Looking for Concepts

I've been telling myself to get off the computer, eat lunch, and go weave the last bit on the big loom, for approximately six hours, but I'm still looking for concepts, or one teeny tiny concept, and happened upon all kinds of far out ideas and instructions by Lynne of The Twisted Warp in a place called Instructables. Mind-boggling.

And the Marketing Saga of 2008

Cally Booker commented:

"I am not sure that a logo as such is strictly necessary. Of course, it can be fun and recognisable, but your name can serve that purpose too. My problem is commiting myself to something that "seems like a good idea at the time" - I have a lot of ideas like that! That's why my blog is called callybooker and not something clever; I was afraid that what I thought was clever this week would annoy me hugely the next. It took me ages to come up with my etsy name "bonnyclaith" and I am still cautious about it. I reckon I'd need to give myself another couple of years to develop a logo. On the other hand I will still be called Cally Booker and in my wilder dreams I dare to hope that is label people will associate with my weaving."

Which made me think of where I want to be in 10 years, instead of why I have all this. And by all this, I mean, my name, MegWeaves, and the yellow logo. I spent time thinking and designing the last two, and they all seemed like good finalists at the time.

I've been using colors, many of them, and different ones, which probably prompted me to want to revamp my brand visually. I was embarrassed to see my faded business card/swing tag. One other thing is I sometimes use this removable stickers to put prices on, but with ink-jet-printable homemade cards, the stickers can't be removed cleanly. But all this is in the past.

I'm not making drastic changes right now, like discarding the business cards and care labels I've already printed out, but I think I will phase out the yellow logo. I've got so many cloth labels so they will stay, which means on paper and electronically I will continue to use my name and MegWeaves in monotype corsiva in black or gray.

I'll see how my direction in weaving and, ok, vision, change. I'll need business cards in the relatively near future, but as I feel some changes coming in my weaving, I don't want to rush into another logo I need to abandon in another few years.

Oh, I'm still getting some moo cards, just because they are so lovely, but I don't feel they need to be a permanent fixture in the business of my weaving. Just like the postcards I have made up over the years to send to friends and clients. I want to be professional in my approach, but I'm trying out "laid back" and "taking it easy".

What about 2009 Then?

In 2008, too often I cut too close to deadlines (or just silly-stupid-behind), and I didn't enjoy working this way, so I want to avoid it. I also recycled work from one exhibition to another, and it's good that I have enough pieces to be able to do that, but for exhibitions, I'd like to cover most of the space with new work.

At the end of 2009, I hope to have no pending projects which were supposed to have been finished prior to that time. No leftover draft posts, either.

In 2009, I want to handle gallery stocks in a more systematic manner. In addition to the Red and the Suter, I will definitely have stuff at the Refinery, finally. Then later, I would like to look for one outlet outside Nelson and I will also look into Etsy or similar.

In 2009, I must make my static web site more interesting by adding contents. The point of moving my website from the computer under Ben's desk to Blogger was for me to be able to add/update incrementally. I've been asked a couple of time why the photos of my past work had disappeared. And it's hardly the case that I find posting on Blogger onerous or difficult, is it?

In 2009, I would like to try dyeing. And unlike all previous years I said this without conviction, I would like to actually do it. And continue to experiment with colors.

As regards the business/marketing side of weaving, I'd like to tidy my desk and my head and come up with a system so in the long run I simplify that less enticing side of my life.

On the creative front, I would like to plan less and enjoy more. I would like to try new methods and processes as well as aesthetics. I think this means, in 2009, I will finally be my own apprentice.

And while apprenticing, I hope to choose my friends wisely, and be amongst people who have similar outlook, attitude and aspirations. I want to connect with encouraging, forward-looking friends. And it's a cinch with the Internet. Who knows, I may even try sending something in exhibitions far, far away.

Looking at the bigger picture, I want to spend time decluttering and beautifying my house and garden. I am happiest when surrounded by order, but more than that, I would like the place I live to reflect my aesthetics, rather than my work pattern/style or character.

And I would like to spend a bit more time cooking and baking, and taking more self-congratulatory photographs. Nothing wrong in trying to please the toughest critic.

And finally, I wish you, dear friends, health, content, beauty, challenges, elation, thrills, triumphs, steady Internet connection, kind warps, and lovely cups of tea (or hot choc) in 2009.

2008 in Review

Last night Ben asked me how many exhibitions I was involved in this year, and I had to think. There was the Craft 08 in February, which I consider to be at the tail end of 2007, so really, only the wall at the Suter, and the walls at Fibre Spectrum. I participated in the Area exhibition, too, but for that I built up on the Suter collection; come to think of it, I even used them for Fibre Spectrum, so compared to the mad 16 months of 2007, I'd say in 2008 I did one and a half exhibitions. And I think I wove four commission pieces, with three more pending, but I can't be sure.

