Old Year Reflections

Last year was a funny kind of year for me, a good year in many ways but different than I had envisioned it. It was the first year in my life I achieved my dream of making a living by selling my art and teaching. It will take me a little longer to be more comfortable financially, but I count myself pretty lucky for making it through the year without having to get another part-time job, which I did consider several times (I even applied for a job but didn't get it - thank goodness!) Not that there is anything wrong with having a part-time job, but as the year progressed I realized that I can now make more money doing what truly interests me than working other jobs. This has never been true for me before in my life, so I am very happy about that!

Looking back, I see 2015 as a year of "sinking in." The year started off very slowly for me. I went into heavy hibernation mode in the beginning of the year. I ate a lot of grits with cheese and watched a lot of movies. The winter was harsh in Richmond and throughout the United States. I wanted to be more productive with my art, but I felt so unmotivated. I felt guilty and frustrated because now that I had more time than ever to work on my art, I wasn't taking advantage of it in the way I thought I should. Periodically I took art classes in handlettering, mixed-media, screenprinting, and ceramics to help me get into the flow of making stuff again. While I enjoyed the classes, doing so many different things made me feel a bit disjointed. I never had a steady flow of creativity, it was always in fits and starts.

Sgraffito bowls I made in my ceramics class.

Through the year I thought about children's book illustration, listened to Let's Get Busy podcasts (now called All the Wonders) for inspiration, and tried to define my style by doing many experiments but didn't hit on a "solution." In October I attended my regional Society of Children's Books Writers and Illustrators conference. After receiving a portfolio critique from a creative director, I was shaken up. I wanted him to tell me I was ready to illustrate children's books, even though the hodge-podge of illustration in my portfolio said otherwise. Looking back, he gave me some helpful suggestions that I will definitely use, but I decided I will not attend another conference or get a professional critique until I have done some major work on my visual storytelling abilities. I need to put the emphasis on learning and practice rather than results and praise. I will be ready when I am ready. Through the conference, I met and joined a small critique group with a couple of illustrators who live in my area, so now I have a great support system to keep me motivated!

In my fine art world, while I had periods of intense art productivity, I mostly floated through the year. 2014 was intense with starting my notecard wholesale business, but in 2015 I just didn't have the energy to push myself. I got sick four times during the year, which is unusual for me. My body kept sending me the message that it didn't want to be pushed hard at all, in fact it wanted to be nurtured. My hands and body were stiff all the time and I didn't know why. I worried that I was getting some kind of precursor to arthritis in my hands. My body gets a little more cranky in the winter, but usually when warm weather hits I am fine. I tried to do more yoga, but the stiffness persisted even through the warm months. Then, for my birthday in June, my aunt sent me the best gift ever: a set of Zumba dance fitness dvds.

And so I discovered DANCE. I'm not kidding when I say that it changed my life. As this was my first year being a full-time artist, at first I didn't notice how little I was moving around. I have never felt very graceful or coordinated (and I'm extremely shy about dancing in public), but doing Zumba makes me laugh, shake, and feel alive. It's a great reprieve from sitting all day working on art, and I come back from dancing feeling happy and ready to work again. It made me appreciate movement and the many ways the body can express itself. With the addition of drinking fresh ginger tea (which has lots of antioxidants and health benefits), my body felt so much better. I also started bicycling again.

One thing I did do a lot of last year was travel. 

In May I went to New York City to walk the National Stationery Show with my parents and aunt (who own a fabulous gift shop in Rochester, NY called Archimage). As I wrote about in previous posts, starting in 2014 I worked to wholesale my notecards to shops around the country. While I had some success with it, I was very small-potatoes. It was exciting but ultimately exhausting contacting store owners and trying to get sales, to the point that I felt burnt out and wasn't sure if I wanted to run my card business anymore. I didn't know whether I should try to grow or scale back, and it weighed heavily on my mind for many months. My family suggested that I walk the Stationery Show with them to see what the card industry is all about. 

That's my dad, mom, and aunt in the far left.

Great work by Steam Whistle Letterpress and Claudia Pearson.

After walking the show, I observed that while there were some excellent stand-out booths and the cards were of great quality, many looked very similar to me. The art on my cards was much more unique in comparison to most of what I saw, which surprised me. I decided that I don't want to do what everyone else is doing just to make more sales. I want to do what I enjoy and what works for me. I am happy being small-time and niche, and I don't want to get too big because it will take over everything else that I enjoy doing. So it turned out that I am doing just fine after all!

I traveled for a lot of craft shows/vacations last year, including Buffalo and Rochester, NY; Trenton, NJ; Philadelphia, PA; Louisville, KY; and Raleigh, NC; as well as doing a lot of shows locally in Richmond. A few of those shows really sucked for me in terms of sales, which caused me to re-think how many out-of-state shows I want to do in the future. But I beat my all-time sales record three times last year! And the funny thing is that I only made four new prints to sell.

