Sunday, November 29, 2015

Blogging like a boss & two other things I'm doing differently

Carpe Diem Papers

I'm not nearly cool enough to do anything "like a boss". Or even say it like I'm remotely living in a hipster world however…I am cool enough to realize, as the end of the year approaches, there are some business and art things I want to change and improve. And um, awkward, I don't know how.

So I did what we 2015-ers do for everything, I googled it. I googled a lot, in fact, went down a pretty dark rabbit hole of self improvement, marketing, life coach, writing, promoting your business, you can become an art rockstar while napping type websites and gurus promising the moon. So I narrowed it down and found a class and a resource that wasn't technical at all, it just felt right.

I'm taking an online blog workshop. And no, it's not called Blogging Like a Boss but I wish it was, I would have signed up months ago! I hesitated at first to write about taking a workshop but I'm very transparent when it comes to my art and business and the fake til you make it way of getting shit done. It's so easy for days and weeks and months to go by and often, for me, some of my art and business goals slip away as holidays come and go.

I re-read a recent post and this isn't a new topic for me. So why not give it a try? There's something about taking a course, paying your green money that gives it stronger legs to stand on. Plus, I love writing, bizarrely find this world of SEO, page ranking and headlines fascinating albeit  a little depressing that there is such a science behind it. I know, I know, I'm probably a decade behind all of this breaking news but I'm here now.

First, I am blogging like a boss.  I work for myself so take that with a grain of salt. Second, I am admitting I need some help in this arena which means yes, I will most likely be vacating blogspot in the near future. Is that like having hotmail? I thought I had this talking about life and art and biz thing dialed in but not really so I am asking for assistance, learning from a pro, and giving it a shot.  And third, I'm publishing this confessional, a little uncomfortable, definitely different, but enthusiastically freed up knowing that I'm bravely trying something new. xo

P.S. Oh yeah, the painting! "Three Apothecary Bottles", 8x10", available at ElizabethW Carmel

Saturday, November 28, 2015


This painting just sold. It was a bittersweet moment for me, heavy on the sweet, but pulled on my heartstrings nonetheless. I don't keep much of my work. I love painting, love selling, love shipping, the entire arc of being a creative entrepreneur. I put a lot of love into what I'm doing and once complete it doesn't belong to me anymore, it's out in the world for the next person. This is called paying the bills. And keeping the foot on the gas. And being a working artist. And every now and then, those rational things take a back seat and I get attached to something and on almost every occasion if I get attached, I know someone else will too. It's that feeling we are looking for in art, in words, in film, TV. Feeling something. In my case, I'm a sucker for nostalgia and sentiment. Not the sugary sappy stuff, but the weird quirky things that call me…a glass candy jar that my nana kept her humbugs in, old books, transfer ware, the smell of pie baking, the feel of the heavy card stock on a vintage flash card. The list could go on and does go on, ad infinitum. It's my job as an artist to try to capture these little pockets of that feeling, those sweet snapshots of golden. xo

Wednesday, November 4, 2015


My parents had this redwing crock in our house when I was growing up. Not this exact crock, I don't own it,  not sure where it ended up, I wish I did have it, but one just like it. Inspiration is funny like that, where does it come from and how do we catch it? Of all the million memories, images, objects I could paint from, a beaten up earthenware urn demands my attention? And while painting this, I could close my eyes and see that crock. On the back porch with other pots of geraniums and pots, pre-Martha Stewart, my parents had this eclectic way of putting things together that were homey, folksy, stylish and warm. I didn't know that then. But I can appreciate it now.

Painting this I slowed down, really remembered my childhood home, the back deck, the yard, the quirky things all over the house that I took for granted as normal but….really…mounted antlers pre-antlers being cool? That was a teensy bit weird back then in the age of Cyndi Lauper and Lacoste t-shirts. Today I so appreciate my roots. They serve as my memory bible for all things weird AND wonderful. It might seem like a small thing, an obscure Redwing crock with a bunch of peonies in it but for me, this is memory, a visceral incredible homesick memory that drives all that I paint and write today. I guess what I'm saying is that it all matters. All the stories, all the memories, the images, the dialogues, the good bits and the bad. You don't know when they will present themselves as the perfect gift you never knew you needed. xo