Arts and Crafts

Growing up, it annoyed me to hear "Arts and Crafts" said in the same breath. Like they're the same, if you did one you did the other. It annoyed me because I considered myself an artist, but not a crafter. And I really didn't want to be a crafter. I drew and painted and illustrated and created and experimented. I didn't craft.

Of course, I had a very specific idea of what crafting was. Crafting was what those moms with the clean houses did in order to make their clean houses all decorated and cute. They'd find some cute thing someone else had already made and follow the step-by-step instructions and end up with the same cute thingy to put on their cute, clean doors or tables or whatever.

(DISCLAIMER: there is nothing at all wrong with having a cute, clean house.)

I wasn't interested in cute. Or in cleaning for that matter. Getting paint all over myself, and the canvas--now THAT was something I could handle. And getting ALL the dishes dirty in the creation of a beautifully delicious pie, or leaving bits of paper all over the carpet after a snowflake cutting session. (Those are mandatory every winter. No exceptions.)

Snowflake cutting was the closest I came to crafting. But snowflakes were kind of brainy and creative, if you know what I mean--making them with six points is a challenge for awhile, but then you do them with five, and then with seven, or three (four or eight points was just too easy). I did it enough to kind of intuitively know what the final snowflake would look like. It always baffled me (still does, actually) that people would follow a pattern to cut a snowflake. I mean, seriously? You follow the directions on how to fold it--that makes sense. And then you make something unique and cool! You know, that whole every-snowflake-is-unique thing? You don't follow a pattern.  Seriously?

So if I was never really interested in crafting, why on earth would I apply for a job at a crafting company?

Easy answer: I didn't.

A fellow illustration major did. He was offered the job but didn't feel like it was the right fit for him. He ran into me on campus and mentioned there was an opportunity for a vector-based illustration job, and I was the only one he knew who really liked working in vector, so would I possibly be interested in that? Sure, I said. He told me that if he decided not to accept the job offer, he'd recommend me. They contacted me about a week later and it ended up working out, and there I was, working for Cricut, designing crafts.

So it wasn't that I applied at a crafting company, it was that someone recommended me for creating vector-based artwork.

My first project wasn't an easy one, and I can now actually talk about it because it's released for everyone to buy--the 3D Floral Home Decor cartridge (http://us.cricut.com/Shopping/detail--3D-Floral-Home-D%C3%A9cor-Cartridge-0-12660.aspx). So not only was I doing paper art, I was doing fairly complicated 3D paper art for people to decorate their cute clean houses with (I mean, Home Decor is right in the title) for my very first project.

And I discovered something about myself. I'm still not interested in having a clean, cute, decorated, trendy, etc. house. (I fit the disorganized artist stereotype pretty well.) What I am interested in is visual problem solving--figuring out how to make something work. And then how to make it better.

Some of the coolest flowers on that cartridge came from seeing something someone else had done and saying, ok, thats cool, but how can I make something even cooler? And some of it I just completely made up.

And it was so. much. fun.

And now I can't stop. I've designed and assembled about 5 new Christmas ornaments by this point, cut out on my awesome Cricut Explore machine. Its taken multiple tries to get them right, and my garbage can is full of failed attempts and the carpet is covered in paper confetti.

And then, when I've finally got something that works, what do I do? I might take a quick snapshot for instagram, and then I stick it on the shelf, along with the other final versions and a bit of dust (I don't clean, remember?)--and start a new experiment.

It was never really about creating something to display and look cool.

It's about creating something cool, period.


I think back on all the projects and mediums I've gotten really into--ambigrams, stained glass, even oil painting, and a freaking upside-down picture book--they have specific limitations, and then you have to take those limitations and say, ok, what can I do? What will work? To me, thats the most interesting reason to do arts and crafts.

Yeah, I said them together. Arts and Crafts.

What does Thumper say?

Maybe kids now don't grow up watching Bambi, but I believe that at least most of my generation did, and have therefore had reason to be reminded of Thumper's little saying, "If you can't say somethin' nice, don't say nuthin' at all."

