Buried Treasure
Thanks to Seth Apter for drawing the art-blog community closer together - again!! He is so amazingly generous; blog world is definitely a better place because of Seth and all his efforts. Here is one of my favorite 'oldies'!
deadlines. all the years I worked at our agency we lived by them. we had drop deadlines too. nice language. get it done or drop dead? think about or do little else until the deadline arrives and the project, thing, action is complete and one can resume living. It has been nearly five years since I've lived - and died more than a few times - in that world. other than paying bills on time, washing socks when everyone starts yelling, and stocking the fridge with the basics, I don't have deadlines. doctor's appointments don't count because you all know that passing the hours in a waiting room is enough to kill anyone. I am fairly self-propelled, albeit somewhat tardy on occasion; my daughter says we put the 'pro' in procrastination. call me human.
today I had a deadline. I have been working on a journal project that has elicited joy, inspiration, new techniques and a creative high beyond my wildest imagination. so it didn't feel very dead. I delivered the 8 freshly varnished books to the gallery where the woman ordered them back in October. I remember my jaw dropped when Frankie told me how she'd priced them... more than I'd ever think of charging, though I think it's natural to undervalue our work, especially early in the game. today she said they were worth every penny, beautiful, each one entirely unique in concept, color, execution. my costs were negligible, but then again, can you put a price on the creative process, the energy and love, attention to detail?
I found out how much love I'd expended when I left them spread on the counter and got in my car to drive back home. It was all so bizarre, how could I possibly feel sad, wistful, empty even?? I called my friend Debbie, who has been making her living as an artist for more than 20 years. She laughed and said she still goes through it, the not-quite-ready-to part with it, kind of like giving away a piece of yourself. How silly?! She said it was a good sign, that I had accomplished my goal. that more than art, each piece is a work of love going out into the universe.
My good friend and professional photographer, Jeff Rogers, photographed the journals in his studio the other day - I'll post them as soon as he gets around to burning the images on a disk. Hmmm, maybe I should have given him a deadline.
deadlines. all the years I worked at our agency we lived by them. we had drop deadlines too. nice language. get it done or drop dead? think about or do little else until the deadline arrives and the project, thing, action is complete and one can resume living. It has been nearly five years since I've lived - and died more than a few times - in that world. other than paying bills on time, washing socks when everyone starts yelling, and stocking the fridge with the basics, I don't have deadlines. doctor's appointments don't count because you all know that passing the hours in a waiting room is enough to kill anyone. I am fairly self-propelled, albeit somewhat tardy on occasion; my daughter says we put the 'pro' in procrastination. call me human.
today I had a deadline. I have been working on a journal project that has elicited joy, inspiration, new techniques and a creative high beyond my wildest imagination. so it didn't feel very dead. I delivered the 8 freshly varnished books to the gallery where the woman ordered them back in October. I remember my jaw dropped when Frankie told me how she'd priced them... more than I'd ever think of charging, though I think it's natural to undervalue our work, especially early in the game. today she said they were worth every penny, beautiful, each one entirely unique in concept, color, execution. my costs were negligible, but then again, can you put a price on the creative process, the energy and love, attention to detail?
I found out how much love I'd expended when I left them spread on the counter and got in my car to drive back home. It was all so bizarre, how could I possibly feel sad, wistful, empty even?? I called my friend Debbie, who has been making her living as an artist for more than 20 years. She laughed and said she still goes through it, the not-quite-ready-to part with it, kind of like giving away a piece of yourself. How silly?! She said it was a good sign, that I had accomplished my goal. that more than art, each piece is a work of love going out into the universe.
My good friend and professional photographer, Jeff Rogers, photographed the journals in his studio the other day - I'll post them as soon as he gets around to burning the images on a disk. Hmmm, maybe I should have given him a deadline.
Comments
and your work looks fantastic, sweets!
The doll ornaments weren't at the show, I just made them for a few friends and the one I posted on my site. I would have bought one from you at your show though :). Sometimes you just need the right crowd!
xoxo,
Kristin
The doll ornaments weren't at the show, I just made them for a few friends and the one I posted on my site. I would have bought one from you at your show though :). Sometimes you just need the right crowd!
xoxo,
Kristin
I can very much relate to the emotions you are describing - there's is always a let down I go through, with just finishing a body of work. It is that pouring of self into the work, and then stepping away - whoosh, emptied. Not emptied in a 'bad' way, simply ready to be refilled, but in the pause between completion and beginning again there is a sense of loss having completed and released something I was so intimate with for such a long time. All I know is your feelings sound *normal* to me!!
xox K
I can not wait to see the photo of them.
Take care,
Katelen
the key is supposed to stay in the cage just as the rest of the objects.
you can find some photos on my blog, help yourself :)
http://cynkowepoletko.blogspot.com/2009/11/zdjecia-poklatkowe.html
best wishes
Hugs,
Gaby