Visiting the glorious mosaics of Isaiah Zagar at Magic Gardens in Philadelphia.

I was able to visit my family in Rochester, NY twice. I usually only visit my family around Christmas. They own a gift store, so holidays are exhausting for them and I am also burnt out from holiday sales. It was wonderful to visit them in August when things are less stressful for everyone and we had more time to hang out.

At beautiful Watkins Glen in upstate NY with my family.

The merry-go-round at Charlotte Beach. Such amazingly-painted creatures!

In late October I traveled to Mexico City to visit my best friend and witness Dia de los Muertos, a holiday that celebrates and honors family and friends who have passed away. It was an awesome trip, and I plan to make a zine about it. I saw so much and it gave me perspective on another culture and myself in unique ways that I am grateful for.

Just one of the many ofrendas, or altars, created by Mexican citizens to honor their deceased loved ones.

In spite of not doing a ton of artwork, I did manage to do a few commissions and donations for others:

I, along with several other local artists,  painted bicycle frames to raise money for the Richmond Cycling Corps and Art 180. It was fun working on a 3-dimensional object. The words on the bike are a poem I wrote called "Ode to Oregon Hill," and they wrap around the bike on both sides.

I created a beer label for Hardywood Brewery. The ale was created and brewed by Justin Anderson. I enjoyed collaborating with Justin and graphic designer DeeDee Hamad to create label imagery that fit the taste and feel of the ale.

A painting I created for a calendar for my parents store, Archimage. Every year they give out a free calendar to their customers and this is the first year they had one custom-designed! I chose the theme of monkeys because 2016 is the Year of the Monkey in the Chinese calendar year. I worked really hard on the painting -going to the zoo and watching videos to draw monkeys, and doing color tests and sketches before even starting the final. 

And I did manage to make a new zine!

So to wrap it all up, when I say that 2015 was all about "sinking in," this is what I mean:
- resting and rejuvenating from the previous year
- learning how to balance myself emotionally and physically as a full-time artist
- learning what my working rhythms are and how to time things
- analyzing my previous accomplishments and building on that infrastructure
- learning how to be happy just doing "enough"

My anxiety level dropped from the previous year and I was able to feel hopeful for myself and not quite as worried as usual (though my normal worried is generally extreme). I let go of many projects I had planned and I made very little new artwork, yet I was still able to support myself. The only downside is that now my head is so crammed full of ideas from last year that I am going crazy wanting to express myself!

I can't say for sure what 2016 will bring, but I know that my energy is different than it was this same time last year. I feel more confident about living as a working artist. I am making a conscious decision not to travel as much this year so I can root myself in creating new work and have a less disruptive schedule. But I will leave a little room for adventures. I mostly want to get the ideas out of my head and into the real world through zines, prints, children's illustration, writing, and whatever comes up. I plan to launch myself into my artwork and follow my bliss, so the word for this year is: EXCITEMENT!

Dear Readers, can you sum up the theme of your last year in a word or two, or a phrase? What do you think 2016 will mean for you? 

I Attended the SCBWI Conference in NYC!

Whoa, it's been over 3 months since I last posted here. Where have I been? Well, I feel like my brain has been floating somewhere above my body, wanting to come home. I got caught up in a whirlwind of trying to sell my notecards, tabling at craft shows, celebrating Christmas with my family, and then starting a second part-time job.

In early February I began getting ready for the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators conference in NYC that I have been thinking about for over a year and that took place at the end of February. Then there were two fires at my apartment and my boyfriend and I had to move out immediately (don't worry, everyone was safe and we hardly lost anything). I almost decided not to go to the conference, but  realized I would be seriously depressed if I didn't go and would not know what direction to take with my illustration. I spent a week packing and moving to a new apartment, then furiously prepared my portfolio, printed promo postcards, and worked on my artwork for the Illustrator's Intensive Workshop that I was to attend before the conference. Our assignment was to depict a scene from Snow White which conveyed a unique perspective on character and setting.

I created a linocut. Here it is in the process of being carved:

In New York, I took the subway to the Grand Hyatt Hotel for the pre-conference Illustrator's Intensive. I was nervous and excited and couldn't really visualize what it would be like. I attended an amazing interview session with Tomie DePaola and Cecelia Yung. Brett Helquist and Paul Zelinsky also gave great lectures. There was a panel review of some illustrations that workshop attendees had submitted. Certain observations surprised me, such as how it wasn't as important how technically-skilled the artist was - what mattered most was whether their image conveyed an authentic sense of character or mood that would make the reader care.

