Previous month:
December 2013

Next month:
February 2014

I was supposed to meet a college friend in the city today, but at the last minute we called it off due to bad weather and the general agreement that it was a stay-at-home kind of day. We'll wait for a spring day when we can wander around the city and catch up.

So Mr. Pom and I stopped at a new cafe to have a cappucino and a croissaint. (Meh. Not wild about it.) Then we (me) wanted to hang out in a bookstore, but short of driving into the city, lower Westchester County only has Barnes and Noble bookstores now, so we want there.

I always head for the illustration and design magazines, such as this beauty:

PRINT Magazine with the 2013 Regional Design Awards for graphic design.

So much eye candy!

I pretended I bought it for the youngest to take back to her last semester of art school, but in reality I am not letting her look at it until I get finished drooling over all the pages.

I have zero graphic design talent but I know what I like:

letterpress
foiled letterpress
hand/chalk lettering
watercolor lettering
lettering lettering lettering
vintage colors
handpainted anything esp -
hand painted backgrounds
vintage fonts
textured/collaged pages
product design that is from soup to nuts - i.e. hangtags to boxed sets

I am also dying to get my hands on this book:

Deb Millman is one of the deans of graphic design. I gave the youngest several of her books for Christmas. I have been waiting for the Christmas bills to buy this one as it is filled with her hand illustrated essays and poems. She is also the designer of the cover of this issue of PRINT and of the illustrations that separate the different regions in the awards sections. You can sign up for emails from PRINT and download a few excerpts from her book here.

PRINT has great online content, also.

Check out The Image of the Day for daily inspiration. Here is one from 12/19/13:

Image of the Day, 12/19/2013: 3D Type Illustrations

By: Ronson Slagle | December 19, 2013

Lauren Hom creates beautiful 3D typographic illustrations from flat sketches and gave some insight into her process on the Daily Dishonesty earlier this year. Via We Love Typography.

Online content also included a blurb about this poster design contest to celebrate America's National Parks. The exhibition will open soon and you can sign up here to get the link to buy the posters. I may have to make a day of it and go up to Hyde Park for the exhibition.

America, Call Home . . .
Aaron Perry-Zucker, creator of the Design for Obama initiative, and the Creative Action Network are launching a new campaign next week: See America. In partnership with the National Parks Conservation Association, they are inviting artists from all 50 states to create a new series of posters, reviving the legacy of the 1930s New Deal arts projects, while celebrating American’s shared natural landmarks and treasured sites. The campaign is launching today, 1/10, with an exhibition at the FDR Presidential Library & Museum in Hyde Park, NY.

See America is a crowdsourced art campaign, enlisting artists from all 50 states to create a collection of artwork celebrating our national parks and other treasured sites. “We’ve got nearly 100 designs so far and once the campaign goes live next week,” Perry-Zucker told me, “anyone will be able to submit their own, and prints of each are available for sale to support the artists. Here are a few and sign to see more here:

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What do I take away from this magazine today? How does it relate to the art and writing projects that I am concentrating on? Normally, this might distract me into a whole new venture - for example - let's learn Illustrator!

Um, no.

This is how my new aim low/underachieve mantra for 2014 works:

instead of putting aside what I am currently working on, spending a lot of money on new fun gadgets, eventually not having the patience to learn how to work or use the new gadgets, and eventually abandoning my project because I've lost the flow of it, I try to take away from this bits and pieces that I can easily incorporate into my current work:

hand-lettered work is HAND LETTERED.
It is not going to look like digital hand/chalk lettering or even digitally-enchanced hand/chalk lettering.
Is my own shaky hand-lettering good enough for my work?
Yes!
I am not aiming to be a graphic designer. I am aiming to develop a hand-lettering style that can complements my watercolor illustrations.
Buying and downloading a program like Illustrator will be 1) expensive; 2) require me to get a laptop with more storage and a desktop monitor; and 3) take months for me to master, especially on my own.
Is any of that necessary for me at this point?
No!
Instead, how about I actually I attend the 2 Skill-Share online classes that I signed up for in late fall, buy a few calligraphy pens/markers, and work from there.

THAT, MY TRIBE, IS AN EXAMPLE OF WHAT I MEAN BY AIM LOW/UNDERACHIEVE

How has your week been? What choices have you made in your creative life that have allowed has facilitated your work, your ability to have find time to work, and the enjoyment of the work you are doing? Let me know!

