Etsy First Impressions, Output Problems, Creative Communities and the Prevention of Soul Sucking

Painting just hasn't been in the cards lately, nor has it been on the coffee or kitchen tables and certainly not at the desk.  That explains the nearly month-long gap between the last update and now-- but what explains the not-painting?  Well a couple of things.

Psssttt.... This is going to be a wordy one, and since there's no single painting to breakdown or discuss, I've sprinkled photos of things that've taken up time which has not been spent painting.  I hope this will be somewhat more appealing to those readers who are not interesting in my rambling all my readers.  

The second and shorter thing, which is why I'm starting with it, is an overall frustration with Etsy as a promoting and selling platform for "all things handmade"(Lies upon lies!).  It's been fairly easy and inexpensive to display things to sell on Etsy.  For my meager inventory, it's certainly cheaper than building a website with shopping cart capabilities.  The majority of my frustration is on the promotion end.  While Etsy makes a claim for all things handmade, it's branding itself to a very specific market *cough, hipsters, cough*.  Since most of my items feature more than one color, and do not contain owls and handlebar mustaches, it's likely my stuff will not gain much exposure.  And so, the lackluster store debut doesn't have me clearing the candles from my coffee table to build up my inventory.

Since my childhood days of beading, I've always, always wanted to make jewelry
by drilling directly through glass marbles. Even as I have the right bits and drill
to cut through glass, I've never been able to get to the other end before the marble
cracks.  Here are a couple of failed attempts, and a cracked piece of sea glass,
which almost never cracks on me.  It was that kind of day though. 

It seems I'm not alone in my frustration with Etsy, which is nice.  When I'm annoyed or angry about something, I feel like less of a crazy malcontent when there's a community for that annoyance and anger-- always comforting.  Speaking of community, I tend to have trouble finding them, which is one Etsy element that has me pleased.  Art and writing are more often than not, solitary activities.  Even when you find communities and groups devoted to encouraging and creating connections among its members, I've never found much long-term fraternity or success among them.  Writers often pretend they want to discuss and help improve your work, but most writers use that as a pretense to discuss their work, or at least apply/compare your style and methods to their own.  It's hard not to.  You want to offer advice from experience, so what do you have to work with apart from your own writing experience?  Talking to other writers is great when you want to talk about the publishing industry or personal quirks that come with the process-- it's also extremely important to learn how to workshop among them.  But once you learn how to do it and do it well, don't bother with it unless you haven't heard the word "theme" or "form" in a while.  I have yet to hear a non-writer ever give a crap about "theme" or "form"in anything (and to a lesser extent "tone").  In the real world, "theme" is for lame parties and "form" is something you use to sew or display a dress.  If you want help with writing, get a bitchin' community of readers, not fellow writers.  With artists, it's either hit or miss.  It's not uncommon for artists to hate other artists based on nothing more than the fact that they're artists (writers do this too).  For the most part, we're a contentious, pretentious and ultimately insecure lot-- myself certainly included!  When you do encounter fellow artists, whose company you find enjoyable and inspiring, it usually has more to do with them being nice, easy-going people apart from being artists.  The only problem with this sort is their incredible flakiness-- myself less certainly included.  If you actively want to do something artistic and communal, it often involves some degree having of your shit together.  Hate to say it, but friendly, fun, artists who have their shit together are rare. Happy to say, I seem to have found a few on Etsy.  Etsy is many people who enjoy creating things, but have at least enough of their shit together to open a shop for those things.  Connections there are slowly starting to develop.  Wish I could say the same for sales, but I'll have to follow up on this after some littering guerilla marketing.

Finally finished that freakin' hemp water bottle carry
 after fourteen months or so. 

The first and biggest thing is output.  I'm pretty sure I haven't resumed painting yet because I'm not accustom to the level of output that was happening in the weeks prior to the Etsy debut.  I started this blog shortly after I started a plan, which was started shortly after I was laid off from my nine-to-five.  My goal was to create a minimum of ten new paintings, all stylistically honest (as if I had a choice in that) yet generally appealing enough that strangers may wish to purchase and display them.  I'd paint them one after the other, a new painting every one to three days, and make them available to sell online.  It turned out to be a new painting every one to five or six days, but this still seemed like a splendid way to create a sense of things happening while day after day of job searching seemed very much the same.  It was also a new challenge as a painter, and perhaps it'd even bring in a teensy bit of income while seeking my next *sigh* nine-to-five.  It's certainly not much of a business plan (although there is a spreadsheet) and I have no illusions about solely painting for a living.  I wish I could say, "well, not anymore", but even at my most idealistic, I knew that was never going to happen.  Sure, I still dream about it.  But is it ever going to happen?  No.  Is it nice to to know I can create at that pace if I ever achieved some type of in-demand status as a semi-professional painter?  Yes and sorta.  Yes, because... well, yes, it'd be nice to know that.  And sorta, because I haven't really maintained that pace.  Whether that's due lack of immediate positive reinforcement or the fact that I'm just not that type of painter, I can't tell yet.  I probably won't be able to tell until I'm put in a situation where paintings are created, sold, and there's a demand for more.  Is that ever going to happen?  Hard to say.   I hope so.  It would certainly make the next office job I plan/hope (plope?) to get sooner than later much more livable.