In July, I wove different kinds of things in a short time to send to Santa Fe Weaving Gallery, and though they didn't accept my work, (they wanted "edgy",) it gave me a chance to reassess what I want to weave, and the answer then was the fine cottons. It still is today.

Then I had my piece rejected by the National Guild Exhibition. The rejection itself wasn't a big deal; in fact I think I told you I wondered on the day I packaged it up that I've been lucky getting everything I sent accepted in the three (I think) Nationals, and this year could be my turn to get rejected. But the aftermath of trying to figure out what they meant by "too many technical errors" left a bitter taste. The saddest thing is, I still don't know what errors they meant, (I'm the last one to say I am a technically strong weaver, in spite of what even my close weaving friends tell me, so they had a willing audience,) and they probably think I'm still griping about the rejection.

The bitter experience was compounded by the difficulties I faced in trying to apply for a scholarship by the same organization. I won't bother with links, but in mid-December I received a strange email telling me I was unsuccessful; I wasn't surprised at all since they changed the rules after my package reached them, but the email contained a personal and unattractive paragraph at the end. On Christmas Eve, my application pack came home and I couldn't even tell if my samples were ever taken out of the pockets. All in all, these last months freed me from any sense of obligation or loyalty to the national organization, and I'm definitely taking time out from the national, and possibly the local guild, next year. The organization works for some people, so no disrespect, but it's just not for me for now.

Before the scholarship hooha, I resigned from the sample exchange group, which is a sub group of the National guild as well. There were several reasons, among them my lack of motivation and inability to meet the guideline-deadline, but I was also disappointed with samples woven by some of New Zealand's big name weavers. As a newbie, I joined this group because I wanted to learn weave structures, but also because I wanted to be inspired by the more experienced weavers, and this third lot was particularly disappointing. But I promised fellow members I'll send in my 2007/08 sample; that's one of those things on my Still To Do list.

I also parted way with Sue Bateup for the time being, amicably, of course. I needed to regroup and accommodate my changing work schedule/style/pattern; she graduated from her Bachelor's course and wanted to rebrand her gallery and needed others who could help pay the rent. But I liked being part of her gallery, she liked her time off, so we decided to see where the rebranded, renamed Maitai Gallery goes, and it's likely that in a year's time I'll resume minding her gallery and bring my things to sell when I'm there. And we also hope to have more robust discussions on our respective creative endeavors.

I still have a truck load of leftover projects on the To Do list as well as on the looms. My stash room, the house and the garden is a mess, made worse in the last few days because I'm still hoping to get some big cleaning done. Luckily my depression seems to have disappeared or gone into remission or however you say it, for the first time in over six years, so I'm disgusted and grumpy about the state of things, but I'm also hopeful I can sort it out in 2009. And that's an amazing feeling after so long.

The Warp

The warp, in two chains, has 1536 ends, enough for 16 inches/40cm at 96EPI. I would like to weave at 99EPI, but I'll decide after I come up with a weave structure and treading on a sample loom. The warp starts with black and gray, then moves on to blue-greens, greens, yellows and two oranges. I didn't want soft, all-over gradation, so in places I swapped the order of the cones so the color changes sway. With no plan but just the general order of the colors, I've managed to put in 25 colors in what I hope to be an attractive, umm, arrangement. Most segments have three different colors, with also a few two-color segments, and two at the edges, black and terracotta, in singles.

I want to edit the colors after I spread the warp on the rod and the raddle but before I wind on. I'm not sure about the black, as it stands out too much from the rest; in contrast, there is one saturated teal and one bright yellow, but by restricting the number of ends, I hope I've manged not to let them stand out as much. I'd like to add highlight colors like I did previously; I'm thinking of scattering a few yellows and oranges in the cool side, and blues in the warm side. There is one color called pewter which looks more like white gold that did not fit in the initial scheme; I'm thinking it may work in the blue or even gray/black area.

It will be a chore to wind this. They are 60/2 mercerized cottons, but these threads love to twist and twine around each other. I remember someone once mentioned talcum powder, but do you know anything else I should consider? I've been wondering about baking powder.

I've become used to having two or three projects developing at the same time, but not different segments of one project as in this case. It's ridiculous and dangerous. But just now a friend commented on our photo blog and wished us a "prosperous" New Year, and I misread it as "preposterous"!! "Completely contrary to nature, reason, or common sense; absurd; senseless; utterly foolish" doesn't sound too bad, though, does it? It's could be just the replacement muse I'm looking for.

Now, put the kettle on, climb into your comfy chair, and prepare to be educated by Dot on the subject of colors here.

