WHERE I STAND
The days after my most recent wholesale show, I wrote about how knocked off base I felt, and spoke about changes in my work to come. I received several well-meant but off-base suggestions that infuriated me at first. But they have served their purpose.
The suggestions seem to come from a complete misunderstanding of what the work is that I do, and what my intentions are for it. By assessing where my anger came from and why, I have a better idea what my “changes” will be.
First of all, I don’t consider myself to be a polymer clay artist, especially not a hobby polymer clay artist. I don’t play with the clay and explore new things to do with it. I don’t take workshops, watch videos or take workshops in exciting new techniques and patterns. I don’t follow the latest trends, buy the hottest new tools, or make the newest jewelry designs.
I only use polymer clay to create artifacts—not RECREATE actual artifacts, I might add—that I then use to create assemblages.
I don’t consider myself a jewelry artist, either. My first jury panel suggested I also use the artifacts to make jewelry because they thought the pieces were cool, and would make unusual jewelry. That’s proven to be a good suggestion, and has added to my enjoyment (and my income) by expanding my product line.
I don’t consider myself a sculptor, either, although I make small sculptures out of my larger artifacts. It, too, was a way to expand my product line and appeal to a wider audience.
I consider myself first and foremost, simply an artist. Since I don’t paint, I use the term mixed media artist. I am inspired by the stories I tell about an Ice Age cave and its artwork, and use them as a metaphor for my life as a woman, a wife/mother/daughter/sister/friend, as an artist, and a human being.
The story is about my need to have meaning in my life, a place to stand, a reason to be, to make, to act, to feel my life has value. It is the need to see that my presence in the world has an impact, that it has a power to do good and perhaps even to inspire others to do good.
The story is the need to feel I will be remembered after I am gone, perhaps even longer than in the memory of those who know and love me—although that alone is worthwhile, too.
The story is the poignant realization that we ALL feel this way, and look for ways to make our individual mark on this world.
The story is realizing that part of that impact will not be what HAPPENS to us in life, but how we choose to FACE what happens to us.
The story is about the power of our choices in life.
With this story in my heart, my CHANGES in the months to come are: To bring more of my artifacts as the focus of my wall hangings instead of JUST focusing on the horses (which I used to do, but sort of forgot....) To make more and more wall hangings, and make them as wonderful as I can. To explore a few more ways of telling that story in fiber and mixed media than just wall art. I have some cool ideas already! To make fabulous jewelry, more one-of-a-kind pieces, instead of focusing on simpler, lower-priced production work. To look for the galleries and museums that want to represent this kind of work, and strive for the level of quality, personal vision and perseverance necessary to be attractive to them. To create a more functional on-line wholesale catalog/gallery for those venues. To develop a wider retail audience by promoting the work in more public venues—a small on-line high-end retail gallery for the one-of-a-kind jewelry, for example, solo exhibitions, articles for general audience magazines, etc. To write more.
In other words, to do exactly what I’ve been doing but to do it even more and to do it even better.
If I were a New England landscape oil painter, and that is the work I loved to do, I would focus on developing my personal style and vision. And I would expect to develop that over years of painting and attending to my craft/technique.
No one would expect me to pay much attention to, “Why don’t you paint portraits? Or dogs? People love dogs!” No one would expect me to paint deserts because deserts would sell well in New Mexico. No one would expect me to change my painting style to abstract or surreal. In fact, that focus would be my primary tool for developing an identifiable style and a cohesive body of work.
And that’s what I’m going to focus on this year. Painting the landscape of my own personal, spiritual environment.
The most exciting advice I’ve heard recently was from a friend, glassworker Mark Rosenbaum. You can see Mark's work here: http://www.rosetreeglass.com/artist.html
I’d asked him about William Morris, a contemporary glass artist. (I was asked to provide jewelry for a museum shop in Boise, Idaho to coincide with a show of his work, as the manager felt it was extremely compatible.) You can see examples of his work here: http://www.holstengalleries.com/artists/morris.html
Mark said, “I think that your work will fit well with his. He used to do a series of works based on the same cave drawings as yours! He did a series of "found artifacts" installations like lifesize dinosaur bones. His canopic jars are great also. I hope that this is an opportunity for you to make something that you really have been wanting to but did not think that you had the right audience to view it. You might be surprised!!!!”
Mark also said in a phone conversation that William Morris always created work that was powerful and exactly from his heart, and that I should have the courage to work the same way.
Thank you, Mark. Your words have always stayed with me, and now more than ever, I treasure them.
