Self-hype · Thursday April 8, 2010 by Julie
I’ve been reading Taking the Leap about learning to sell your own art, a difficult step for those of us who prefer to simply do the art. I don’t like the consequences, though, which include watching it accumulate in drifts under the stairs and on the walls of the spare room.
It should go without saying (but alas, I must say this to myself often) that I have to use a dispassionate eye to evaluate whether I like a piece because it’s good, or simply because it’s of sentimental value. Anything that can’t survive that jaundiced eye should neither be sold nor–and here’s the hard part–given away. However, and this is just as hard for me, once I’ve chosen to make a piece public, I can’t badmouth it. My inner critic, however noisy it gets, shouldn’t be public. People want to be happy with what they buy.
An unexpected artifact of the market is that people want to collect a particular artist in the hope that their art will appreciate. Thus, I need a CV, something that will convince them that I’m committed to doing more and that there’s a chance I’ll get better at it. I’ve put together a rough draft, and will be adding to it. The trick is to include anything that looks as though I really mean it, without getting down to the Age 7: House With Smoke Coming Out Sideways Series level.
Third, I need to charge consistent prices that acknowledge the intrinsic value of the work – no discount because you’re a friend or because I’ve gotten tired of a piece and want it gone. This is a difficult one to internalize. After years of crafts fairs, I want to be open to offering bargains. But no. Not in the fine arts world. People want to pay enough so that they can reassure themselves that they have something of value, and something that might appreciate.
Evoke · Tuesday April 6, 2010 by Julie
http://www.urgentevoke.com/
Hiccup · Thursday March 25, 2010 by Julie
My computer had a power hiccup which caused it to shut down, apparently permanently. An angel at the Apple Store fixed it by removing the battery and the power adapter, then replacing them and pressing the power button for 5 seconds while holding down control option p r. Why didn’t I think of that?
When I was pregnant, each of my three babies got frequent hiccups. As adults, they have found that concentrating on a difficult problem usually makes them go away.
If that doesn’t work, you can always read the hiccup blog, or 250 cures for hiccups.
Italian: singhiozzo
Russian: икота
Portuguese: soluço
German: Schluckauf
French: hoquet
Dutch: hik
Czech: skytavka
Finnish: hikka
Turkish: hıçkırık
Tijuana · Saturday March 20, 2010 by Julie
When I was about six or seven, my grandfather and his wife visited from New York. They were not particularly interested in us girls, which was just fine with us. We’d been trained to be seen but not heard, an arrangement that’s gone out of fashion but has much to recommend it. One day, all of us got into the Pink Mowkel and drove from Hollywood down the coast, through San Diego and over to Tijuana in Mexico. This was before seat belts were required, of course.
That trip was one of the reasons that I’ve always been drawn to foreign countries. Tijuana, even though people love to scorn it as a border town, was all romance that day.
Unlike the quiet, shabby-but-scrubbed immigrant neighborhood where I grew up, Tijuana was dirty, noisy, and pungent.
We trotted through awning-covered markets, picked our way around ripped-up sidewalks, and listened to the chocolaty sounds of Spanish. My grandfather and father had spent World War II in Bolivia. My sisters and I hung close to them, proud beyond measure that they could talk Spanish. It was a bewildering, dusty, tumultuous day for me.
At the very end of our trip, we each got to pick one item from a stall crammed with trinkets. One sister got some hideously striped candy, the other a pair of castañets. I got the loveliest scarf in the world. It was some kind of gauzy nylon, pink on one side fading to blue on the other. A glittering butterfly had been painted near a corner. The whole confection was tucked into a flat white box with genuine white tissue paper wrapped around it.
I cherished that box and the knowledge that inside it was that scarf. I kept it for years and years in my treasure drawer, along with a purple velvet ribbon and a mechanical tin cat. It was not necessary to open the box to remember the tissue paper and how it crinkled, and the scarf’s exquisiteness.
One day, about ten years later, I opened the box again to see a tawdry little rag, badly hemmed, with a dated looking butterfly clumily daubed on it. I threw it out.
An Irritating Car · Friday March 19, 2010 by Julie
When we got our Ford Windstar in the late 1990’s, we were looking for something that would comfortably contain our three menfolk, imposing guys with stature. What we did not know was that the car would suck down gasoline, believe that a $400 repair for a malfunctioning door lock was just fine, and rattle promiscuously.
Today, I drove it from Seattle to Portland. At low speeds, it jingled, bounced, and squeaked. Well, I’m used to that. The ABS brake light was on. It’s been on for some years. Two mechanics looked at it, at great expense, and concluded that “it’s just the sensor.” So fine. Oh, and the Check Engine light was on, too. David just went to the mainland yesterday and said nothing about the light. Did it wait for me to go on? Or did David think such a teeny thing wasn’t worth mentioning? After all, it’s a very small light, which could fit under a quarter if you taped it on to the dashboard display in just the right spot. I juddered and rattlled down I5, wondering if I should cruise around the Greater Northwest, looking for a reliable mechanic. Or proceed to Portland, where my sisters have pointed me to a good one?
Portland. The front brakes were bad. An engine hose had collapsed. The tires were bald, and also the wrong size for the car. Now, just over $1,000 later, there is still a rattle and jingle in the front wheels and the heater makes terrible noises, but the warning lights have gone off and the judder is gone. I’m grateful to the mechanic and looking for a better car.
The Lost Gardens of Heligan · Friday March 19, 2010 by Julie
Remember Frances Burnett’s The Secret Garden?
NOMA · Wednesday March 10, 2010 by Julie
Stephen Jay Gould on NOMA
Shopping List · Wednesday March 10, 2010 by Julie
“What are you getting on the mainland, Bob?” I asked.
“Oh, the usual stuff that I always get. Tobacco, hydrogen peroxide, propellors.”
San Juan Fernandez Island Needs Help · Sunday February 28, 2010 by Julie
Here is a letter I got from a friend. Please help if you can:
As many of you know, I have had the privilege and honor of working in the Juan Fernandez Islands, Chile for the past 10 years on a variety of conservation and community-based education programs. It is difficult for me to write this, but the islands were hit very hard by the tsunami that developed following the massive earthquake that struck Chile yesterday. There is very little news from the islands, but the little that we have heard is that the entire coastal zone of the town on Robinson Crusoe has been destroyed. At least 5 people have been confirmed dead and 11 are missing. My very close friend and colleague, Erin Hagen, is currently on Robinson. We have heard that she is okay, but she briefly described in her message that many people were swept out to sea. Sadly, this suggests that the losses in the community will continue to rise. There is absolutely no news from the small fishing village out on Selkirk, but I fear that the situation out there may well be desperate given that the little village would have been exposed to a direct hit from the tsunami.
The community, in which I have many close friends, is going to need considerable help and support. We have set up a charitable fund through our Oikonos website to accept donations for the community. 100% of all donations will go directly to benefit the Juan Fernandez community.
Please feel free to forward this message on to anyone who you think might be interested in helping.
And please light a candle and send your thoughts to the Juan Fernandez community.
In peace, love and friendship,
Trotsky · Monday February 22, 2010 by Julie
We have been listening to Barbara Kingsolver’s The Lacuna on tape.
Leon Trotsky appears, kindly and avuncular. Since then, his name has been coming up all over the place. You can read his charming and bloody autobiography here.
Arthur Ransome, author of the very nice Swallows and Amazons, married Trotsky’s secretary (eventually).
We’ve been listening to iTunesU and found a Christopher Hitchins discussion on Trotsky.
And, finally, his name has been linked with koalas.