Thursday, December 17
Okay, now the other stuff:
I sat down this week with Mike and my illustrious sister Cindy, who is the Cindy of Cranky Cats fame, to talk about her show booth arrangements and strategies for next year. It's a never-ending process, tweaking that ten by ten space until it's perfect enough, for now. And many of my online friends are buying new supplies and thinking new thoughts and ready to branch out after a holiday season of making, making, making. Making. I made so many things this season that I pulled one piece off the rack at a show and announced "Hey look! This has a sleeve!" (Yes, Helen, very smooth. Very. Smooth.) I forgot that I made a cape with a sleeve. It truly seemed like the first time I'd ever seen that thing.
My own end-of-year Restless Artist Syndrome is taking the form of gutting the studio, and I mean gutting it, and rebuilding it as the space I want for 2016. And that is, somehow: a space for still sewing but also doing other things. If we can manage it I'll have a few stations set up that can be ready for me and Mike to move from medium to medium without first finding things in boxes buried on shelves, somewhere, behind that big thing I found in the hall that I thought I might need some day. I think I've got it pared down to four stations, and if we get rid of enough stuff there might be room! I'm not providing details about what I'm up to yet. That will ruin my fun. I'm all about protecting the fun.
Suffice to say that I, too, have purchased new supplies. While I was writing this I got a call from my building office saying they have a box for me marked "Fragile" that looks a bit roughed up, so should they sign for it? I asked if they could just open it up and see if everything looked okay. They did. Everything's fine. But while doing it she said "It says it's from Blick Art Materials, but maybe someone just re-used a box?" No, it's from Blick, I said. So now every Real Artist in the building knows that I deigned to buy Real Art Supplies. It's like they've seen my underwear. Luckily I'm over 50 and that just doesn't bother me any more, too much. Mostly I enjoy how it has taken my natural mild paranoia and self-deprecating manner and made it into a better joke.
If you make things I hope you've got plans for the upcoming year. No one else is going to give you permission to do what you want and squeeze what's in your head, or up your sleeve, or hidden in your pocket out into the world. That's on you — which is the good news, isn't it? Yes I think so.