Learning from mistakes...

One thing I'm realizing about myself is that I can sometimes be oblivious to things that must be obvious to the people around me. It's not that I'm an idiot, really. I just get enthusiastic about something and lose myself in the process, not considering pragmatic details.

I learn best by charging forward, then looking back at my screw-ups. Well, I have always believed that I learn best that way. Should I reconsider? In the early 1990s, I did a group apprenticeship with a potter/sculptor, Pam Sinclair. Each week, she set up a project for our small group to work on. I inevitably did something different, moving into unknown territories. Then the next week, I'd try what the others did the previous week. My projects were less consistent than everyone else at first, and Pam was often frustrated with my out-of-context questions, but by the end of a year I was selling my work in a New Mexico gallery.

With mosaic, as with most of the art forms I've tried, I'm basically self-taught. There has been a lot of trial and error. Over the years, I became more dedicated to mosaic, buying books, joining online forums, taking a few workshops, and now attending an annual conference. Because I'm being paid for my work, I need to meet a high standard for quality and integrity. But every job is different, with new challenges, usually unexpected.

As I mentioned in previous posts, the recent cold spell caused delays with my current project. I was unable to grout in freezing weather, and when it warmed up a bit, it was still cold enough to slow the curing process. I have a certain window of time to work, while Anouk is in school, and lately there have been obligations in the afternoons and on weekends, making it difficult to follow the grouting through the way I should. I've managed to find people to pick her up for me on a couple of these occasions, but the time it bought me wasn't enough.

It was only yesterday, while standing on a tall ladder in the cold and rain with tarps bungied overhead, whipping around me in the wind, I realized that I should have postponed the exterior portion of the installation until spring. Granted, the contract was signed in early September and I thought it would be done by October, but when it became clear that it would be pushed into December, I should have put a hold on it. I was too eager, both to see it through to completion and to get paid.

Yesterday, one of the doctors said the clinic is interested in having me put lettering up on the building to match the vines. I was still on the ladder in the wind and rain at the time. I said that would be great, but I warned him that my pricing will be higher. I explained that I was following though on pricing revisions on the advice of a coach, and had been tracking actual expenses on this job, and would be making appropriate adjustments in future. I added that I would need to wait for better weather, also. He seemed just fine with that.

So, while I may stumble over myself more than most people in order to move forward, each of these little falls teaches me something to do or avoid next time. I am constantly growing as an artist and business owner, and slowly gaining confidence with my work. I can't say enough about the NW mosaic yahoo group I joined a few years ago, as the members are all extremely generous about sharing information, advice and feedback. Whenever I'm stuck, they give me a push (or a pull, or a kick when I deserve it.)

From now on, no exterior architectural mosaic during winter. And I'm cutting back on this whole holiday bazaar frenzy that took so much of my energy this year. It's time to focus my time and work harder and better on mosaic. One step back; a big leap forward. On one hand, I look forward to becoming an expert mosaic artist who has already been through it all and knows exactly what to do. On the other, these challenges keep the work interesting. Besides, I realize there will always be challenges because I will never stop trying new techniques and approaches. That's the nature of the job.

Frozen!

I moved away from Michigan in 1988 for a reason. Well, for several reasons, but one was the frigid cold that dominated at least half the year. When I moved to the Pacific NW, it was like Fall all Winter to me. I didn't mind the Moist Season because it usually hovered around 50 degrees, so I could throw on some gortex and still bike and hike and enjoy the outdoors in relative comfort. Every 3-5 years it seemed we would get some extreme weather in December or January, and most years we would get a day or two of snowfall.

Over the past 5 years, the weather has changed dramatically around here. We've seen more winter storms, and the past two years were marked by incredible floods, high winds, and landslides. We came close to some flooding this year in November, but the rain eased just before the Chehalis River crested. I am definitely grateful for that, but over the past couple of weeks, we have had some of the coldest temperatures I can remember in WA.