Posted at 03:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (8)

Finding Your Tribe

January 7, 2014

This is me leading the Parade for the "Year of Aiming Low".

Each day, I log onto Typepad and smile at the variety of comments in reaction to my last post. I have heard from old friends I have not heard from in a very long time; from faithful readers; and from artists who I did not know, but now feel as though I do. .

Thank you, thank you, thank you to each and every one of you who took the time to say, "Me, too!" or "I wish you well!". You are each as dear jewels to me. Isn't it amazing what we will share on blogs that we really do not even tell our families or close friends? As much as a time sucker that social media is, it fills an enormous void in people's lives and allows us crazy creative types to find our tribe.

All of your comments gave me pause for thought and contributed warmth and understanding to a situation where so many of us find ourselves in competition - with ourselves when we find a million reasons to resist just sitting down and making art.

Shirley, Regina, and Lyle all wrote similarly about how even in retirement, they still don't find the time to live the creative life they thought they would. This is one of my biggest fears. I can see it happening as easily as I fritter away a weekend. Think about how we spend our weekends - do we really give up all the chatter and errands and TV and internet in order to have a solid day of working on our passion? As much as I intend to, or say I will, I rarely even spend a half day that way.

Cara wrote that she was crying because I had tapped the feelings she kept locked up inside. I know Cara personally. She is a young mother with an active children, a big family, and an enormous talent. I have seen her sit down, pick up a brush and literally whip out a series of gorgeous paintings. I saw her as a woman with boundless energy and creativity who was overflowing with ideas that she could not accomplish fast enough.

I saw the image Cara hoped to project, but I did not see the pressure she was under. Cara, we need to sit down and draw some pickles.

All your comments were so significant and touching. Whether you shared my feelings, understood my feelings, or just empathized with my feelings, you stood in my shoes and nodded your head and I felt your affirmations.

It's so funny, you know. I was being facetious when I wrote "Aim Low" and "Underachieve" - but I wasn't. It really struck a nerve in a lot of people.

Dear Terry Grant, I love your description of what art is in your life. This is how it used to be for me and where I hope to get back to this year:

I hate to think of art in terms of achievement—under or over. It is a way of living, fitting itself around everything else. It is a refuge from ambition and stress and expectation. You might become very good—even famous, but that is a SIDE issue, not the goal. Be generous with yourself and adjust your expectations, but try not to think of it as "under achieving." Please..

Aiming low and underachieving are words that people have strong reactions to. I know that some of you still felt a little unsettled by it and were quick to reassure me that I am so much more.

So are all of you. We all are.

Aiming Low and Underachieving are not dirty words.

I am suggesting this: Take The Pressure Off Yourself.

Allow yourself to drift a little along in life. Permit yourself to dilly dally, mess around, make puddles of paint, play at crafts that have no purpose other than creating a pretty thing to look at.

Linda H, you have expressed exactly what I have been feeling. The only thing I would add to your list that you didn't summarize is, "make little art gifts for my wonderfully loving and amazingly generous and talented art friends" !:

Loretta, been there done that and wondered how to fix it. Finally I decided I can't be: the perfect watercolorist and the perfect memoirist, and perfect my spanish language skills, and learn french to the point I can join the local French club, and finish that vest I started knitting 3 years ago, and have a home totally free of clutter not only on the surfaces, but in the closets and drawers as well, and hold down a 3-day/week job, and be the perfect friend/family member who sends cards for every birthday/holiday as well as the perfect gifts and entertains and cooks for my friends with recipes I've seen on the Food Network, and keep my car clean and maintained, and take great care of my two cats, including one who is currently suffering from hormonal imbalance, not-so-great kidney function numbers, and a dental abscess, and tile my kitchen backsplash, and keep up with all my home improvements.

And this, my friends, is what I mean by needing to underachieve.

We spend our lives maintaining a life that we do not want to live. The STANDARD OF IMPOSSIBLE PERFECTION is not just about artwork for those of us afflicted with it; it is our approach to life.

And as my dear friend Diane wrote to me,

We attorneys had to be fairly organized and driven (in our own not-necessarily Type A ways) to get our degrees and bar admissions and all, and we operate in a world of hierarchical and fairly rigid views of success and achievement. It's hard to not let that infect our tender brains and hearts.

