The beat goes on...

Did you ever find a new path and have it feel so right that you start tap dancing in the kitchen?

I've been struggling with my career path for over 20 years. In my 20s, I was so convinced that I would be a Broadway star that I quit school, left my husband, sold my car and moved to New York City. I will never regret the move, but it (obviously) didn't have the outcome I expected.

I've never finished school, which has been a bugaboo for me for years. I've been to graduation ceremonies for my sister's kids and I always felt bummed out afterwards. I already struggle with my feelings of being a failure and that exacerbates it. Not that I'm not proud of my nieces and nephew. I couldn't be prouder. They're all very successful in their respective fields and are wonderful people to boot.

I thought about going back to finish my Bachelor's, but that would require retaking a bunch of classes in order to have enough local credits to graduate. I thought about changing up my degree and going after Fashion Design. I loved (and aced) the one class I took, but the time and coin required to do a full degree on a part-time basis was daunting. Also, there was no real guarantee that I'd end up as a designer. The competition is fierce and I'm twice as old as most of my classmates were.

My husband is set to retire within a few short years. Our household is going to go through a shift soon and it's going to require my picking up the financial slack. It has become increasingly clear that my dramatic and artistic pursuits aren't going to be reliable sources of income. On one hand this breaks my heart, because I enjoy entertaining and creating. I do realize that my style may not have a mainstream audience. I've made peace with that. I've also made peace with the fact that, no matter how talented I am, I may not be what the director is looking for. I'm kind of a niche girl. With a very narrow niche.

What's a girl to do? I don't want to work as a check out girl, even at Target or a craft store because I'll spend more than I make. I had that problem when I worked at Hancock's. That's part of the reason why I have such a large fabric stash. No lie. Employee discounts are a dangerous thing around me.

Well, Let me tell ya a li'l story: When I had my nervous breakdown, part of what brought it on was that I was trying to work in a creative job as costume builder. I was going to use the money I earned to start my design business, Tequila Diamonds. When that fell waaay through, blammo! I had a nervous breakdown. What I needed was a trade.

Now, the notion of massage therapy has been ruminating since high school when we gave each other backrubs in acting class. I was just more focused on the acting. The idea has come and gone over the years. Apparently I’m pretty good at giving massages as many friends have suggested that I do it for a living. It recently came to the fore when my mom gave me a salon gift certificate for the express purpose of getting a massage and the salon didn’t have a therapist on the payroll when I called for the appointment. I thought, “I could do that. I should do that.”

I found a local massage therapy school that not only trains you to work at a spa or salon, but also more clinical aspects of transformative healing. They not only teach Eastern forms, but Western as well, which is more of what I'm interested in, but I can get a broader selection of tools to use and be more prepared for the job market as a result. The best part? They only teach massage therapies. I won't have to take anything not related to being the best therapist I can be. Their application process is rigorous. They aren't just looking for the most students (and their money) like some schools I could mention but won't, they're looking for the right students. I have a couple more steps to get in the door, but so far, things are looking up.

I'm not going to do any acting during this 20 month period of studying, except maybe some short, special appearance gigs. I'm still going to work on my art projects in my free time. There are times when I simply must create. I'm going to continue blogging and field tripping.

But I have to say, as I was researching schools for this path, the site for CenterPoint stood out to me. Everything was up front and honest. When I called, I received a return call within minutes and the follow up was incredibly professional and thorough. I also discovered that there was quite a spectrum of opportunities beyond the salon. In addition, I think I'll receive a host of therapeutic benefits from doing something that really interests me and helps others.

Did I finally find that elusive career? I feel I have. I've been tap dancing in the kitchen for the last few days.

So, Flowerpots, did you find your path yet? Did you settle for your career or did you settle into it? I'll just leave that here for you to ruminate upon...
 

Speaking of "Echt" - Special Mid-Week Edition

I was tidying up the display of objets d'art on my dresser when I noticed this:

Use Echt in a sentence!

I have a little German hat I picked up at a local thrift store. Lo and behold, there's the word "echt" on the label. It's a Genuine Bayerischer Velour Hat! I sometimes wish I was the kind of person who believed in omens and such. This would've been a doozy!

