This weather!

I don't know about you, but this winter weather is doing me head in. I feel like a hermit! It's too cold to enjoy the snow, the driving conditions are treacherous...

So I've been going down to the shop to work a bit. If I have to be cloistered away, I may as well get something done. Though, if I'm to be frank, the weather has also slowed my creative production as well. I'm very inspired by bright colors and sunshine (luckily we've at least had sunshine - even if it means frigid temperatures).  This led me to think of this scary topic: COLOR!

I know. A lot of people are afraid of color. Silly, you say? Not really. Especially here in my area. Whole neighborhoods are built with beige houses, white carpeting (in Minnesota? Really? Not smart), brown furniture. Even if the furniture is a non-neutral color, it's a muted, muddied, grayed color to make it neutral. Yuck. I would kill for a fainting couch in purple velvet (like Willy Wonka's top coat - Gene Wilder style).

My front door is yellow. Not pale yellow, nor is it tinged with gray or brown. It is YELLOW. I searched and searched for the right, true hue. I finally found it. Of course, I had to put a few coats of primer over the deep pink I originally had. The primer was the color my neighbor liked. She was disappointed when the yellow went up. Luckily, I live in a city where I can do that and I don't have to abide by neighborhood association rules. I know of a woman who kept having her watering can stolen and finally discovered it was the "wrong color". The association president also informed her that she couldn't grow tomatoes because they aren't aesthetically pleasing. Come on, now.

I know a lot of people who only wear neutral colors. It's easier, they say, they don't have to think when they get dressed in the morning. Everything matches.

It's this sort of conformity I've never quite been able to swallow. I doubt I would've been labeled as a non-conformist in school, though as I look back with friends they do say I always did my own thing. I may not have had the purple mohawk, but my friend, Nikki did. I may not have worn bondage pants, but I did wear plaid ones.

I'm not saying you have to go nuts, but why are people afraid of color? We're surrounded by it. Why should we be content with putting on neutral plumage while a cardinal, a gold finch and a blue jay sit on our windowsill? They don't have a choice but to be naturally bright, but we do! Why should we cover ourselves in grey flannel while a cerulean sky and turquoise waters envelop our world? Why be afraid of wearing color? Why is the corporate world so afraid of color? I could never work in a corporate job. I'd wither and die. I also don't think you have to be a dramatic designer or artsy fartsy like I am to be colorful.

For example, I have a blazer I found at a thrift store. It's an Asian brocade in teal, gold and coral. When I wear it, I'm always complimented. "I LOVE what you're wearing!" The compliment is always followed by, "It's really you. But I could never wear it."

When I finally asked a friend why she felt that way, she went on about how she wore neutral colors most of the time and just didn't want to draw unnecessary attention to herself - in case she looked stupid.

I didn't know if I should be insulted or not.

I'm pretty sure I don't look stupid when I'm brightly dressed. In fact, I have an over-abundance of confidence when I do. I'm happy and outgoing. It's when I'm in something dark and/or drab that I pull into myself and feel awkward. Even if someone did think I looked stupid, that's their issue, not mine.

I also don't do it to gain attention. I can do that all on my own. I'm loud, funny, opinionated, smart, and some have even said I'm striking to look at even without all the fun clothes. That came out wrong, but never mind.

It's sort of like when I'm in a show. I don't quite feel my character until I've had my first costume fitting. Then I know how that person is. Costuming is a bit different than real life, of course, but what are your clothes if not the costumes for your life? I'm not saying you have to get all Hallowe'en-y and steampunk-y on a daily basis. That's a heck of a lot of work. But, as I've said previously, even putting on jeans instead of staying in my pjs has made a difference in my productivity. If you want to do costumes, get into a Cosplay group. But in your everyday life, reassess your wardrobe. Do your clothes make you happy? Are you purposely blending in? If so, why?

You have a color assignment, flowerpots. Yes, yes, you do. For the month of March, bring some more color into your world. Put a hyacinth on your desk. Wear purple earrings. Wearing your beige corporate uniform? Fine. But wear cobalt shoes and a print scarf. Instead of simply wearing green or orange on St. Patrick's Day, wear a rainbow. For the love of Judy, be bold. If that's too scary, get a pair of brightly striped socks and wear them under your boots so no one knows they're there but you. For one month, don't worry about wether or not you look "stupid". If someone says that, it's their problem, not yours. You have no control over what people think, that's just a fact of life. You do, however, have absolute control over how you feel about yourself and how you react to those boring, gray people. Surround yourself with Spring and you'll find that proverbial spring in your step.

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.