While the crochet hooks were handy, I swapped out the hemp for some 32
gauge jeweler's wire and some seed beads to make a crocheted wire bangle.
It's photographed on an aloe vera plant because on Etsy you're supposed to put
the item you're selling with stuff you're not selling to make it "artsie", and to make it
hard for potential customers to tell what they're buying.  It's a stupid way to market
stuff but on Etsy, that's how it's done.

As much as I loathe working in an office (same goes for retail counters, summer camps, and I'd also imagine: classrooms, assembly lines, restaurants and operating tables) I will maintain and work reasonably hard at such forms of employment.  I know, I know, I'm like some sort of  hero-- a hero who will do whatever it takes to not have to live with her parents or a roommate.  Did I say hero?  I meant grammar whore with a BFA and light Photoshopping skills.  Anyway, so long as there is a painting or a novel progressing well outside of office hours, the fluorescent lights, email signature protocol and escape mental patient clients aren't as torturous or soul-sucking as they would be.  A job can only suck your soul if bring too much of it to work.  Bring your soul to work day... nice try!  Not me!  Not all of it at least.  I've tried to make a habit of leaving little bits of mine stashed away here and there.

Mixed a new batch of henna from two-year-old (maybe older) powder. I didn't
allow the paste to sit for long, but it's still not a bad stain for henna from so
long ago.  Looking forward to retuning to my mehndi artist roots this summer
since I don't have to worry about office appropriate just yet.

Granted, I've found most of my adult employment to be mentally and emotionally draining enough that pulling out the brushes, paints, and seeing what happens just isn't worth the trouble if I have to put everything away in an hour so I can get to bed, get up before the sun and go somewhere I hate to do things I hate even more.  I admire those people with dreams, endeavors and hobbies that have a regular and set place after their work hours.  I was one of those people for a while, but eventually it felt more natural to spend that time staring at a wall and hating myself.  Not all of my jobs have started out that way, but they've all ended that way.

The only recent bit of two dimensional art I've done over the past couple weeks.
It's colored pencil on artagain paper.  I got sick of em before I filled in his back leg. 

Expectedly, this sort of nine-to-five, week-to-week lifestyle made for a minimal output of paintings.  During my past life as a project manager and SEO content writer, I probably produced between three and seven paintings a year, excluding novel-inspired pieces and illustrations.  There was virtually no financial motivation or pressure to create them.  The pressure was created from the paintings themselves-- from a creative impulse and need, which seldom overpowered the stare at a wall and hate oneself impulse.  It was simply a quietly nagging voice, stating "I should be painting."  Turns out that voice has gotten a little louder now that I'm not nine-to-fiving it, and regardless of the fact that I've cranked out more paintings in a month than I have in the last couple years.

An unfinished painted egg.  I wanted to do a couple of these in art nouveau
style for an Easter post.  Maybe next year?

So maybe it's time to resume painting the sort of paintings that create their own pressure, and not the sort of paintings that are created from pressures of money, getting-yourself-out-there-ness and marketable acceptability.  Now don't get me wrong, the paintings you've seen still came from an honest place.  I enjoyed painting them, learned from them and got a little closer to teaching through them.  I genuinely hope people enjoy them just as much, if not more than something more "expressive" and less defined.  I have a feeling that no matter what I do, how quickly I produce it, how fast it sells and whether or not the word is spread and to whom, Etsy is probably going to be just as frustrating and I'll eventually need to concern myself with a 401k... again.

If you've noticed the images are of slightly better quality that previous posts,
good job, eagle eye.  It's because of this: A Nikon Coolpix l22.  It was an
imperative purchase for shop photos, especially if I start upping jewelry
and armigurumi production.  This shot was taken with my cell phone, so
you get the idea.

And here's the cell phone I used to take the picture of my camera.  I like red
electronics.  I should post a picture of my coffee grinder to prove it. And yup,
that's a Moonserpent header design mug.

The new camera has been a time-muncher in and off itself, and it's given me  a chance to appreciate my local invertebrate friends on a whole new level. I'll save the blurry shots for painting references. I'm more than happy enough with clear ones that they can stand on their own.  Look at this little guy! 

Well hello, Phidippus audax! Thank you for posing.

And you, Cepaea nemoralis. You may end up in a painting.

Taking A Painting Break with Polymer Clay Fun

While I have plenty of reference photos and a full list of ideas in the ole moleskine, I'm still not back in the painting groove. So last night, I decided to pull out my tin of polymer clay.  I don't use it very often, but when I do, I use it to give new life to old jars.

Here's the frog I completed last night using a jar from those little
sample jams.  I'm using this one to keep the few marbles I have left
to lose.

Covering jar lids is one of my favorite ways to "upcycle".  I've completed quite a few for storing tea bags, sugar, honey, dried pasta, beans, rice, etc.