Seeing the types of comments that come up on almost every blog post or article I've read online recently, I've been thinking about this a lot . There are a whole lot of people saying a whole lot of not-nice things. And this is basically what you expect to see when you scroll down to the comments section.

And the fact of the matter is, the world isn't black and white, and sometimes there are not-nice things that need saying.

So I am proposing my own version of Thumper's mantra:

If you can't say something nicely, don't say it at all.

By this I do not mean that we should say rude or sarcastic things prettily. What I mean is, if you disagree, feel free to do so. Do it tactfully, intelligently, chivalrously, without mud-slinging or name calling.

Can you do that for me, internet?

The storm before the calm

So my last few weeks have been pretty insane, one thing after another on top of another.

So first I had finals. The Sunday before finals week (I had two finals left) my roommate Michele told us she was NOT getting married in Brazil in a few weeks as planned, but THAT THURSDAY. Being the awesome roommates we are, we helped her put that together--THAT was quite a week. I had to bother and annoy all the people necessary in order to get my temple recommend so that I could actually BE at the wedding, as well as clean up our house for the reception.

This was during the time that I was GOING to be packing up and moving out and finishing up my last project at work.

So.

I worked until mid-afternoon on Friday and got my last project finished, then I went back to the apartment and started packing up.

Then I got a call from mom.

Breanna had a special Lagoon day the next day, and she'd only be able to stay until 1 o'clock, unless I could come supervise her and her friends... so could I possibly get all my packing and moving done that night?

I drove home at two in the morning.

We left Lagoon at four, and I slept.

Sunday was Sunday, and Monday morning it was off to CA with Kim, Becky, and Michelle to meet MWT. Who is made of awesome, just by the way. And my mom is awesome, for making it possible for me to go.

I got home in time to unpack and re-pack to head off to Florida. This was good practice for the mission, I believe--it was hot, and humid, and we walked and walked and walked and walked (though we didn't really sing much as we did). I can't say I really liked the climate, but I do think I could get used to it. I'll have to. (I'm very glad to be back in my dry mountainous desert, where my hair actually gets dry and I know North from South again.)


So this is all one of those hurry-up-and-WAIT scenarios. Because now I'm home, and I do have a few things on my to-do list, and three months to do it all in. The original plan was to have a month to do it all in, because my avalability date for the mission was June 1st. So I have nothing planned for June and July. I'll just... read, and paint, and shop for missionary clothes (etc.) and cook dinner. And go on a couple family vacations I didn't think I'd go on.

*yawn*

Well, off I go. To do... stuff. Yeah, stuff.

pet peeve

I can't really call it a Pet Peeve, because that is just something that kind of rubs you the wrong way, but doesn't really make you extremely angry.

Last week one of my roommates had one of her guy friends over. I talked with them a bit, and he seemed nice enough, though not exactly the type that I could really hit it off with, if you know what I mean. (Which is to say, he was very not nerdy.) So they continue chatting while I go over to my usual end of the couch with the lamp and start reading. He's kind of on his way out--they're gradually getting closer to the door while conversation continues--when they get on the subject of their aspirations, etc. and my roommate admitted that what she really wants to do is write for children.

"Oh," says her friend, "thats easy." He made a motion like he was just scribbling something really fast. "I mean, you just... you know?"

This is far from the first time someone has made a similar suggestion to/in front of me when someone admits to aspirations in childrens literature--either writing or illustration. Its hard for me to believe that they don't realize how utterly tactless, and of course wrong, they are. (How would you like me to say in a sort of brush-of way that your major sounds easy?) But what is also hard for me to believe is that, knowing how unthinking and common, etc., this thinking is, I still become, like, swellingly angry whenever someone makes this kind of comment. But, probably fortunately, I am not a person who yells, or even one who shows much emotion or says much of anything. So when my roommates friend says that writing childrens books is "easy", its only inside that I'm screaming,"EASY? Yeah, well you know what ELSE is EASY? JUMPING OFF A CLIFF IS EASY. So why don't you do the world a favor and go DO that. And be sure to aim for those SHARP ROCKS AT THE BOTTOM. And by the way I've decided to HATE YOU FOR ETERNITY." But while I'm thinking this, I'm still apparently calmly reading, though they probably never noticed that I've stopped moving my eyes over the page, or turning pages.

