March 16th, 2015
I’m about to show you my feet in this blog post, but it’s for a very good reason. I bought new socks yesterday, and while they are wonderful because of the bright colours and dazzling patterns (just what I like in a sock), I love them even more for the package design.
The brand of sock is HS, a company based in Sweden making exciting high quality combed cotton socks. Their packaging is the same basic concept of all socks, with a tiny plastic hanger, an attachment keeping the toes together, and an attachment binding the paper label to the top of the sock.
Thread used to attach the label to the sock
Tiny sticker at the sock toe
When I was taking the socks apart yesterday I was thrilled to realize they use a small sticker instead of a metal clip or a tiny piece of plastic at the toe. The same goes for the label attachment. The piece of plastic used with other socks has been replaced with thread. I hate these tiny pieces of plastic so much when I buy socks and all the brands seem to have them except HS Socks.
The plastic sock hanger
The socks still have the tiny plastic hanger for retail display purposes, maybe because they haven’t figured out a way around this yet. This is important to me because I don’t want to contribute to more tiny bits of plastic ending up in the environment just for the sake of new socks.
HS socks are a good product on many levels, and my feet are happy wearing them. I can tell these are going to be distracting because look how mesmerizing my feet are in them!
March 12th, 2015
Other than small things for the recent workshop and Creative Mornings, I haven’t made anything new in a couple of weeks. I decided to take a break while I wrapped up a few things for Purely Paper and the exhibition I’m having in Halifax next month. Now that everything is either in a show already or on its way to a gallery, I feel like I can start something new.
Whenever I take a break from making I feel this tension building up inside to get working on something. If I leave the feeling untended to for too long it makes me feel a bit crazy. I think only other artists and makers will understand that.
These are detail photos of the piece I started two days ago. I just want to cut paper and I don’t care right now about what I’m making or what will happen with it when I’m done. I’m tired of working towards shows, and am happy to just do some work, explore ideas, and play.
March 11th, 2015
The other week I was switching things around in my studio and decided to change some of the items I’ve had on my bulletin board for years. It’s a mix of things like invitations for shows, postcards with images I like, and bits of ephemera, leaves, and feathers. Everything has been up so long and unchanged that I’ve ceased to really see them anymore.
Included in these items was a note I’d written in September 2010 during a professional development workshop for artists. We were asked to tell ourselves what we would like to have accomplished in five years. I hadn’t looked at this note in some time, and I was surprised to realize that the full five years had almost passed since writing it. It’s 2015, and the future is now!
I had mixed feelings about reading the note, but overall I felt good. I’ve achieved many of the things I’d hoped for, while others are no longer important. One thing that stuck out from the note was my expressed desire to be working as a full time artist by 2015 and no longer need to work at something else part time. The reason this stuck out more than anything else is because I read this just as I’m starting a new part time job (which I’ve very excited about, by the way…) and shifting gears a bit from art as my full time focus.
Making art is my passion but it’s difficult to make a living at showing and selling (especially in the small Vancouver market). I’ve also found I need more than just art-making to keep me happy and stimulated, hence all the volunteer events I’ve worked on over the past few years. Now I’m at the point where I need the organizing and events to bring in income, because doing things for “the love” doesn’t pay rent and fill bellies with food.
I’m in a period of reassessing and reevaluating many aspects of my life, including how I pursue my art career. I’m allowed to change my mind, and what’s important now may not be five years from now. Finding the note was a good way to check in on how far I’ve come, how things have changed, and also how much I’ve managed to accomplish. But there’s still much to do, and I’ll be writing a new note to my future self to help guide me.