Monday again...

I'm sensing a pattern here. Can you feel it? Are your arm hairs standing on end?
So, I busted ass last week to prepare for the islandsfest at Davis Islands and although the organizers were lovely people, and the day , something out of a fairy tale about good weather, The event itself was a little...meh. I'm still learning about outdoor festivals so it was a good teach and I did meet some very cool peeps who had nice things to say about my Sea Dragon Plates and Paintings. I also finally met artist Carolina Cleere who's work I've admired for the past couple of years. I love the dreamlike quality of her mixed media pieces...especially the more disturbing montages. They're like tequila candy with a worm inside and I like that.
I also like that I was able to add a beautiful painting by Julie Jewel to my art collection. Her work is symbolically rich, deeply personal and utterly gorgeous. Go look at her art and read her blog too while you're at it. She'll be showing in Massachussetts soon, so if you're lucky enough to live in the area go see her stuff in person!

Recall above when I mentioned my ass busting session for the islands-fest? Well, it's the latest of many such sessions and I'm sure some of you will relate to the fact that when I have a lot of work to produce I tend to spread out all over the place. Since I share space with my loved ones this activity isn't always gleefully welcomed. I came to a realization this week that people who do not produce art really don't comprehend the process. I was exhausted after "the session" and although I cleaned my ground zero disaster site up, I left another randomnly organized super-fund site on the dining room table. By Sunday, it was causing duress. I certainly had no intention of leaving it there for days but shit... One extra day would have been nice. What I'm getting at is that I feel really drained after a big art attack. I need a little time and space to just shut off from it afterwards. Additionally, it helps me to SEE the things I'm working on. It keeps me motivated. When I have to put everything away and take everything out, over and over it kind of fucks with my flow. I think there's a misconception that because I am gratified by what I do that it isn't hard work. Conversely, I don't want to be unfair about my needs as an artist. I don't really WANT to invade the common space in my home, but not having to travel somewhere to work seems to keep me on track. I'd love to have a dedicated space inside my house, or a shed or something but there's no way that's happening in an apartment with two adults, two cats and a teenager. Then when I talk like this I feel like an ingrate. It's all just so confusing.
There's a real battle going on surrounding all of this right now and I just don't know how to resolve it. The art demands to be in the world.

It. Demands. It.

I have no choice but to submit my will to what it wants...and for this I am told that my "dreams" are making "everyone in the house" uncomfortable.Conversely my peeps can be very supportive; coming to shows giving me the space I need to paint in our small home. I suppose it's the inconsistency that is hard for me to handle. I'm not able to switch the creative flow on and off when it suits people. For years I suppressed the demands of my muse and well, I guess I just can't anymore. I don't know how to keep the peace and do what I'm meant to, fulfill my cosmic obligations. I suppose if I look at the issues more critically they go deeper than a pile of random shit on a table. It's not something I neccesarily want to confront in any real way but sooner or later I suppose avoidance won't be an option anymore.

Busy Existential Beaver.

Oy it's Monday.
Aside from that I've been an exceptionally busy beaver. On April 26th I'll be selling my wares at the Islands Fest on Davis Islands in Tampa. There will be a lot of etsy FEST people there and other fantastic Florida artists as well. Yay! Fun! I plan on bringing lots of crafty swag, sea dragon stuff and tropical themed jewelry. I've listed a bunch of this new stuff at my etsy shop if you'd like to caress it with your eyeballs ...like I said, I'm a busy beaver.
I've also finally updated my Cafe Press store after oh, about a year. I'm really happy about the new stuff I have available there. I especially love the Death Clock. If you're so inclined please sign up for my Cafe Press newsletter mailing list over yonder in the right hand column. You'll also find a link to the shop there.

Aside from the non-stop go-go action of art-making I've been engaged in, I've been immersed in deep thought. Much of it regards formulating new strategies for success as an artist. Formulating those strategies seems to have triggered a pinch of oppositional defiance disorder. As I craft my master plan I start to wonder, when did being an artist mean becoming a grade A ass kisser in order to further your career? I mean, I know Blotto had a song in the 80's entitled "No one ever called Pablo Picasso an Asshole" but they hadn't met me apparently because I have.
The point is, Pablo Picasso was an asshole and still his work is legendary. Now, I neither seek to be legendary or an asshole but I'd be quite gratified with the happy compromise of entirely subsiting on my work without having to be my own personal PR firm. The reason I'm ready to let my little light of misanthropy shine is because all the schmoozing is getting in the way of the volume of work I need to complete.
The work is becoming voluminous because of the self-promotion, therein lies the paradox. I feel like that old commercial about cocaine abuse; "I work hard so I can do more art (cocaine) so I can work harder so I can do more art." Oy. Aren't there any old school art patrons in the house who'd like to bestow a little wiggle room upon a the hardest working woman in art business?
That's an entreaty to the universe dear reader, not you personally. Unless you're outrageously wealthy and want to be my patron of course.