etsy and me

I've had an Etsy store for about 9 months now. In that time, I've sold one piece and traded two. This week, about half of my listings expire. In another month, the rest expire.

At least for now, I'm not going to renew the listings. It just hasn't worked like I wanted it to. Someone suggested that my prices were too high, but I see plenty of other stuff on there that's priced similarly. And I'm not going to lower my prices for a particular venue, that's not fair to the other places I have my work, or to me.

It seems to me like Etsy is a great idea that has run amok. There are stores with genuine original pieces of art, but there are many more selling crafty stuff made in an almost mass produced style and priced dirt cheap. I cringe at the thought of using 'bargain' in the same context at 'buying art'.

Pricing art is one of the hardest parts of the business side of art for me. I have increased my prices over time, as I got into more national shows, and as I progressed in my art. But I never undervalued my time--and like it or not, art takes time. Some of that time is spent thinking, problem solving. Some in spent in the mundane, like finishing edges and attaching hanging devices. And materials aren't cheap.

So what's the answer? Fewer sales, I guess. But that's ok. The purchase of art that you live with should involve thought and consideration, and recognition of its value by the price you pay. I'm not saying here that art must be expensive--but it must be valued, both by the artist and by the new owner.

Soon I will be adding the ability to purchase pieces directly from my website. I'm not convinced that will make any difference in sales, but it's worth a try. Just like etsy was.

So if there's something you've been eying on my store, act quickly.

visual language

Lately I've been working through the exercises in Jane Dunnewold (and Claire Benn and Leslie Morgan)'s new book, Finding Your Own Visual Language. One of these exercises involves carving 30 stamps in 30 days.

I used this to explore some shapes that consistently show up in my work, mainly a pointy oval that I see as a kayak shape, but which sometimes morphs into a leaf.

I am now done with the 30 days. I strayed afield on some days, developed some background stamps using similar lines to the other stamps, and discovered that the birds I've been drawing (with pen and with thread) are really the same shape with legs stuck on.



The yellow one in the corner is a rubbing on one of the stamps to see how they work.

To save money and to get something locally, I chose to use Pentel's Hi-Polymer erasers. I got them in a three pack for around $1.50 at WalMart. They measure 1" x 2.5", which was close to the aspect ratio I use on the kayak shape. They carve like butter; I used wood carving tools because that's what I had at hand, but they cut with an XActo knife quite well. I used both sides of the eraser.

So what have I accomplished in this 30 days? I saw the intersection of different icons that appeal to me. I got some cool stamps, some so-so. I reinforced the value of repeating designs with small variations, because sometimes small changes make all the differences. I see this shape everywhere. I experimented in the visual journal I kept of the process with combining different stamps going in different directions.

And where do I go from here? I have more erasers, I'm thinking of doing a series that could be used together in a tray of some sort to make a larger surface to do rubbings on. I'm thinking of doing bigger stamps. And there are more exercises in the book.

Even when I think I've made a stride or two forward in the process of being an artist, it's good to go back to basics once in a while. You never know where they'll take you.

circling around

I've been struggling with a big piece I'm working on. I wanted a large circle on it, and this is the fourth attempt at getting it right.

The first try was with dark blue tulle, machine stitched on. It looked sloppy, and so I removed it, which took more time than the original sewing did.

So I tried fusing it on. The result was stiff, shiny, and still not right. I managed to get most of it back off, although there is a small amount of fusing left on the surface--which meant that I couldn't move subsequent circles much.

The next attempt very nearly worked. I took a piece of polyester sheer and used transfer dye on it to give it some character. Then I cut (freehand) a large circle out of it, carefully pinned it in place, and hand sewed (yep, with an actual needle and thread) it on. I then added some embroidery on the surface. Finally, I hung it up on my design wall to check out what I assumed to be perfection.

The circle was badly flat on one site--looked like the moon a couple of days past full. It was distracting and I couldn't get past it. I even tried waiting overnight and looking at it with fresh eyes. No dice.

So I took it back off--at least hand stitching comes out fast. I managed to cut a better looking circle out of the piece, and it was only slightly smaller. This time I pinned it in place and hung it up before sewing--novel concept, huh? I moved it slightly, and started resewing it. I think this time is going to work. I took advantage of the redo and changed the thread and stitch I used, which I think will make it a better piece in the end.

The thing is, not that long ago I would have tossed this piece aside after the first or second failure. Why the change? Not sure, except that my vision for my work has become clearer in my mind--I know what I want a piece to be, and I'm willing to do what I have to do to get it to that place. The maturation of the artist? Maybe. Growing older and wiser? Well, yes to the first part. Now I'm willing to put the time into a piece to get it. Even if it means fewer pieces produced. The art comes first.

unintended consequences

I don't do figurative work. I just don't. Maybe it's tied up in why I studied botany in college and had no interest in zoology--I would just rather look at plants than animals. Or find more artistic inspiration in them. Or maybe it's more shallow than that, and based on the simple truth that plants hold still while you examine them.