I waited for my mostly-suppressed explosion until after he was out the door, which was fortunately not long after.
"How can he not know how utterly tactless that was? Not to mention entirely wrong," I said.
"What was?" asked Annie, who had entered just as I said this. I told her what he said, and how this has happened to me several times before, and how it always makes me see red, but I never, ever say anything. So in a very small way it is my fault, for not correcting this thinking when I encounter it, right?
"Well, kind of," Annie said, "I'm not saying that that kind of thinking shouldn't be corrected, but really, I think it's better that you don't say anything when you're as angry as all that. And I know it's hard, but you should probably try to get used to the fact that you're going to keep encountering this kind of thinking and you should try and just let it roll over you, or you're going to keep getting angry about something you have no control over."
And of course she's right, but that doesn't make it any easier.

Letter of Intent.

I don't want to write it. I don't know how to write it. I wish I had known about this earlier. I guess it is my fault, but they also conveniently and completely failed to mention it when they went over the requirements for the BFA Application. They mentioned basically everything except the letter of intent, I think.

So thats why I'm writing it now, when it is due tomorrow. Or rather not writing it now, because I don't know what to say. Or, most specifically, how to start.

I'm missing dance for this?

I have to get into the Illustration BFA program. That is what will make it all worth it. I need to keep telling myself this.

Besides, there is still August.

*headache*

Thumb drive Nightmare

I haven't really put up any entries lately, but thats because so much has been going on. And I haven't had a whole lot to say. But I guess I could tell you all about my thumb drive nightmare, because it was pretty exciting.

Our most recent project in my Intermediate Computer Applications (for Artists) class was to illustrate a fairy tale together--my teacher found a fairy tale and divided it into 20 sections and each of us chose/was assigned a section to illustrate. We needed to do a good job on these, because the whole story with our illustrations would be put up in the Juvelile section of the library.

I worked very hard on my illustration. My normal tendency would have been to procrastinate a bit more (though not until the last minute! I'm not that bad!) but since I'd never really used photoshop (the program we were required to do it in) and the picture would be on display I wanted it to be my best work. So from the day I knew which part of the fairy tale I would be working on I started work on my picture.

The day before the picture was due I had some problems saving it onto my thumbdrive, which had never really given me any significant problems before. I kept getting an error message telling me that there was not enough space on the drive. I ended up deleting all old/obsolete files, e-mailing the important ones to myself, and deleting an uneeded layer of my picture before it would finally save. Doing all this took time that I would have been in my D&C class.

Fortunately, mom was visiting that day. After hearing a long tearful account of my thumbdrive woes, she took me to the computer section of the bookstore and got me a new, bigger thumb drive. Halelujah, I thought.

So the next day I moved all my files from my old thumb drive to my new one. Most of them I still had in the form of e-mail attachments, except, of course, my fairy tale illustration file, which is like ten times to big to be attached to any normal e-mail.

The next day I planned to watch the George Pratt demonstration. I went to the HFAC early and worked in the computer lab to put the finishing touches on my illustration before printing it to be hung that night. When the demonstration was going to start, I saved the file and went up to watch the demonstration, but it turned out not to be in the place I thought it was going to be. Rather than wander around, I went back to the computer lab to finish my illustration.

It wouldn't open.

It kept giving me an error message:"This file was created in a different version of photoshop and cannot be opened on this computer." A different version of photoshop? No way! I was sitting at the exact same computer I had just saved it from less than twenty minutes before!

Well, long story short, the file had become corrupted. And I had backups of all of my other, less important files, but not that one, not the one that was due in a few hours. I tried whatever I could think of to recover the file--opening it on a differend computer, in a different program, anything... nothing.

So I started over.