I don't think that you have to be a lawyer to have those characteristics; Diane and and I just happen to be ones. My dear old editor at Cloth, Paper, Scissors, Cate Prato, has a great blog post about getting over her fear of experimenting in her art journal and not being concerned about it "coming out right".

Dana made me giggle. She is a friend I've actually only meant ... I think once? I live to receive her painted Christmas cards each year. If we did not live at the opposite ends of New York State, I'd probably move into one of the gorgeous artistic rooms she has in her extraordinary house and never leave.

Leave it to Dana to have EXACTLY the same reaction I had to Mim Stella's comment:

"wait, did someone say they took a class on illustrating children's books...I want to do that."

How did Dana know that as soon as read Mim Stella's comment, I had to restrain myself from immediately googling classes on illustrating children's books (I already have several books on the topic...)

Just so you know that I am not just whining about the state of my life, I have started to simplify. I am not teaching at Art Is You this year. It was a very hard decision to make (love you Sal and Ellen), especially since they are going to be right outside Memphis for Art Is You Dixie. I will be at Stamford as a student, though. Can't miss AIY in some form!!

This year as I aim low and underachieve, I am going to spend a lot of time with my husband, kids, and sisters; drink a ton of Starbucks; get an Elliptical machine and torture myself; make a lot of stuff that requires glitter; and bug my friends to get back to regular art dates.

I wish you delightfully the same!

Posted at 09:49 PM | Permalink | Comments (9)

A RESPONSE IN WHICH I EXPLAIN EVERYTHING & NOTHING

January 5, 2014

I received a couple of emails in response to my last post from people who felt I was being derisive and that I've lost the "joie de vivre" that my blog and articles used to have.

Perhaps its true.

Or perhaps I've grown up and out of the innocent first entry into the art world where everything seems possible and nothing is unattainable.

Am I cranky? Sure. Stressed? Sure. So are all of you.

Let me explain my intent in my last post for those who believe that I am abandoning the "Everything is possible if you put a little bit of effort into it every day School of Creativity".

Every mother of her first newborn takes a deep breath when handed this warm, soft, sweet bundle, looks deep into the baby's innocent eyes and says softly, "I will be the best mother in the world. I will never lose my temper. You will never cry; never go hungry; and never eat sugar. You will never be bullied, bully others, watch TV, or play with video games, Barbies, or toy weapons of any kind.

And then one day at breakfast, your adorable, red-cheeked home-schooled 3-year old, looks up from his or her homemade Quinoa and organic blueberries sprinkled with Chia seeds, in a household that makes a Friends School look like the Tet Offensive, and as he takes a big bite out of his rectangle of gluten free toast, holds the long side up and points the short side at you and says, "Look, Mommy, I made a gun. Bang! Bang! You're dead."

Welcome to the world of real life. (And that was a true story.)

No matter how much love you give it, and despite your best intentions, your best education and qualifications, and your unlimited time and energy, you cannot raise a baby in a bubble. Some of us come to this realization after the first child; for some of us it takes multiple births of adorable children who end up with a mind of their own, exhausted parents, and the realization that all you really want is to sleep in one morning and you leave a box of Chocula on the kitchen table and tell the kid to make his own breakfast.

This is the point I am on in my creative journey.

I have counselled others, written articles, and given talks with the subject that you will never get anything creative accomplished if you think that every project will be a masterpiece and lead to anything other than a learning experience. Process and the journey should be your focus, not the end result, nor certainly any benefits that might result due to the end result.

You are all nodding your head in agreement with this. You fully understand this.

But do you?

Cause I certainly didn't.

I thought I understood. Hell, I founded an identity on it. I made it a brand for this blog and for my articles.

But subconsciously, I did not think it applied to me.

Consciously, I understood, embraced, and passed on the message. But when I sat down to work, all I saw were dozens of recalcitrant children pointing toast guns at me. There is the novel that will not progress; the series of unfinished portraits sitting in a drawer; almost-finished art quilts; planners filled with unexecuted ideas; and teetering piles of sketchbooks and journals with barely a dozen pages used in each, and multiple pages ripped out.

Over the past few years, the more intense my "real job" became, the more the stress I put on myself to make my creative life the GOLD STANDARD. The more I felt myself losing ground in my "real job", the more I felt the pressure to make my creative life (i.e. my "true calling") reach the level of UNATTAINABLE PERFECTION.