I have to admit, the blue skies and sunshine on the glittery, ice-covered landscape is stunning. Along the steep roadsides, incredible ice formations decorate the rock walls. When I pass by a small local lake in the mornings, just as the sun is hitting the water, thick steam swirls up in spooky wisps, looking like a huge crowd of ghosts dancing on the surface.

But this cold is causing me a whole heap of frustration and delay. I've been rushing to meet the deadline for installing this mosaic because the clinic is scheduled to open on the 18th. Last week, I spent two days putting up an exterior mosaic in 35 degree temps. My fingers were swollen with cold and my toes were numb. Luckily, the thinset seems to have cured without problems, which was a concern. I expected it to warm up this week for grouting, but it has only gotten colder, so I haven't been able to finish the work. If the grout freezes, it will compromise the curing process.

Meanwhile, I have 3 glass-on-glass mosaic panels in my studio that were supposed to be installed in the entryway of the clinic by now. On Friday, I started grouting early because I needed to leave for the night in the late afternoon. The cold caused the epoxy grout to cure very slowly, and I was not sure it was ready for me to leave it when I finally had to go. Sure enough, there is a light haze on the glass, so I have been painstakingly buffing each piece with superfine steel wool for the past couple of days, and I'm still not finished buffing the first panel. The third panel is still waiting for grout. I'm worried also that a couple hundred dollars worth of adhesives have frozen in my studio, deeming them unsuitable for use.

Our pipes froze on Monday and we have been having a water shortage ever since, despite wrapping our pipes excessively with heat-tape and insulation. It has become clear that we somehow lost pressure in our water tank, which is something I'll be working on today. No water is always difficult, but is extra problematic when I am responsible for the care and feeding of so many animals. They are all very thirsty. I keep a container filling under my one trickling faucet, and use this source for all of our cleaning and as drinking water for the animals. Water for drinking and cooking comes from the store for now.

It doesn't help that I was really sick with a stomach bug at the beginning of the week, and could barely get myself upright. I'm just now feeling almost normal.

When it gets below freezing, it seems the raccoons become really desperate for food. Last year, we had a cold spell and lost 8 chickens and 9 ducks in two weeks to raccoons. They were ambushing during the day, when the birds are free-ranging. We have interrupted a raccoon attack on our turkeys each of the past two nights. The first night, one managed to bust through the chicken wire near the top of the coop. Last night, it reached through the wire, got hold of a turkey, and chewed on its shoulder before we got there. The turkey had managed to escape from the raccoon's grasp, and had somehow climbed the wall and wedged itself in a corner of the ceiling, using its wings to brace itself there with its feet holding onto the chicken wire. She is wounded, but recovering.

Beyond these major inconveniences, there are the small annoyances. The coop doors are frozen shut, the car won't warm up in the morning, Mike had to drive to work two mornings with no heat at all (45 miles!), the eggs are frozen when I get to them, and I'm having a hard time keeping the house above 60 degrees.

All of this typing served mainly to postpone going back outside to solve these issues. I have to repressurize the water tank (wish me luck!) and try to make the turkey coop more secure. All I can say is that, despite the sunshine and absolutely stunning surroundings, I am longing for the good old days of incessant drizzle that used to be the bane of December and January.

But, I realize that we can count on our weather just getting stranger and more unpredictable in future years. I guess I just need to suck it up and be more prepared. And I'll try to enjoy the sun while it shines on the glistening ice-covered hills.

When you love your job, is it still work?

Working as an artist can feel socially weird, sort of in the same way as being a stay-at-home parent. That said, it was with great enthusiasm that I finally switched from saying "I'm a stay at home mom," to saying, "I'm an Artist," when asked. Still, that statement is usually met with a skeptical expression. People usually ask, "What do you paint?" I give a quick explanation of my work, then change the subject.