A Little Aesthetic Relief

Cally Booker kindly sent me some of her moo cards as well as a postcard and a business card, which I received yesterday. Have a look; lovely, aren't they? As regards her postcard, Cally writes:

"I had these postcards made for the Bradford show as well and almost hate them now - everyone says "I like your tartan..."

I agree, absolutely definitely not tartans, but rich, seductive and fabulous, Cally. Though you may need to move out of Scotland to be understood.

Thanks. I'm starting to warm to the idea of Moo care labels. Ben thinks it's a great idea.

Reckless

I am, I am.

I decided one of the ideas I was warming to needs to go. I can't explain it well, but if you imagine a glorified hanging/revolving lamp shade, you're not far. Still, I keep making this warp.

I don't know what it's going to be, what structure or threading I'm going to use, and I'm not even sure what sett I'm going to use. It's the 2/60 cotton, and I liked around 33 EPI with 2/20 cottons, so somewhere between 96 to 99 sounds good. Theoretically. Mathematically. So I'm making an 16-inch/40cm-wide warp in all the colors you see in the pic yesterday, 99 x 16 being the exact number of heddles I have on my big loom.

While I'm going through the motion of making the warp, I discovered I don't know what "conceptual" means in art-making; I know the dictionary definition, but I'm pretty sure there's more to it. And I keep confusing "conceptual" with "installation".

If you went to art school, please, please, please tell me your understanding of the word "conceptual", as well as how you might interpret "showcase the use of fibre and textiles in a challenging and more conceptual way." I don't need examples of projects, but some pointers as to how to how to look at this project?

Only last night I said I was going to continue Summer-Blog-Lite for a while. Turns out I lied. I'm becoming a bit bogged down.

Art vs Craft and Dollar Value, Again...

I'm Japanese, so it goes without saying I love ceramics as much as textiles. And Nelson is one of the hubs of New Zealand ceramics. My taste in ceramics is, again, utilitarian, so I love ceramicists/potters who stick with relatively inexpensive things I can use every day.

Yesterday, Trish, Ben and I had a wonderful lunch at the cafe inside Mapua camp ground, (we recommend the starter platter), then went to Bronte Gallery, which I believe has the finest art ceramics in Nelson, and McGlashen Pottery, which I consider to have the nicest usable ceramics in Nelson, though the Robertsons at Bronte has usable stuff and Royce McGlashen, beatiful art pieces as well.

We don't go see Daryl Robertson often enough, but when we do, we have a good natter, about aesthetics, art buyers, craft/art in Japan, and the adventures and misadventures of their sons. For the first time yesterday, though, (now that I have a couple of years of art-making behind me,) we were able to talk about, well, art-making, a little bit. We talked about the exactitude required to sell things to the Japanese market and how at this point I can't be bothered even thinking about it. It was a good natter. He and Lesley are doing more paintings now; in fact I have a story about how I came to buy one of her paintings but that's for another post. We have a few of their smaller ceramics, but not their main art pieces. It's not that I don't appreciate them, in fact some of the Daryl's work is beautifully crafted, but I am still bothered by ceramic pieces I can't eat off of or drink out of or stick flowers into, or can't give friends to wear. I don't put as much dollar value to them even though I fully realize they are far more ardurous, tough work.

Then we rushed into McGlashen's five minutes before closing, and we ooohed and aaahed and rushed around the shop space like headless chickens. Good thing Trish bought a few things, because we stayed far too long beyond their closing time. I get a little overwhelmed at McGlashen's because I love so many of his work and I become incapable of deciding, plus Ben and I like very different things. And that's just a quick look around his usable pieces. After the kitchen is finished (in Feb?) we might go and get a few pieces if we can. We might go for several visits before I make up my mind... And it's funny how I feel this is a semi-basic spending, though I tend to dismiss his art pieces, as attractive as they are, as frivolous spending on my part, and regrettably there are a few art/decorative pieces he used to do but no longer which I really wished we had considered more seriously.

So how does this relate to textiles as a collector? Well, as a collector, no matter how beautiful, I've never honestly been tempted to buy tapestry, even if they were made by dear friends; I've always felt they were overpriced, even though I know how much time and work goes into them and appreciate the artistry and skills. In contrast, I have a more studied relationship with the prices of shawls, scarves and the like. I find myself assessing calmly (even if I don't look it) if I see the same emotional/artistic/intrinsic value in a piece as shown on the price tag, and I have bought things out of my price range but where the pieces were worthwhile. As well, I know in handing and wearing a piece, one has far more chances to see/feel/smell and appreciate/experience the piece in comparison to looking at something hung stationary on the wall, no matter how many times and from how many angles I look.

What does it mean to me as a maker? I don't know. The only thing I've learned thus far, and I'm quite serious here, is if you want to let the world know a piece of your weaving is art rather than craft, put an outrageous price on it. I don't like this attitude; it feels dishonest and false. But I do know my wearable pieces are on the high end, and my only art piece was, according to others, ridiculously cheap and therefore the talk of the exhibition.