When it was time to have the small group critiques of our Snow White pieces, I hoped my work would hold up a little bit to scrutiny. It did not. I think my reviewer said a few good things at the beginning (I remember her using the word "elegant"), but she said that the characters looked too similar, the scene was too dark and didn't convey a sense of glowing candlelight, the image was hard to read from far away, and it would be nice if there was some color. Another woman in the group had created a woodblock-looking piece that had color but also a strong sense of black-and-white, and my reviewer said that hers was much more successful. She also told me that I am competing with black-and-white greats like Chris Van Allsburg, so my work has to be as good as that.

I took notes on all she said and tried to be objective about it, but left feeling dejected. My reviewer did counter that hers was just one opinion, and every art director would have a different one. Still, I cried later that night. I felt very overwhelmed. I wondered if I was really cut out for children's illustration after all. I felt badly because black-and-white work and linocuts are usually my strong suit, so what did it mean if someone told me I wasn't good enough? Granted, when I compare my finished piece alongside the work-in-progress I can see how the ink filled in some of the white areas I carved, making the printed version look darker than I had intended. I plan to re-work the piece so there is stronger contrast.

The next morning at the conference, Jack Gantos spoke and he was hilarious and awesome. At lunchtime I forced myself to talk to someone because I didn't want my shyness to get the better of me. I talked with a guy I had met the day before, and we looked at his portfolio and then I asked if he would look at mine. Months of anxiety over creating the "perfect" portfolio had resulted in serious procrastination, so I had put my portfolio together at the last-minute using images I already had. From all that had learned so far, I knew my portfolio did not possess the characteristics that were essential to an effective children's book portfolio. But he said I shouldn't be so hard on myself, that I hadn't originally created most of the pieces for the purpose of children's illustration, and that their objectives were different. He was right, and I realized that I wasn't a horrible artist. After that, my mood brightened.

One message that seemed to come up again and again was the fact that every children's book writer and illustrator has to work and revise, work and revise. Fail, fail, and repeat. It all just LOOKS easy once it's in print on the page. All you see is the fruits of the labor. But the real job is actually hard work! It's fun, too, but it's definitely work.

 Here is the eagerly-awaited Picture Book Panel with Arthur Levine, Shadra Strickland, Oliver Jeffers, Marla Frazee, Raul Colon, and Peter Brown.

By the time the 2-day conference was over, I was so inspired by the great community of artists and writers that so strongly desire to reach the world with their art. I want to be part of this community for the rest of my life. This is just the beginning of my journey. I feel a much clearer sense of purpose and I know what I need to do to improve. I also want to get back to the soul of why I'm doing this. I am looking at picture books with a different eye, thinking about how I felt when I was a child and what drew me to the stories and the characters. What made the books that I keep on my bookshelf today such a lasting influence. The conference reminded me that it's all about what we pass on to a younger generation, what we choose to give.

I was SO inspired, that I quit my job a few days after I came home because I wanted to devote myself to creating a new portfolio and a children's book dummy. I felt such a sense of relief that I am getting back to the heart of what's important to me and that I won't have to rush around so much. Of course there are practical concerns that I'm not sure how I'll work out, but for right now I'm not going to think about those. My decision feels right for me now, and if challenges arise I will work them out. Isn't that what artists do - find creative solutions?

So my advice to all creatives out there - just KEEP WORKING!

Threads and Skulls at the Arrowmont School of Art and Craft

Early Saturday morning on August 11th, I boarded a Greyhound bus to Gatlinburg, Tennessee.

I was lucky enough to receive a 50% scholarship from Arrowmont School of Art and Craft to take a week-long workshop in embroidery with Rebecca Ringquist called "Automatic Drawing: From Paper to Cloth." The class description promised a unique approach of combining gestural ways of drawing and embroidering to create layered images. And that we did!

I have taken a few sewing classes before, so I know some basics of sewing clothes from patterns and I have always hand-mended my clothes. However, I have only dabbled a little in embroidery. Textiles fascinate me, but are a whole new world to dive into. I feel grateful to have had the opportunity to get my feet wet with this class.

Set back from the touristy thoroughfares of Gatlinburg, away from the Ripley's Museums and candy shops, Arrowmont is a peaceful and inspiring little world. I felt sad when I had to leave. The school is similar to other artist retreats like Penland, Haystack, and Anderson Ranch (to name a few). You pay for room, board, and workshop tuition and spend a week or longer focusing on one medium of artwork taught by a talented artist-instructor. I felt fortunate to receive a scholarship, but there are other options such as applying for Work-Study (ie. tiring kitchen-duty) or being a Teacher's Assistant which help to alleviate costs.

 I stayed in a dorm-style room which was simple and comfortable.

Three times a day, I and other students shuffled down to the Dining Hall to eat yummy, home-cooked meals. The convenience of this routine and not having to cook made it easy to come back to work in the studios. Our classes were from 9 am to 5 pm Monday through Friday, with an hour and a half lunch break in between. Most students returned to the studios after dinner and sometimes late into the night to continue working. I loved the feeling of having a great studio space and interesting people who were creating things in the same room. It reminded me of my days at Pratt Institute where I was surrounded by other art students.

