Brain Dump. November 2021

I feel like I am struggling to find myself artistically 

I think I have imposter syndrome. 

I don't feel like I have a voice worthy of saying anything in the art world because I come from a privileged background and I've never had to suffer through any severe hardship. 

I've had trauma and depression which is hard but I didn't grow up in poverty, I wasn't physically abused, I don't have anything traumatic my life in that way and somehow I feel that that makes me less valid than other people. I have fewer things to say, I almost feel like my opinion is not worthy of being heard.

I don't know if this is a response to me not being happy where I am artistically, I don't know if this is overthinking things and making reasons to just not "put my work out there" or make my own conceptual pieces. It's almost like I'm frightened. Whenever I think about making pieces I think about the reactions people would have to them, often that is enough to just put me off making it completely. As you can imagine this is maybe a little bit of a setback for an artist. It doesn't help that the last two years have been entirely focused on trying to stay afloat, trying to make enough glass to fulfil orders (I am grateful to have those orders) I'm trying to sell work to pay the bills throughout the pandemic. We are doing well financially now but we weren't for some time, especially in the first lockdown.

I was rejected for funding but was able to get a small discretionary grant which enabled me to basically pay my rent and not much else. I'm just lucky that I had some savings that I could bail myself out with.

This last year I've also questioned a lot if this is what I want to do or not. My life would have been easier if I just went to work for someone else, came home and then did creative things as a hobby instead of my career. My inspiration for making has just bombed. I've just sat and looked at blank pages in my sketchbook. All of my paints have dried up which I only discovered recently because it has been so long since I painted anything.

I have bought myself some new paints now because that made me incredibly sad. I used to want to create all the time and all I want to do right now is survive... I am seeing the light at the end of a tunnel, it just seems like it's a very long way away.

It doesn't help that we are rapidly approaching Christmas and I I'm not particularly happy around this time of year.

I know I'm gonna get called Scrooge or Humbug but I don't enjoy Christmas. I don't enjoy the run-up to Christmas, I don't enjoy the vast amounts of consumerism and I'm at the juxtaposition of relying on some of that for a portion of my income every year so I feel like a hypocrite. I also reluctantly partake in the mass consumerism every year although I try to source thoughtful gifts rather than just purchasing cheap things which were made in China and shipped to the UK.

Brexit has also made it difficult to post things or import things currently. Our docks are so busy and clogged up because of Covid restrictions and god knows however many rules there are now for importing things and shipping things. 

So yeah, it's a weird time. I'm wondering when the weirdness will settle down a bit and the UK might have a chance to heal again. 

When I might have a chance to breathe again... 

I'm near the end of orders now. So close! Just a few things left to coldwork and ship.

Then I can start on people's custom orders, as opposed to shops orders. 

Just keep swimming...

    

Open Day

The first open day at the studio (which will eventually be mine) where I had a showcase of my own work.

It happened yesterday. I spent the week stressing myself out, coldworking the things I was able to coldwork and sanding/painting and “filler-ing” my upcycled display cabinet and obviously trying to make a shed load of glass to go in it.  I was getting up at 7 and working before going to work then going straight to the garage-studio in the evenings to coldwork. Many things did not get completed because I was too tired to concentrate properly and I don’t yet have the array of coldworking facilities which I need to finish everything to the standard I want. I have lots of “work in progress”

I was so fatigued by the start of the day that I barely remembered it and quite frankly was not a good conversationalist when there were many, many people all trying to talk to me at once. The people are lovely and for the most part encouraging.

I hope I didn’t just stare vacantly in their direction and nod and smile…

I just slept for 13 hours straight and am still tired. Apparently I did not handle this well.

A few things happened, some of which surprised me and some of which disheartened me. I feel egotistical saying this but I didn’t sell much of my work and I found this surprising. Maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised because Richard has announced that he will be retiring from glassmaking in the next couple of years so his collectors are obviously going to try to get what they can whilst he is still making. Not that this makes me feel any better when I look at my sales.

The upside is that I now have a permanent display at the Station and it is currently nicely stocked with things. Silver-lining, right?

The more disheartening thing happened when we were pricing some of my pieces in the morning. (Yes I know it was last minute but hey I am an artist so I am useless at linear thinking) There was a friend and collector staying with my boss and his wife who was helping out with the open day, I asked his opinion on pricing for some of my solid-sculpted pieces. I realise that solid-sculpting is not to everyone’s taste and is by no means a traditional method of making in the UK. It clearly was not to his taste because he suggested the price tag of £60 for something which had taken me almost three hours to make. He must have seen my face drop because he rapidly suggested I upped it to £75… I imagine my face probably frowned. I made him hold the piece and the realisation of just how heavy it was dawned on him, his estimate only just covered the cost of the glass and the gas used to heat it, not even covering the assistants wages. I think it then registered with him that he might have offended me just a little.

I had valued his opinion in the past because he is a longstanding glass collector who is meticulous in his arrangement and display of his collection. His house is like a museum. Full of traditionally made beautiful pieces of glass. I still value his opinion but will not be asking for it on any solid-sculpted pieces. The closest thing to solid-sculpting he has in his collection is a paperweight or two. He clearly places a higher value on the blown pieces which he obviously enjoys.

This was one step in a steep learning curve for me. Richards collectors love his work, my own style of work is very different and that showed in sales. I will not be changing my style of work (because if I just copy Richards style that defeats the object, doesn’t it?) but will be changing where I choose to market it.  I think my solid sculpted pieces probably belong in a gallery setting where the right audience will see them.