But I only had a couple hours, and the illustration didn't look presentable in the least. Since I had done the whole picture before and figured out the program in the process I got much further than I would have done, but even so, the illustration looked... bad.

So in class that night I told my teacher what had happened and, fortunately she was very understanding about the whole situation. She told me that I had until the next Friday to have something up.

A week. I could finish again in a week.

I won't go into all the details of how it happened, but in trying to recover my original illustration file, the one that I had started new with ended up getting ruined. So I had to start over again over again.

And I swear the new thumb drive mom got me hates Mac programs, because it ruined my Indesign File, as well as both Photoshop ones. So I have another thumbdrive, and I'm saving all my files on BOTH, as well as e-mailing them when possible, to prevent another nightmare like this from happening.

So yesterday I finally got the illustration up with the others. And it looks.... not very good. Especially when I compare it to the piece that I was actually able to put the time into. But I did learn my lesson with this.... NEVER TRUST YOUR THUMB DRIVE.

Bad Day at Work

So yesterday was pretty awesome. Today... was not. Well, today was actually pretty OK until I got to work.

Ok, so maybe I'm a wimp, but work today was NOT HAPPY.

First, I did not have breakfast this morning and had only a quick small bowl of granola before dashing to work. I had a steadily growing headache throughout work, maybe from lack of food or stress or both. And I had a bruised knee--I don't know where the bruise came from. This wouldn't be so bad except for shelving books on the lower shelves is usually made easier by kneeling down, and even if I didn't put pressure on the knee its one of those bruises that hurts when you just bend your knee.

And it turns out that my supervisor wasn't there. She hadn't mentioned to me that she would be gone, but maybe she's sick or something. (Along with failing to mention she might be gone, she also failed to mention why :-).

Supervisor Gone. This means that for all but the first hour of my shift I'm the only employee in the childrens book section to help customers find stuff. And shelve things. And oh, my were there things to shelve. There were 4 v-carts(http://www.handtruckdistributor.com/800_V-CART+BOOKS_S.jpg) filled with books (double stacked) waiting for me when I got to work. I shelved all the books on one of them and took the empty v-cart to the back room, to find that another big cart had just come up from recieving, nearly all of it childrens books. So I filled up my v-cart, and another as well, and decided the rest of the books would just have wait in the back room, so there.

So I'm shelving like a madwoman and helping ALL the customers in the childrens section (usually more than half would be handled by my supervisor, who usually stays at the desk and therefore they go find and ask her) when the Full Time lady who works in the Religious Book section comes with a customer.

"Where is the Eclipse book?"
I told her where they should be. Then the customer asked her, and then she asked me, which book was the second in the Twilight series. I had never realized until that moment that I didn't know. (I know Twilight is first and Breaking Dawn is last, but I don't know if Eclipse or New Moon comes first. Well, I didn't then. Now I know its Eclipse, then New Moon... I think. Actually, I've forgotten already. *facpalm*)

When I admitted that I did not know which book was the second in the series the Religious Book Full-Time lady gave me a YOU ARE A VERY BAD PERSON (Who Hired This Idiot?) Look. "You work in this section," she said, looking disgusted, complete with wrinkled nose and tightly-pressed lips. "You should know these things."

So then I felt like an idiot and a Bad Employee. And also very frustrated and defensive--I've never before been asked what order the books go in (all the squeeing fangirls seem to know it already), I've never been told its something I have to know, and anyway, I Hate Those Books. (My hatred of those books has only increased after working in a bookstore. Gah.)

A bit later a guy comes looking for a boxed set of the Twilight books. The computer says we should have six in the store, which is usually a safe number. (One is a Very Unsafe number. If the computer says we only have one copy of a book, that just means probablyhopefullymaybe we have it.)

So the computer says there are six in the store. I look on all the shelves where we keep the Twilight books... we have all the books individually, and special editions, and books on CD, but no boxed sets. I went to the General Book desk to ask the Full Time Worker there if she knew where they were. Her answer was very clipped and impatient, with a definite edge of "You should know these things yourself... who hired this idiot?" To it. Heading back to look again at the Twilight Shelves I ran into one of the general book student employees and asked her if she knew where they were. She, at least, was very helpful, and even kind of took over the customer for me so I could get back to shelving.