Gee, I've got to get off this computer now...

On Freeing our Spirit, Inner Child or Whatever You Call that One

Which brings me to this point I've been thinking for a while. You know there is this big movement, most vocally in the Julia Cameron/New Age/Oprah universe, to free ourselves from constraints and let the Artist do as s/he pleases. Gazillion writers have called it by gazillion different names, but you know what I mean. Follow the muse; that kind of thing.

Well, my muse hasn't got much of fairy wings. I swear he buzzes around in circles in stale-smelling pin-stripe suits from time to time; I swear he has cheap-cigarette-stained fingers, and is definitely at the end of middle age. He most definitely doesn't dance around in vibrant Nelson colors... And he's a he most of the time. I gotta get me a new muse, or a guardian angel, or whatever one of those...

I've been thinking we (women in particular) probably never had it as easy as we do in many parts of the Western world compared to most of what we know of our history. The society is comparatively affluent, there is much less dire poverty and child mortality, (though I realize we must never forget these exist far more than we think, and surprisingly close by,) and though the middle class is shrinking, I would hazard to guess many of us who weave and blog use an electric washing machine inside our house, for example, rather than trotting off to a nearby river and beating the heck out of our jammies and blankets next to a neighbor washing his/her veggies. You get the gist. Housework have become easy. Gender expectation is less rigid on both the societal and personal levels. There are fewer rituals to observe. We have more options.

I realize I'm extremely privileged. I'm married to a husband with a day job who doesn't mind my art-ing, and though our bank balance has been going south ever since I started, we've not had to default on any payment or do without basics thus far. I just can't buy books (not really a problem) and no holidays or even trips to Wellington (problem!!). We live far away from our family so we are less involved in the day-to-day obligations. And though we have niggles more often than we care, all our limbs and vital body parts are functioning most of the time.

Even my sister (who today goes to her in-laws' to prepare for their New Year's celebrations), let alone Mom and my grandmothers, would seriously question what "constraints" I'm trying to escape from, and could tell me to stop yammering and whining and get on with the job. And they would be fully justified.

I'm not negating the need for us all to free the artistic monsters within. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I've been mentally/psychologically very well, because I see all the things I feel appreciative of, and things that don't go my way, well, I can live with them, or better yet, forget them. I'm also understanding I was sicker than I had thought in the last six or so years, so I'll be learning about that next year. But I've never felt as carefree or optimistic as I do now in a long, long time.

This post was supposed to be a tad more serious about how lucky we are historically, but never mind. I'm going to microwave the last of the Christmas pudding now.

I'm Trying Not to Think About It...

Included in the last Arts Council newsletter of 2008, as regards the Awards 2009:

Changing Threads

...

Supported by establishment assistance from the Creative Communities Scheme, Arts Council Nelson is pleased to announce that entries are now open for ‘Changing Threads’ a locally based National Fibre Art Award event. The aim of this event is to showcase the use of fibre and textiles in a challenging and more conceptual way from their more general usage.

Background:
The impetus for ‘Changing Threads’ grew out of the communities’ embracement of the Wearable Art Awards concept and the high number of fibre art practitioners in our region. It is hoped that this event will provide our talented local practitioners the opportunity to showcase works in conjunction with the most innovative fibre artists from other parts of New Zealand.

...

The vision is for ’Changing Threads’ to become a highly respected annual event, by aspiring to excellence in the field and providing participatory opportunities and inspiration to practitioners and audiences alike. In so doing it is anticipated to become a vehicle to focus national, and potentially International attention on the region and add value to our creative reputation for residents and visitors alike.

Italics in dire red is mine, and there lie my problems... I don't like the mishmashy, indiscriminate layers-for-the-sake-of-layers thing. And I'm so not big on felting, unless there is a good reason. And I don't have a concept. All my thinking thus far has been at the just-using-textile-I-make-so-it's-not-a-shawl level. I know enough to spot the obvious difference, that I'm working backward, but I don't know enough to switch my direction...

What's the difference between conceptual and installation? Do I even want to do conceptual ("not good" in my book) just for the sake of challenging (generally good) myself?

And considering Nelson is known nationally as the birth place of WOW, artists would definitely be starting at the art end and work back to textile. I feel like a minnow in the Pacific. Nah, a cell trying to split from one to two in the Pacific.

* * * * *

And an email I got from Claudia the fashion designer while putting together this post:

"Good luck to you!!
I think I’d start by thinking of what I could do with the coloured cotton wool balls that one uses for make up removal…"

I can't tell if she was being flippant, but this is the kind of "different" I need in my thinking, I guess. Instead of thinking how to show my cloth beautifully. Good Gravy....