for myself:

Just do it!

When Nike first made that phrase popular my husband would tell me all the time to “just do it.” Oh how I loathed that, and yet I’ve come to understand. When you show up to the page, or canvas, or keyboard – whatever your medium of creation – something often happens. As I opened my mind yesterday and was rewarded with the wall, I have many times found inspiration just by showing up, and then I adapt.

I arrange the pieces coming my way, and when they don’t fit I make do.

A square peg may not fill a round hole, but it can still work.

How do you deal with the unwanted pieces that come your way in work, and in life? Do you adapt, compartmentalize, or something other?

Filed Under: Conversation Starters, creating action, Plot Notes Tagged With: , , , , , , , 20 Comments
June 4, 2012

you can lead a horse to water but it ain’t over till the fat lady sings

Stuck Inside - GM

Excuse me? Am I suffering from a case of bad mixed metaphors? No, not really, although they do make a nice distraction. It is more a case of lethargy, isolation, and who stole my mojo? It has been not quite one month since my spinal fusion surgery, and I have spent that time on the longest internet break ever. Not to mention the longest break from art, writing, creative pondering, and all the things that make me, me.

It was not intentional. I knew I would need some time to recover, but I was not prepared for the version of myself that came out of the operating room on June 9. My optimistic nature had me writing quick posts from my hospital bed and working on strategies to obtain a working laptop so I could work from my bed at home. I knew I’d be physically compromised, but I did not know my spirit would be tampered with.

The first week I was truly not capable of anything beyond the basics. By the middle of the second week I was well enough to do some work if I could access my creativity. I could not.

I was a blubbering mess of self pity and what’s the point of life anyway. I truly could not see the point in trying.

Fortunately I have friends that know better than I. One of them arranged for an open house in my honor on Memorial day, and that, coupled with a very unwilling effort on my part, has gotten me here.

Knowing that others care about my existence puts the pressure on me to ponder the possibility of getting over this seemingly insurmountable hump.

Getting that far got me to consider the possibility that my online presence might matter as well. I mean, I know this on some level, but the brain is complex and sneaky, especially when recovering from massive amounts of narcotics and anesthesia. I was really not myself.

This weekend, the nice weather and my forced effort at physical and mental exercise have given me a glimpse of the self I am missing. I put aside the summer reading and needlework I’d been using to occupy my time and turned on the computer. Where to start?

Seth Godin is always a good bet, short and to the point. As it often happens he was in my orbit. In Understanding Stuck, my problem became clear. I am quite literally stuck.

Change gets made by people who care, who have some sort of authority and are willing to take responsibility.

Often, though, finding all three is tough, particularly when faced with the immovable object of the stuck organization.

The obvious difference here being the stuck organization is my own self. When I was originally diagnosed with cancer in December, my innate optimism saw it as an opportunity. My core self still does, but what I was not seeing is I needed to change my game. Not just tweak it, shift it, or add and subtract from it, but wholesale change. A blank slate. I am not and will never be the same as pre-cancer Gwyn. Why should I look at my work as a person that no longer is?

Many of my old ideas may still fit into my new game, and in starting with a blank slate it will be far easier to see how and where. My next go-to person is Tara. In her interview with Philip Auerswald, they discuss the idea that the new economy (new way of life) will require people willing to create a new game.

In the interview, Auerswald uses an engaging metaphor: a chess game. In the old system, “there’s a set of structured opportunities and a clear hierarchy,” just as a chess game has a clear cut set of rules and roles.

People who are off the chess board and are spending all their time trying to get back on are going to feel frustration.

But what is happening now, economically speaking, is that the real game is happening off the chess board: What happens when you start playing with all the spare pieces? Make up your own rules?

This thinking applies not just to my work in the world but to my whole way of life. The old game is over, and nothing I can do will bring it back. Truth be told, I don’t want it back. My new game requires more guts, and more originality, and more ME. The real me, not me padded with Tara and Seth and whatever ebook of the week strikes my fancy. Not to say that Tara and Seth and all those ebooks can’t help me, but they no longer can be viewed as a roadmap.

I hate to admit it, but the changes I was pondering since learning I was sick, and that my time is compromised, still had me searching outside myself for validation and instruction. If I am ever going to do my own thing, whatever that is, NOW is the time. I realize now that my reluctance to “get back in the game” was subconsciously my insecurity about letting my truth shine.

Fortunately I do still care, I have ultimate authority over myself, and I am willing to take responsibility for myself albeit somewhat reluctantly.

This is where support comes in, and I know I am extremely blessed in that area. My readers here and on my own site and the many friends in my personal life have my back, not to mention my small but awesome family, and my rock solid husband.

What new game will I invent? I have a few ideas.

How about you? What possibilities do you see for me, and more importantly for yourself? Will it take life threatening illness and major surgery to get you started?

I do hope not. May you learn from me as I share now and moving on. I’ve been led to the water and I am getting thirsty again. The game is new, and far from over…

Thank you, people, it’s good to be back!

From the Heart,

Filed Under: Conversation Starters, Plot Notes Tagged With: , , , , , , , , 12 Comments
May 21, 2012

choosing to be – or – staring down failure with an ace in my back pocket

This post originally ran in May 2011.