I'd say about one out of every 10 strangers I talk to responds with a slightly bitter, "How nice for you." And, it is very nice that I have been able to generate work for myself doing something creative and fulfilling. It is very nice that I am in a relationship with someone who can support us while I take this chance, and who believes that it is the best option for all of us. Several times a year, I ask, "Should I get a real job?" We have looked at the pros and cons, and the fact is, all of our lives would be negatively affected if I went to work for an employer. We might be able to buy new sheets or winter coats when we need them, sure, and it wouldn't be such a crazy idea for us to take a 10-day trip to Spain this winter. But, I would have to switch Anouk to the larger school so that she could catch the bus each morning, and she would have to go to daycare every afternoon, and much of my income would be paying for that. We would have to greatly reduce the amount of food we grow, sell the goats, and rely more on electric heat because I couldn't keep up with our wood supply. When Anouk is sick, I can keep her home without risk to my job security, and I spend a portion of each day just taking care of our home. So, as long as we can get by on Mike's income and what little I make, it just works out best for all of us.

I do sometimes feel like I am not considered to be "working". I'm not sure how much of this is my own complex, and how much comes from other people's attitudes. It is often seen as me having a fun hobby that earns me a little side money. Yes, I do enjoy my work most of the time, but man, it can be grueling! I stand on cement all day in a cold, studio. My hands get sore and stiff from repetitive motion and gripping. I often have to wear a wrist brace because my tendons become strained. My fingers are always covered in small cuts and stained from adhesives. During a large installation, I often work long hours in uncomfortable circumstances. For the past two days, for instance, I've been working in near-freezing temperatures with numb fingers and toes.

But that Pediatric Clinic has been transformed by a simple glass mosaic vine climbing the pillars that frame the entryway. I step back at the end of it all to get the full effect, and it is just lovely. Without my work, it would be a plain, stuccoed building like every other medical building on that street. Now, it stands apart and welcomes patients with a promise of a fun, cheerful interior. I love that feeling. I love when the doctors pop down to see my progress and they are SO happy!

My work makes people happy and I do love doing it. But it feels like work.

At a "Business of Art" workshop (by Pam Corwin - look into it if you are doing this kind of work) I asked the panel of wholesale artists if it is difficult to make the same item over and over, sometimes hundreds of times, and does it then feel less like fun and more like work? They all said, in different ways, that they can either use their innate talents to fill wholesale orders, sometimes working late into the night to meet a deadline - or they can go get a job, maybe in an office or waiting tables, on someone else's schedule and according to someone else's rules. It can be even harder work to labor tirelessly on art that you feel passionately about, that is part of you, and that is your only source of income, than to clock in at a job that you don't care so much about and that you can walk away from at the end of a day. Ultimately, it just depends on how you want to spend your time and how much risk you are willing and able to take.

Now, off to my other job; being a mom.

More thoughts on meat...

While dismantling a chicking this morning, I was thinking about our transition to eating meat. Mike was a strict vegetarian until about 3 years ago. He was the kind of snobby vegetarian who would throw a fit in an Asian restaurant if he found out that the delicious soup he had just eaten was made with chicken broth, and who only ate gelatin-free yogurt and rennet-free cheese. I was a "flexitarian" who would occasionally eat meat in a situation where all other choices were unappetizing, especially in other cultural contexts. Our first trip to Europe was miserable for Mike. There was virtually nothing he could eat. To them, "vegetarian" meant that meat was not the main focus of the meal, or that it contained vegetables.

I began adding small amounts of meat to my diet more deliberately after finally seeing a naturopath about my tendency to black out on an almost daily basis. I had come to accept this condition as part of life, thinking it was probably a residual side-effect of semi-starving myself for 8 years as a young woman. My naturopath discovered that I was low on a kind of iron that we build in our childhood, and it comes only from meat (I hated meat as a kid). When I began to include trace amounts of meat into my diet (at first, I just drank a small cup of broth each day) the black-outs disappeared. I no longer experience the dips in my energy that I did before.

We had both chosen our levels of vegetarianism based on environmental, animal rights, and health issues. Raising our own livestock solved all of these questions, except when it comes to actually killing your meat. This part is still hard to accept, but it has become a very small part of our lives. When you raise animals at all, death becomes a part of your reality. We do our best to protect our chickens, ducks and turkeys from raccoons, but we lose quite a few each year to those ninjas. I find feathers everywhere, body parts strewn about, and I can't help but imagine the terrifying experience of that bird as it was chased and dragged to its death. We lose far more animals to this predatory demise than to our, relatively, more humane methods.