I was also told that one of my sculptures was “horrible”.  The reason being that it was a bunny body with a large skull for a face and big floppy ears. I enjoy mixing the cute with the macabre. Many people think I should stick to the cute. I like the macabre too much to stay away from it. I realise it’s an acquired taste but the market is out there. It probably doesn’t exist amongst most middle-aged glass collectors though. Several people have suggested Whitby as a good place to show my work.

I feel I need a trip to Whitby to meet some of “my people” and have a break for a while. 

 My display cabinet before and after

Fully stocked, bit dark as we hadn't opened the blinds yet

Ocean sculptures and paperweights

 Underwater volcano sculptural light

 Everyone needs icecream cone sheep in their life right?

 New small display advertising my Memorial Ashes Paperweight range

My horrible bunny skull sculpture. His name is Bernard. I love him.

New Tyres

So I'm sat at a garage waiting in the mechanic to fit the two new tyres that I need. I have a nail in one and a bulge in the other.
This may seen like a strange start to an arty-type blog post but bear with me.

I have recently begun the slow transfer of ownership of a glass blowing business and studio. It will happen over the next two years. I now don't get paid to be there and my main income is from selling my own work through the gallery area. I work there in exchange for studio time and pay towards the gas and cullet.
Just before this arrangement began (when I had paid work for four days a week) I had such a hard time dealing with a colleague at another studio that we refused to work with each other from then on. I had worked with this person for two and a half years and dealt with a lot of unnecessary s**t from them.
This meant that I lost two of the paid days a week I had which was going to be my financial stability whilst I started up my business. It couldn't have happened at a worse time for me.
I've had to take a heavy hit to my spending habits, social life, petrol consumption and what I eat and where I shop for it.
Everything has to be saved for and every time I begin to relax a little because I have some money in the bank something comes along and drains my bank balance. Like my car.
I've started selling bits on eBay to make a little bit of money but it's not exactly going to keep my going.

Starting up a glass business and customer base is hard.
Officially a struggling artist right now.

Birmingham Museum and Art gallery

Birmingham Museum and Art gallery

I visited Birmingham’s Museum/Art Gallery yesterday and really enjoyed myself. Some of the paintings were breathtaking, painted hundreds of years ago with (what I would class as) inferior materials which often were partly to blame for the untimely demise of the artist. I guess at least their work went up in value though… Little compensation I imagine. There was a sculptural figure of the Angel Lucifer (pictured) which I can only describe as freaky, no other word quite conveys my feelings appropriately. The body was sculpted with a male model as the reference and the head was sculpted using a female as reference, this added to its grotesque quality as the eyes were odd and hugely disproportionate which I assume was intentional. Considering Lucifer was described as “the most beautiful of all the angels” in the statement accompanying the piece, the sculptor obviously had very different perceptions of beauty to my own but maybe that is just because we were born in different eras.  Then my peace, tranquillity and quiet pondering was ruined by several small children entering the room going “Ewww, you can see his bum and willy”. Ah the wonders of childhood… I do not get on well with the teacup humans.

Anyway to give you fair warning this is about to turn in to a rant, a rant about some of the differences between then and now. (Not a rant about children, tempting though that may be at this point.)

            Artists were only considered artists if they had talent; an artisan was a master of his trade and it was almost exclusively “his” trade. (That part I’m not so keen on, women have as much right to do everything as men do, we have just been rather controlling in the weird little power-game that is history to feel superior to women even though we clearly are not.)  He had skill; he had to have skill to make a living trading in his artwork. He couldn’t just splash some paint on to a canvas and say it was abstract. I feel old starting a rant like this but; “these days” you don’t have to actually have ANY skill whatsoever, you just have to pay people to make the art for you then claim it as yours because you thought of it.  It has been called “the art of not making” along with some much less flattering names. You may have gleaned with your heightened sense of perception that I am against this general state of affairs. You would be absolutely correct.

            I get angry about this, I also feel jealousy bubbling away below the surface as these people who are often considered “great artists of our time” and their art is seen by millions of people whilst truly skilled people get overlooked. It is unfair but that is life. I wonder what the history books will say about this era concerning the artistic movement. You can’t really call it the “Untalented Movement” or the “I wanted to be an artist so that is what I will do regardless of my actual ability to draw or sculpt or do anything useful movement”… that last one isn’t particularly catchy.

            I feel torn asunder in my own argument sometimes because I believe such things as ‘found objects’ can be art if placed in the right context or if you are made to perceive them in a different way. The artist never claims those pieces as his/her own work or idea, they did not commission that piece to be made for their cause. In my head I suppose this is the difference between people of no talent who claim the right as artist to something someone else makes whereas the artist who can cause you to perceive something ordinary as extraordinary has a talent in their ability to change your perception.

            So yes, the gallery. (This will not be the most linear thing you will read in your life, but you’re not my English Teacher and hopefully you actually want to be reading this so in theory you shouldn’t give a damn.)  They had some beautiful examples of Japanese belt adornments, yes they have a proper name but I have a terrible memory which is why I took notes!

            I have had a fascination with the English variety of these things which don’t appear to have a collective name but tended to be highly decorated perfume bottles or tobacco pouches. To see the same things but from a different culture was of particular interest to me, they had a name for each piece of it, the clasp at the top which attached it to the belt was intricately carved, the bead separating the clasp from the box or bottle had its own story and the boxes themselves were awe inspiringly beautiful. The concept of spending so much time, care and money on something so small and functional is almost alien to me coming from the mass-production era and the throw-away society in which we now live.