 

The building our class was held also had a beautiful gallery display of artwork from all the instructors who had taught during the summer. The building also contained a great library and an art supply store.

Our instructor was Rebecca Ringquist. Her work is inspiring to us all. Through her textiles, she "tell[s] love stories and create[s] veiled fractured narratives full of double entendre." Her work is brimming with stitches and layers of color and text. Here are some of her embroidery samples:

 

 

In our class, we created blind contour drawings and patterns.

 

We embroidered using found objects as inspiration. The fiber studio had lovely large tables that were padded so you could stick needles into them and iron right on top of them. Here is some of my embroidery:

  

A cow skull embroidered on a big quilting hoop.

My work space got rather messy.

 

Me!

More skull-inspired embroidery by fellow student Hannah.

Hand and machine-stitched piece by Victoria.

 

Our work on display for the critique on the last day of class. You can see the evolution of my skull piece on the right. I plan to layer and add a lot to this piece, but I don't expect it will be finished for many months! Sadly, I do not have the same amount of time and focus to work on my embroidery right now, but I plan to set aside some regular time to work on it.

Arrowmont offered other opportunities to get inspired. Every night there were slide lectures from resident artists and instructors. We also had a chance to tour studios and see what other people were making.

 

From the studio of resident artist and jeweler Ashley Gilreath. She made beautiful pieces based around the concept of family histories and the importance of honoring genealogy and memory.

 

Fascinating experiments in the papermaking studio.

I plan to make a zine about my full experience at Arrowmont. For now, I'll sum it up by saying it was eye-opening, inspiring, challenging, and invigorating. I am now in love with textile art and I can't wait to explore all that it has to offer. Arrowmont was a refuge of creativity that was invaluable for my growth as an artist. If you are an artist, I highly recommend an experience like this to get away, make art, and be part of an energetic creative community. I am already excited for next year. I don't know where I'll go or what class I'll take, but I know I have to include this as a regular part of my life and artist's practice!

Adventures in New York

In March, I visited my hometown of Rochester, NY and traveled to nearby Buffalo to table at the Buffalo Small Press Book Fair. Here are some pics from the Book Fair:

Me and my friend Rina Drescher  who helped me at my table. She has sold her own poetry chapbooks and art at past fairs but was taking a little break this time.

 

Some cool stuff by Jamie Schilling of Little Beast Press. I bought the screenprinted notebook on the left. Her handmade books were really lovely. I also bought and traded with some other vendors. "The Year of the Bear" by Chad Grohman was a beautifully illustrated fable-like story. Got some nice comics from One Percent Press and a neat mini-comic called "Simple Stuff" by Emily Churco. 

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In Rochester, I visited my sister Olivia's studio (for the first time!)

 Olivia holding an unfinished "sketch" of a figure that she will eventually cast in plaster.

Olivia is an artist who works primarily in figurative sculpture. Her boyfriend Dario Tazzioli is visiting from Italy to have a sculpture show in Rochester in June, and Olivia will be part of a group show at Nazareth College! I'll be sure to post about it when I visit again this summer. For now, see more of Olivia's art here.

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In April I headed up to New York City to take in the museums and table at the Brooklyn Zine Fest.

The breathtaking Hall of Diversity at the Natural History Museum.

The Brooklyn Zine Fest was great - packed with people and full of some great talent. Here is a picture of my friend Katie Haegele of The La-La Theory at the Brooklyn Zine Fest. As an artist and zinester, I think it's amazing that I can meet so many great people through their art. I had ordered some of Katie's zines from Etsy some years ago, and then we met in person when she tabled at the Richmond Zine Fest. I also met Matt and Kseniya, the co-creators of the fest and the zine "I Love Bad Movies," at the Richmond Zine Fest a couple of years ago.

At the Brooklyn Fest, I met many cool people and zine-makers. I picked up a lot of great comics, many by awesome female artists I'd never heard of before. I hope to do a post about comics sometime.

Now some pictures of lovely plants from the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. Such a peaceful place. I enjoyed sitting on the Cherry Esplanade while watching mothers and children play. I also love the conservatory.

And a shot of the Keith Haring exhibit at the Brooklyn Museum of Art. I had been inspired by Keith Haring when I was in high school and college in particular. His bold, symbolic language spoke strongly to me. I read his "Diaries" during that time, but had forgotten until now how prodigious his output and exploration was, especially for someone of his age. While he was still in school at SVA, he would fill his notebooks with art "research," studying the visual and psychological impact of lines and shapes. Also, in contrast to certain street art I find to be annoying and gratuitous, he posted pictures in the subway that had their own symbolic language. His images, while simple, seemed to communicate in a more mysterious way - sometimes joyful, sometimes political, but always full of life and energy.