Last year, we lost over half of our chickens and a whole flock of runner ducks to predators. One of our goats became ill and died, another goat got his head stuck under the manger and broke his own neck, and our two longtime canine companions both died - one of old age and the other from the sudden development of Addison's Disease. Compared to the abundance of unexpected deaths we had to process on our farm over the last year, the one afternoon that we quickly dispatched 5 of our turkeys seemed, well, not quite so awful.

To some extent, it probably sounds like I'm trying to rationalize our meat consumption. This morning, I was doing one of my least favorite chores. After we roast a bird and eat most of the meat, I boil it to make broth and strip all of the rest of the meat from the bones. I find it really disgusting. But today, I realized that I was a bit less grossed out than in the past. I was aware of how the tendons connected, the structure of the bird, and less sensitive to the fact that I was handling the flesh of an animal. I guess I'm becoming desensitized.

The fact is, we still eat far less meat than most Americans, and I think it is plenty. We bought 10 organic, free-range chickens from Barnyard Gardens this fall and kept two of our butchered turkeys. These will last the year. Each time we pull one from the freezer, we have one special meal, some leftovers, and then broth for soup. Poultry raised on our small farms does not deplete resources the way factory farms do, they contribute organic matter for our gardens rather than adding devastating amounts of untreated sewage into the environment, they live happy and healthy lives, they are killed as humanely as possible, and we eat meat that we know is free of hormones and chemicals, and is actually far more nutritious than store-bought meat. (That's because our birds eat bugs and slugs and weeds and vegetable scraps.)

Vegetarianism is perfectly sustainable, as long as people are good at balancing meals, and making sure they choose organic, non-GMO sources. For those who choose to eat meat, I encourage everyone to avoid factory-farmed meats of any kind. The conditions are nightmarish, the environmental cost is not factored into the lower price (nor are the tax subsidies), and it is an inefficient way to grow food. With growing concern about food shortages throughout the world, we really need to eat sustainably. The population is growing, biodiversity is diminishing, and food scarcity is a reality in many places, and spreading.

Read Jane Goodall's "Harvest for Hope." The first chapter is pretty depressing, but she does offer success stories and ideas for action later in the book.

Creating Thanksgiving Tradition

I have fond memories of Thanksgivings from my childhood, piling into the car and driving to my Grandma's house, which would be filled with the same familiar smells each year. My Grandma was (still is) a simple woman who survived on potato chips and processed meats, but on Thanksgiving, she made a fantastic, home-cooked meal. My uncle, aunts and cousins would be there, the parade would be on T.V., the adults started imbibing early and were giddy all day. After dinner, they played poker while the kids swiped as much dessert as we could manage. My strongest impression from those Thanksgivings is a house filled with laughter.

Now, I live far from family, and they all live far from each other. My cousins are distributed as far as Japan, and my Grandma has descended into deep dementia. For many years, Thanksgiving was almost a non-holiday for me, just a day that the stores were closed. While in relationships, I joined with my boyfriends' family, which was always pleasant. When I was single, there were sometimes potlucks with friends. I tried to create a tradition of forcing people to watch "Trail of Tears" or other documentaries about the history of Native American subjugation. "Life-of-the-Party", I think they called me.

When Anouk was born, I felt more nostalgia for those childhood memories, and it has been important to me to create a tradition based on family and extended family, along with an emphasis on food (growing our own, understanding agricultural politics, appreciating how we are connected to the earth through our food.) Unfortunately, our friends usually have plans with their own extended families, so it is just us three, and my dad usually makes an appearance.

Added to the challenge is the fact that I have always been an abysmal cook. I don't enjoy cooking, and have resented the fact that this part of Thanksgiving was considered my responsibility. I served very mediocre vegetarian Thanksgiving dinners for many years, so my dad got in the habit of stopping by, making his appearance, then heading to join with friends eating more savory and meat-centered meals, probably with much more festivity. Then Mike, Anouk and I would head to the movies.