Each time I sat down to work, a little voice would surface from the deepest, most embarassing depths of my Id that would whisper, "This could be your breakthrough. This could lead to an agent/a gallery/the bestseller list/to quitting your job and doing WHAT YOU WERE PUT ON THIS EARTH TO DO".

Please tell me that at least one of you hears a similar voice. I won't believe you if you tell me you don't - unless, of course, you are actually a working artist or writer who goes into the studio every day and puts in the hours and juggles 20 assignments in order to make a sustainable living. Then you don't hear this voice, or when you do, you know to tell it to SHUT UP.

The rest of us, or at least me, we work under different standards. We do not start or finish anything unless it meets THE STANDARD OF UNATTAINABLE PERFECTION that will lead to the above.

This little voice has more control of me than my mother ever had. It manifests itself by excessive procrastination while I research methods and backgrounds, surf Pinterest and YouTube, order how-to books, new supplies, and rearrange my studio, until I lose interest in it all and go onto The Next Great Idea.

This syndrome is exacerbated by my real job, in which I literally have about one hour a night when I am not ready to fall on my face. I drive home determined to get started on a new chapter of the novel OR an illustrated history of ALL OUR FAMILY VACATIONS (OMG, this could lead to a writing and illustration career a la Maira Kalman!) and when faced wth the enormity of it all, spend my free hour surfing Facebook and falling asleep with a book I haven't read under my arm.

It is a family curse. Trust me. And I have passed it down to some of my progeny.

Because what is the point of any of it if I I don't produce THE PERFECT NOVEL/ILLUSTRATED MEMOIR/ FOLK ART PAINTINGS?

You try sitting down to "play" with some paints or write a first draft with this ridiculous guillotine waiting to cut your paper into shreds?

In 9th grade my English teacher, the to-swoon-over Barry Breen, had me stay after school to tell me he had read my creative writing and given it to a few friends to read and they'd all thought it was "amazing" but he also felt that I was, well, lazy. I wasn't giving it all. I wasn't motivated. I COULD DO BETTER.

I swear to God it's all been downhill from there.

I wish I could tell you that I have the antidote (OMG, I could get a bestseller in the self-help genre out of this blog post alone!!!!), but I haven't. The only motivating factor that has begun to release me from the icy grip of my Inner Critic (you are a failure; a waste of resources; a sham) is the realization that the years are slipping by in a cycle of stress and exhaustion. I am failing to find the work/life balance. It is eating into my sleep, my friendships, and my emotional strength.

So this year: I AIM LOW. This year I UNDERACHIEVE. This year I take baby steps, piddle along, waste a lot of time fooling myself into thinking I am just making drafts and sneaking myself into producing the best of what I can produce at the moment which may not be much but which is SOMETHING.

Let's all aim low. Let's hit the ground walking. Let's go bird by bird (thank you Ms. Lamott).

Let's go for a walk with our walkers and orthopedic shoes and see if by springtime we can make it to the end of the block.

Or perhaps just take a nap.

Posted at 02:16 PM | Permalink | Comments (28)

Watching Woods Fill Up with Snow

January 3, 2014

A snow-induced 3-day weekend is a thing of beauty: white, soft, silver, with infinite hours to fill.

Despite a tempting invitation to get together with old friends, I made the promise to myself and Mr. Pom To Do Nothing.

Nothing except put away the china, silver, and crystal from Christmas Eve dinner. Take the leaves out of the dining room table and put away the extra chairs so we can actually walk in the room. Nothing as in take down the tree and put away the decorations. Nothing as in dig out from boxes, wrapping paper, laundry, dog fur, and an empty fridge.

This morning, the fire is lit and I have command of the big Morris chair set by it.

Others have usurped the sofa.

The youngest is still home from college but she will sleep until after noon, I am sure. I will get my exercise letting the pups in and out in the snow, changing wet pajama pants after each run outside to clean up after them. And there's a brief case bulging on the floor next to me as it's time to play catch up after the holiday time off.

I could do worse than typing up reports by the fire with a steady stream of coffee and random surfing in between for an elliptical machine buy - also time to get rid of the rolls of cookies and cannoli that have appeared arond the midriff.

Spending 3 days inside seems bliss. These won't get read by themselves!

I did finish Home Place. I did not write my Christmas cards. I have the box right here next to me. Wish I could send you all one, but at this point, January 3rd, I'll aim my low and try to get at least one into the mail to an aunt and uncle.