Tenacity by Gwyn Michael

If you haven’t noticed, I am a Seth Godin fan, and again I will refer to him. Seth writes a lot about failure and why it’s good because it means we are trying things, we are “poking the box.” I agree, but it is easier to get behind when you are not in the final stages of what could be a big fail.

Seth has this to say about failure:

The math is magical: you can pile up lots of failures and still keep rolling, but you only need one juicy success to build a career.

The killer is the category called ‘neither’. If you spend your days avoiding failure by doing not much worth criticizing, you’ll never have a shot at success. Avoiding the thing that’s easy to survive keeps you from encountering the very thing you’re after.

And yet we market and work and connect and create as if just one failure might be the end of us.

Aha! I have been doing exactly that, looking at this project as if this one failure could be the end of me. Truth is I already have two new project ideas, most likely better ones.

I have never been much of a sports fan but I am gaining a new respect for athletes. Even with a big paycheck coming it has to be hard to get back out there for the last inning, quarter, whatever when you are losing badly. But they do it, again and again.

It ain’t over ’til it’s over. ~ Yogi Berra

Never have I understood that better. We work hard as entrepreneurs, often alone.

On Friday after a bit of a meltdown I got back in the game and made some changes, one of them being to back away from the work. I was running myself ragged trying and getting nowhere. After a good break I came back and gave the project a makeover. I gave myself time to look at what may not be working and change it. I came up with some new strategies to reach people. I reached out and got some great advice from friends.

Too little too late? We shall see, but I am in til the end whatever the outcome and it kind of sucks, but I can’t say I regret it and I can’t say I won’t try again.

I choose to be.

This week I am not giving much to link to or respond to but I’d like you to answer this:

When the chips are down, what gets you back in the game?

What gives you the tenacity to find the crack in the concrete and grow?

What makes you choose to be?

Filed Under: Conversation Starters, Plot Notes Tagged With: , , , , , 3 Comments
May 7, 2012

artist or artiste? it’s all in the money…

Cash Tree by GM tree courtesy iStock

…or is it? Since attending The Art of Earning Live in February, I have been very aware that I need to change my prices (go higher) and attitude towards money – both in earning it and spending it. We have been taught in our culture that money is what we must strive for, and it is the root of all evil. Take the lyrics if this once popular song (Used in commercials still). Money, money, money, money…

Towards the end of the Art of Earning seminar Adam King said to me:

“You should not be selling anything for less than $1,000.”

I am unsure if he meant that literally, or as a metaphor for selling myself short, i.e. not valuing myself and my work. Either way I get it. If I am going to be a real artiste (*by my definition, a higher level artist) I need to act like one and price myself accordingly. I need to take myself and my work seriously! My highest priced item currently is $255, the lowest $25.

I talked with some friends about the idea of taking away all the tiny prints, 5×5 and 5×7 for instance, priced at $25 and only selling 8×10, or even 11×14 and above, at a higher price. Two of them vehemently disagreed. One said, What about the people that can’t afford more than $25, and what if they want to start small and see how it looks before buying big? Being one of those in the category of “can’t afford” currently, it is hard to say I am out pricing myself and some of my friends.

So, what if my “ideal customer” is not me and my friends?

Hmm I have to admit it makes me a tad uncomfortable, and so does the fact that, due to medical bills, and the awareness I may not live to a very old age, I need to earn more than ever before. My husband earns enough to keep us afloat when things are going well. Add the co-pays we are dealing with and we are more like knee-deep or more. I don’t need worry about money to take up my time when I am trying to heal. So, what is the solution?

It is time to take myself seriously, and hope my friends will too. I am an artiste!

(“Artiste,” as it turns out, is just French for artist, although it can indicate a musician more so than a painter. I however have always seen it used as if to indicate an artist of higher caliber.)

What does this mean?

  • I am going to be hiking my prices.
  • I will only be showing and selling my very best work.*
  • I will only be showing at venues that support the value of my work.**
  • I will stand behind the work, and why it is worth what I charge.

Does this make sense to you? Do you price art with respect for your self and work?

For me I think the key is in how I look at it. As I say in the title, it’s all about the money…or is it? Well it is not. It’s all about the value. I put my very best self into my work, and price it like a sale item at a garage sale. Well, not quite that bad, but you get it. If I feel the work is gallery or museum worthy I don’t want to price it as if I’m selling at Target.

If I don’t take myself seriously no one else will, right?

There is one other troubling aspect to this decision. What do I do with the work I am currently selling at too low a price? It seems wrong to sell it at a higher price when people have purchased it for perhaps far less (I have already raised my prices once or twice).

Would you be upset if you purchased something for $100 and found out it used to cost $25?

I am keeping this short and sweet as it is difficult to sit at the desk these days. (For any of you that have been following there is good news! My spinal fusion has been moved up to this coming Wednesday the 9th. I will likely be unable to post in two weeks as I am scheduled to, unless that new laptop falls from the sky, or they start growing on trees.) I look forward to returning pain free to continue this discussion.

Please let me know what you think here in the comments! I really need your opinion.

From the Heart,

 

* I do not have a lot of pieces in my shop, but I do have some mediocre pieces there while I keep hidden some of my best. Time to purge my portfolio.

** For instance, no craft fairs where there are crocheted toilet paper covers, OK?

Filed Under: Buy You, For You, Conversation Starters, Plot Notes Tagged With: , , , , , , 12 Comments