The past two years have improved. Our more successful efforts at growing our own food, along with raising our own turkeys, has helped to define our family's tradition. This meal involves food that we have been intensely involved with from cultivation through harvest and preservation. I believe our appreciation for the food is heightened by that relationship, especially when it comes to the turkey. When you nurture a living creature and kill it yourself, the weight of that life feels significant, maybe profound.

Mike cooked last year's meal, and he did a far better job of it than I ever have. So, he is doing it again today. He has brined the turkey overnight and is preparing it for the oven right now. I harvested some carrots, took string beans out of the freezer, and cooked a LOT of pumpkin this past week. He's mashing our own potatoes, but he also bought a bag of groceries to add to the meal; sweet potatoes, parsnips, celery, onions and some spices. This morning I got up and made desserts (all pumpkin) and now I'm off to work in the studio. I plan to make some time to play games with Anouk later.

I still feel like this is a dull holiday for Anouk. She is aware that we are having a special meal and honoring our food today, but she has to make her own fun. We pulled out the boxes of Christmas decorations, books and videos, and she has been watching Frosty the Snowman, coloring in her Xmas activity books, pulling out our stockings. Today marks the beginning of the Holidays, a month or more of decorating, buying gifts, vacation and celebration that helps us get through the dreary wintertime.

It would be great if we could join with another family to bring more festivity to our tradition, but this is where we are right now. Far from family, but happily enjoying each other, our land, and our harvest.

New Artist Identity

A couple of weeks ago, I had an epiphany regarding my business. For years, I've been trying to market myself as an architectural mosaic artist, dropping off pamphlets and portfolios with designers and sending emails to architects. While having lunch with the the other two artists involved in the enhancement of this new pediatric office, the more experienced of the three of us mentioned that the name of your business is of utmost importance when addressing architects. Apparently, they can be incredibly picky on this point. She explained that she shifted from a more casual, fun name to her actual name in order to put give a stronger impression with architects.

Immediately after this lunch, I had a meeting with a business advisor who drove the point home. She said no architect would even consider hiring "Cosmic Blue Monkey" for a commission, despite the quality of my work. This was shocking news to me, so I set to work right away figuring out how to reinvent my business in order to get paid actual income for my hard labor. I finally came up with JK Architectural and Fine Art Mosaic, and I have created a temporary website to go with it.

It is suddenly very clear to me that this is an extremely important step for me as an artist, and the time is right. For many years, I have enjoyed making little, functional items for festivals and holiday bazaars, but the profit margin on these things is nonexistent. They are so very labor intensive that I spend hours working on things that I can only get $30 for in this tight market, and after overhead, that pretty much comes out negative. My focus on recycling may be noble, but it won't put food on our table, and I now have a studio chock full of trash that I hope to make into something of quality, someday. I need to narrow my focus. It is time to stop mosaicking every jelly and mayo jar we use, stop soaking labels off of beer bottles thinking I'll find a use for them, stop saving milk cartons and laundry soap jugs. Then I will have more room to store the cupboard doors that I use for mosaic panels, the many containers of glass scrap, and really useful pieces of cement board and wedi for good quality mosaic panels.

I feel like such a grown up!

While I can't stop making things, and will certainly continue to crochet, sew and print during my "relaxation time", it is time to let go of that as a potential income generator. If I had found THE product that everyone loves, and had felt inclined to make that thing over and over, it would have worked out great. But the thing I love to make, and the thing I'm best at, is mosaic art that enhances spaces in a way that is functional and also decorative. For me, nothing brings things to life like mosaic, and I see potential for it everywhere.

I'm not ready to let go of Cosmic Blue Monkey Designs. I spent half the summer mosaicing a big sign for my studio, which isn't going anywhere. But I hope JK Architectural and Fine Art Mosaic will come to be known as one of the best sources for creative home and business accents on the West Coast, that I will be sought out for restaurants and courtyards and entryways and window treatments and , and, and....

See: http://www.jkmosaic.yolasite.com/

Michael Specter - Denialistic?