"But, Rosa, is that safe?" you may ask. To which, I would answer:  Sculpey's website specifies that the pre-baked clay should not come in contact with food prep-surfaces and tools, which is a rule I tend to follow.  The other rule, which I've interpreted as more as a guideline in this case, is that polymer clay should not be used to make items that are meant to hold or serve food.  Both Sculpey and Fimo are certified as non-toxic, but I'm inclined to agree that making bowls or plates from the stuff isn't the best idea.  Jar lids aren't quite the same, in my opinion.  As long as the clay is kept off the inside of the lid, it's not really coming in contact with the edible contents.  I've been using these jars to hold the edible items I've discussed above for years and I've yet to come down with a case of clay poisoning, but that said, I must include a little disclaimer stating that I do so at my own risk and I cannot be held at all accountable if you happen to come down with a case of clay poisoning, or any resulting ailment for that matter.

After all, there are plenty of non-edibles worth keeping in jars-- swearing fees, lockless keys, marbles one has left to lose, so why not make a few?  Here's how I do it.

They were fine peaches.

I select a nice glass jar with a solid metal lid and make sure it's nice and clean. The jar itself isn't as important as a good lid. Polymer clay has to be baked in an oven to harden, so you want to make sure there's no plastic or other materials that would warp or melt when subject to temperatures of over 200°F. Obviously a mason lid wouldn't work as it's comprised of two separate components. Jared fruits and veggies, tomato sauce, peanut butter, honey, jam-- all good sources of metal, screw-top lids and glass jars that will work for this project.

After the jar is secured, all that's needed is some polymer clay, a conventional or toaster oven, and a few basic tools. You can purchase specified sculpting and clay working tools (usually in the same aisle as polymer clay) but I've found that an old X-acto knife and manicure stick are usually the extent of what I need for this sort of project.  A rolling pin helps too, but I only have one of those and it's exclusively for food use.  Any smooth-surface, cylindrical object does the trick, but if you really love working with polymer clay and want to do some fancier blending and rolling in less time, many people opt for a craft-exclusive pasta maker.

An old reed diffuser bottle works for me.

 I start by putting a thin sheet of clay over the jar lid, which is just going to serve as a base layer.  I like to save all my mixed scraps from previous projects and blend them together for this purpose.  The color isn't too much of a concern as the pretty parts will happen later.

Making sure I have a abundant quantity to cover the top and sides
of the lid.

The clay is rolled fairly thin-- roughly the thickness of a
heavy rubber glove.

The clay is smoothed on tight.  I try to press out any air bubbles.  Stubborn ones can be vented by cutting a small hole with the X-acto and pressing the air out.  The hole can then be smoothed over by hand.

This particular lid has a helpful little rim, so it's easy to press
the clay to the very edge.

Once the clay is smoothed and flush over the surface and sides, I carefully run the X-acto knife around the edge to evenly trim the excess.

Based on the type of lid at hand, sometimes some careful rounding is needed. 

You can see where more careful trimming and smoothing is
needed on those lids that lack a base rim compared to the
photo below.

  Once that's done, the fun stuff can begin.  At this point, I start smoothing cuts from canes I've made to create a patterned surface.  Making polymer clay canes can be a whole other project until itself.  That's not to say it's difficult, there's just a technique to it.  You can even purchase pre-made canes, but I don't think they're really worth the price, especially when you can create something totally unique by making your own. It's pretty much just like making sushi.

Few canes in progress here.

I usually start the covering process by wrapping cane cuts around the lid's side.

They're not the most glamorous cuts, but much of this
edge is going to be overlapped with other patterns.

Adding a few "leaves" to smooth around the edge.

A simple teardrop cane can be used to create flower petals.

After enough petals, some full flowers come into bloom.

If I'm creating a design that's not quite as three dimensional as our frog friend at the top, I usually do a basic rolling technique to flatten the polymer when things really start to stack up.  This also serves to smooth the clay and secure the individual cane cuts.

Gently rolling the lid while it's attached the jar here.
Make sure all clay bits are cleared from the rolling
surface or you will work them into your design--
which can work for or against you.

Once the design is smooth, I usually add additional canes and repeat the process until I'm happy with the design or sick of working on it, which often occur simultaneously.  If there's any overlap on the edge, which is sometimes created as a result of spreading the clay during the rolling technique, simply run around the edge with the X-acto knife and trim the excess again.

A time-consuming butterfly wing cane that came out a bit too
large, but the colors should work with this design so I decide
to add it in.

Once the design is completed, the lid is removed from the jar-- taking care not to smudge. The lid is then baked on a foil covered baking sheet in a 250°F oven for half an hour per quarter inch of polymer.

Our little frog friend seems to be enjoying the heat.

After cooling, the polymer is totally hardened and can be
gently hand washed as needed.

Thanks again to every one who followed along.  I hope you enjoyed this little painting break as much as I did.  It'll be back to painting again soon, but I welcome any questions or comments on this project.