So I'm trying to shelve the Massive Piles of Unshelved Books crowding around the Childrens Book Information Desk, dealing with a headache and a painful knee, helping all customers doing their Christmas Shopping both in person and on the phone, feeling rather stressed when Religious Book Lady comes back with another customer. I was on the phone helping a customer, but she waited loomingly while I finished up the call.

"You have all the v-carts in the whole book department at your desk. You just can't do that, others need the carts too. You can bring one of the big shelving carts back here or something, but you have to make some v-carts avaliable for everyone else to use," she said, leaving almost before I answered her with a very timid "Okay."

I'd forgotten that most of the v-carts were upstairs on the textbook floor, being used for textbook sellback this week. But the other general book employees in the backroom had seemed totally fine with me using the v-carts.

Bring a big shelving cart back to the childrens desk? Was she blind? I wouldn't want to have to maneuver it all the way through the shelves to get it back there, and there would be absolutely no room to get through to the cook books with another shelving cart at the desk.
I chose the v-cart that seemed to have the least number of books and squished and balanced them as well as I could onto the (very small) shelving cart we keep by the childrens desk. I dashed around shelving and helping customers and got another cart empty and brought it to the backroom. The cart I had emptied before was still sitting there, and another one I hadn't been using was next to it. I had all the v-carts in the department and everyone else needed to use them? Liar. I am stressed enough with finals, thank you, it would be much nicer if I could not stress about work too.

Well, anyway... the rest of my shift continued in much the same vein. Then the girl who works in childrens book after I do was ten minutes late, as opposed to her usual five minutes early, which I was kind of counting on. Well...she was not a full ten minutes late, but since she immidiately got busy doing helpful things I didn't actually see her until ten minutes after my shift was supposed to end.

So, yeah. Bad Day At Work.

Customer Service--complaints

There was a training meeting for work this morning. So not only did I have to get up way early (well, compared to when I usually get up) to be there on time, it has now left me feeling guilty and frustrated. But mostly frustrated.

We talked about customer service at the meeting. The store has started this new program thingy they call "secret shoppers". Basically, they hire (I'm actually not sure whether they're paid...) people to shop here and report back on what they thought of the customer service.

Basically, the General Book department has gotten some very bad reviews. No names were named, but they read off some of the comments. Some of them were things of which I was guilty--like focusing on shelving books when there was a customer in the area, telling them I couldn't tell them whether we carried the book they wanted unless they could tell me a title or author... things like that. I felt very bad, because I really should and can do better. And I will.

But the secret shoppers comments are not an extremely accurate representation of the customer service in our department in general, in my opinion. Firstly, usually they're in there just to do the secret shopper thing and so they're not actually looking for any specific book. So instead of saying "I'm looking for A Certain Book by So-And-So" they'll just say, "Do you have any books about Random Subject?" And the problem is, the computer program we use to look up books in our computer doesn't have a subject search. Apparently there were alot of complaints when secret shoppers asked if we had a book on a certain subject and we told them, completely honestly, that they would have to give us a title or author, or even just a word of the title, for us to find anything specific.

But thats when the secret shopper actually gets to the desk with a question, which they don't always. Again, because they're not really looking for anything specific, they'll just hang around in the area, browsing, waiting to see if anyone will ask them if they're looking for something specific--which they're not. The vast majority of the times I've asked a customer if they need help finding something when they're just hanging around in the area, they'll just say, "No, I'm just browsing." I've even had some who seem annoyed with me for asking. I admit I've kind of slacked off on asking them because of this and because I've found that when people are actually looking for something specific they don't just hang around, glancing over the shelves. They will actually go find a desk or someone with a lanyard on and ask them for what they want. (Wow, what a novel idea.)

And lastly, just so I can have three things, these secret shoppers seem to be coming in to look for anything that is bad/wrong. So of course they find it.

End of rant.