I listen to NPR in my studio each day while I'm working. It keeps me informed, inspired, and incensed. Yesterday, I heard that author Michael Specter would be interviewed about his new book, "Denialism; How Irrational Thinking Hinders Scientific Progress, Harms the Planet, and Threatens Our Lives." This sounded very compelling, as I am so stymied by mainstream denial of things like climate change, poverty, injustice, health care issues, nutrition, and problems associated with our current agricultural methods. I expected Mr. Specter to give everyone a good lashing.

Instead, he denounced any relationship between immunizations and autism, made a stink about people who take vitamins, and stated that we might solve world hunger by embracing genetically modified foods and reducing emphasis on organic farming.

Now, it has been six years and I have gotten rid of all of my "Immunization Research" file, but when Anouk was born, I read extensively about vaccinations. It is a very emotional subject when you are trying to make the best decision for the health of your child. I recall that every study I read was funded all or in part by an Autism research organization or pharmaceutical companies or insurance companies. Depending on funding sources, conclusions varied dramatically, so it was important to read through it carefully. Most compelling to me were papers and articles explaining how immunizations work when they enter the body, and that there are inherent, measured neurological effects. I found an excellent pediatrician who is informed on both sides of the issue, who took time to help me with this huge decision, and we worked out a vaccination schedule that I feel good about. My daughter is immunized against the major diseases (not chicken pox) and will be protected when we travel to other countries, but she was never administered a "cocktail" where they give up to 5 shots at the same time. Her doctor's main argument is that he sees far more children getting diseases from lack of immunization than children who have been affected by Autism. So, it's a crap shoot, but parents are usually making this choice after serious research, not out of deliberate ignorance.

As for vitamins, who cares? Maybe they help, maybe they don't. I personally believe that we have far better results from eating a good diet, so I rarely take supplements. My husband takes a handful of vitamins every day, and has been seeing his cholesterol improve steadily with no other lifestyle change. If he thinks it helps, I support it.

Now, the organic food question is one that gets me all steamed up. I'm no expert, but from all that I've read and heard (on NPR, of course), our stupid agricultural methods are part of what has gotten us into this mess to begin with. More and more food is grown on high-production farms, using pesticides, sold for bottom dollar. Scientists believe it is a contributing factor to the loss of about 1/3 of our commercial bee population, which then results in lower crop yield, and we are anticipating future decreases in food supply from bee shortages alone. Pesticide run-off enters our water systems, causing environmental degradation and affecting the fish we have also relied on for food. Food can be grown locally, in people's yards, on rooftops, in raised beds - I even heard about a CSA in New York where the food is grown in a truck bed. Small, organic, community farms are being cultivated in some poverty stricken areas, providing good food for the local people. (I heard about it on NPR!) Michael Specter's suggestion that we create synthetic foods with little inherent nutritional value (I believe they add vitamins) to feed to poor people strikes me as very "Soilent Green."

When a caller questioned the author on this topic, he started talking again about genetically modified foods solving the hunger problem, rather than answering her question, which gave me the impression that he has not fully researched this topic. I think he has an opinion and he's sticking to it. That's denialism, buddy.

While genetically modified food is not necessarily the same as non-organic food, I recall reading an article that explained how one affects the other. An example described two adjacent farms, both growing corn, one genetically modified to resist a pesticide and the other organic. By creating a corn variety that is not killed by this pesticide, they can spray it liberally by plane, killing the weed or bug or whatever they are trying to eliminate, but not hurting the corn. But, the pesticide doesn't just go away. The nearby organic farm gets a good dose of the spray by proximity, which takes out a portion of their non-resistant crop. The pesticide also enters the water table, so everyone else in the neighborhood gets to drink it, water their crops with it, and wildlife get their share as well.

So, obviously, I am not a scientist or an expert of any kind, and I'm writing this from memory without siting sources. But, I swear, the original sources were reliable. For Michael Specter to claim that everyone who reads the same information, yet does not draw conclusions in agreement with his own, is in denial seems superbly arrogant.

Now, if he had just made statements that I agree with, I'd say he was right on the money!