Another project I've been working on (besides the peacock throw in the previous post) is a quilt for my high school friend, Rachel. It started out as a personal project to use up some fabric scraps, but when I posted picks of my progress, she made an offer. I had no intention of selling it originally, though I'd never turn down an offer. I was just trying to use up my stash and try a block method (with diamond-shaped pieces) I'd never tried before. Now that I've done it, I don't know if I'll ever do it again, and if I do, I now know how to fix the things that drove me nuts and how better to cut and sew. Making it however, was strictly seat-o-my-pants style. I really didn't know how it'd turn out. I went blindly forth, hoping that what resulted was good enough. It's also one of only two queen-sized pieces I've ever done. I wasn't sure I'd have enough fabric, but I was fortunate that I had gotten in on a super sale a couple of years ago and bought a whole lot of a few prints. I was also fortunate that Rachel loved it.

Rachel's quilt in our high school colors.

It's totally improvised, totally echt. I'm reading Jane Lynch's memoire, "Happy Accidents", and that's what I have entitled this piece. It may have humble beginnings as a stash buster, but through a series of happy accidents, it's my first sale! What better inspiration?

People also started asking about the peacock quilt. Was it for sale? How much? When I stated the price,  all three offers fell through. I was thinking, "Gee. Did I put too high a price on this?" Then I got nervous. My hands carped up a little (the conversion disorder manifestation) and I couldn't sleep. I've always wanted to sell my work, but I've always been afraid to put a price on my work. This is primarily because I don't typically use patterns. Even when I've done costume design, my renderings (sketches) are more of a guideline than an accurate depiction of what is actually created. I'll go off on a tangent and come up with something different, usually better than what started out.

So, I know I'm not perfect, I enjoy (and make no apologies for) being echt, but how does that translate to value? Good gravy. Like many artists, I tend to undervalue my work and myself. Partly I think this happens because I know majority of my friends aren't made of money. We're all 99%ers. Not that my price was that outrageous. I looked at etsy sites to see comparable items, I based it on that and when I suggested the price to Rachel, she counter-offered...with more. In fact, she offered what I proposed for the peacock quilt. My head is spinning just thinking about it.

Why do artists undervalue themselves? I'm sure at least a little bit is due to low self-esteem. That seems to be the bane of the artist's existence. We also may not keep track of how many hours we're actually putting into a project, so we guesstimate. For me, recording time would be nearly impossible because I generally have my two kids vying for my attention while I'm working. This is getting easier as they get older, but they still want to show me what they've drawn or I need to break up an argument.

As a craftsperson, it's perhaps even harder to price things because what you're making is not only artistic but is utilitarian in nature. It needs to be quality to stand up to use, it should be beautiful, and should be affordable. Why should someone pay $600 for my lovingly made quilt when they can go to Wal-Mart and get a comforter and complete sheet set for $40? You can only make so many gifts for people before you start thinking, "I should make some money for this." Especially if you want it to become your sole source of income.

Firstly, if you purchase something handmade, you will very likely be the only person in the world who's got it. I don't know a whole lot of artists who make the same thing over and over. Some do. They figure out what people seem to like and make a bunch. My dad was an artist with a pencil and a paintbrush. There are originals of his work all across the country. There are also prints of his work, though they are actually rarer than the real thing.

Secondly, artists are trained. They may not have a degree, but they've taken classes, read books, made more than a few failed attempts at something (we all have our share of UFOs - Un Finished Objects - laying around). That's still an education, even if we didn't pay for it (and believe me, in some way, we paid for it!)

Thirdly, we create because we must. If we don't, we don't breathe correctly. We get cranky and depressed. We have nervous breakdowns and develop conversion disorder. Well, maybe not that last bit. That's probably just me. Creating stuff is just who we are. Sometimes artists have other things they can do, like be a dentist or accountant. I'm not one of those people. If I'm not creating, wether a character in a play or a piece of artwork, I'm not living. We should be able to make a living with that which makes us alive.

The ball is in the buyer's court, however. I've found that, unless a piece has a "firm" price, negotiations aren't out of the question, but don't insult the artist, value them. Some artists are willing to barter/trade for services or goods, too, myself included, as long as they are of equal value. Of course, that's between the artist and the consumer, but it can be done.

For example, another friend of mine would've liked the peacock quilt, but she can't afford the tag. What we're going to do instead is, she'll purchase the fabric from my Spoonflower designs and I'll help her with the layout and piecing of her own quilt. (spoonflower.com/tequila_diamonds by the way) When she purchases from my designs, I get credit toward my own purchase, which I'll probably use for samples of my latest designs. Once I've approved them, I can put them up for sale.

So the next time you're walking through the mall and there's a craft show going on, don't automatically dismiss the artist's prices. Talk to them, get to know them, find out if they negotiate. If you really love a piece, it should be worth it to you and it should show that you value the person who created it as well. Something can always be worked out.