A few days ago I got seven more linen napkins for 25c apiece. I decided to try some shibori techniques on them (without taking the trouble of actually looking up how to do shibori). I pleated and stitched and threw them in a midnight blue dye bath.

The results were ok, but not quite what I thought I would get--which is part of the fun of dyeing. I ironed them, and started playing with them (after all, I had less than $2 invested in the whole bunch, so no down side to messing one up).

One had not very much white space left. It kind of reminded me of trees in a dense woodland, so I took out my tsukineko inks and added some yellows to hint at foliage, a bit of rusty brown for the ground. When it was dry, I hung it on my design wall.



Do you see the men standing there, all in a row? The second vertical line from the left indicates the most prominent one. Men in the woods? They're kind of scary looking. And now that I've seen them, there's no turning back. It's like the spot in the wood paneling of my childhood home, where a face could plainly be seen staring out at me. I couldn't turn away no matter how spooked I got. That problem was solved when my father built a bookcase that happened to cover it.

But what to do with this? Go with the flow and accentuate the figures? Ignore them and let them be a surprise to the viewer? Pass the piece on to someone who likes spooky things? (Ann, it reminds me of your piece that spooks me)...I can't decide.

And so it hangs on my wall, all of them staring at me, waiting for me to decide. The unfinished project, one of the spookiest things of all.

more corn work

In between trying to figure out what big piece to work on next (I have several pieces of fabric in various stages of design hanging on my wall being stared at), I have done a couple more small pieces with the corn stamp.

This one is, sorry for the pun, kind of corny. And too cutesy I think:


Maybe I just had to get it out of my system.

Here's another one, that came out better:



It's a little stark, the difference between the white Shiva Paintstick highlights and the black thread stitching (ala pen and ink), but I'm happy with the piece. It looks like a quick sketch, which is what I was going for.

So in spite of my dithering about the 'big picture', I am making art. Maybe not for the masses, but for myself. The advantage of small pieces is I get them done quickly--and I don't care if one comes out less than I wanted (like the top one), because I have little invested in it--either in time or materials. And if I have been paying attention, I learned something from it. That's enough to make me do more.

More rubbings...

In response to the comment about using Shiva paintsticks to do rubbings over hand carved stamps, I first discussed this technique several months ago. I don't know for sure what led me to do it originally, probably I read something about there being rubbing plates for Shivas and I thought of my stamps.

Here are some other ones I've done, mostly with this stamp:



and the pieces using fabrics treated this way:






As you can see, I especially like using the metallic/iridescent one to add more visual texture to hand dyed fabric (in these cases, silks). I varied the color from place to place, and was pretty casual about where the stamp was placed.

I put the stamp textured side up on my work surface, lay the fabric on top (for the small pieces in the previous post, I actually wrapped the fabric around the stamp to hold it steady), then rubbed. Sometimes I used light pressure, others I pushed harder. Sometimes I switch colors in the middle of the piece.

Usually when I dye fabric, I use low water immersion techniques to maximize the texture, and I almost always put the fabric through more than one dye bath. But it can still come out too plain for me. Using Shivas to rub on an extra texture is a great option to have.

corn fiber (art)

One of my goals for this year is to make 2-3 small works per week (while simultaneously working on larger pieces). I'm a week late in getting started, but here goes with the first idea to explore.

I am ambivalent about corn. For one thing, the monoculture of farmland has all but destroyed the prairies I love. And a case can be made that corn has become too much a part of our diet (check out Michael Pollan's The Omnivore's Dilemma). On the other hand, since my husband works in the corn processing industry, I am dependent on corn for my support. So it seems like a natural subject for an artist to explore.

First thing I did was to carve this stamp out of Blick's E-Z Cut printing blocks. The block has been inked so the pattern shows up. This material is very easy to carve, although it does crumble a bit around the edges. And don't lay it on fine furniture, the plasticizers in one messed up the finish on my dining room table.


For the first prints, I poured some Setacolor transparent paint on a plate and used a roller to ink the block--a traditional printmaking method. I printed it on several scraps with this result:



All of these pictures are keystoned because I shot them on the fly as I was working. In real life, the prints do have straight edges.

I also wanted to try using the block as a rubbing plate with Shiva paintsticks. I have successfully done this in the past, I think it worked here, too.



This method allows more color variations than using a roller. I also tried painting different colors onto the block, but you have to work really fast to prevent it from drying.

So now I have a pile of pieces with this stamp on them. The first one I played with resulted in this:


It has thread stitching, and measures around 5"x7". I like it, but I'm not sure that it really makes any statement about how I feel about corn. Is that because of my wishy-washiness? Or do I just get caught up in the elements of design, the process of making art, that any intended message gets sublimated so much that it no longer exist? Do I care? I think at this point I want to make good art more than I want to make a political statement. So read into the pieces what you will...