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?

and then I lost my phone

Today was a happy day.

Note, I said a happy day, not a good day.
Isn't that the same thing, you ask?
Not really, at least in this case.

Today was very normal, overall. I went to work, made some progress on my current project. Went to class (Womens Lit), talked about cool stuff. Next class (Senior English Course--wait, you're not an English major, you say. Well, so what, I say. Anyway, I'm just auditing it. I'll have to tell all two of you blog readers about it sometime, its a pretty interesting class.) Talked about cool stuff again.

Next class was sketchbook. I drew pictures. I tried out my new brush pens, which are awesome. Sketchbook has been a kinda weirdly hard class for me so far.

Wait, what? Sketchbook, hard? Don't you just go and draw pictures the whole time? Yes. I have... a kind of interesting relationship with my sketchbook, and with sketching, which I've really come to realize more lately since my two illustration classes are Sketchbook and Head Painting--very different.

TANGENT. I keep meaning to take pictures of my paintings and sketches to post on my art blog. And I keep forgetting when I'm at school, and I remember when I'm at home and my pictures aren't. Blah. END TANGENT.

Anyway, long story short, in sketchbook class I've been experimenting with different sketching media because pens just aren't fun, and I really am loving the brush pens. I got the idea to use them because I've been having SO MUCH fun in head painting DESPITE the fact that we use no color, or even white paint for that matter. Paint just works so much better with how I think than pen does. Its not as.... stiff. Brush pens unite the convenience of a pen with the looseness and real-estate-covering qualities of a brush. Which makes Sarah happy.

So while I'm having all this fun with my new brush pens my phone decides that it wants a bit of sunlight so it sneaks out of my pocket and then, not satisfied with just getting some sunshine, decides to play hide-and-seek too. So far, its winning.

And then class ended early so we could eat before going down to the guest artist lecture by the awesome Jillian Tamaki. I'm really glad I went, it was overall a very interesting and encouraging lecture, and I had maybe a smallish epiphany as a result. Epiphanies of every size are happifying.

Also, today I wore one of my favorite outfits. Mom/Aunt Allisons old couduroy paisleyish jumper with pockets. I love jumpers with pockets, and paisleyish things.

So I would call today a happy day, not a good one. Because it really was just a normal day. And I lost my phone, which is very not good, because I actually really need to use it. But... I just felt happy anyway. Despite the fact (or because?) I lost my phone.

Also, happy talk like a pirate day, world. Despite being made aware of the holiday before even going out the door this morning, I failed to celebrate it in its traditional way. And was happy anyway.

Grin and Bear It

I haven't really blogged in awhile. I've really fallen out of the habit of blogging.

The other day something reminded me of an old blog entry I'd written, and I decided to go back and find it. I ended up looking over a bunch of old blog entries. I'd for gotten how often I'd written, and how much. I wrote in more than one blog, too. And, even if I do say it myself--some of my blog posts were really entertaining. I ended up laughing out loud when I read a few of them.

I made alot of good new habits on my mission, but I think I lost some good ones too.

I'd like to get back into the habit of blogging. I never really had a schedule before, I just wrote when I had a thought I wanted to throw out of a funny story to share. I'd like to try and see if I can get back into that habit again... if it doesn't work, I may set a more specific schedule for myself.

This is connected to a thought thats been rolling around in the back of my head (which I just posted as my facebook status). It is this: activities where I've learned to get over my mistakes and have fun are those that I've improved most in and bring me the most joy--art and dancing. Those that I still have a hard time getting over my mistakes in I haven't improved in and tend to avoid--specifically, speaking and writing.

What started me thinking about this was a little thing, really. In one of my classes I made a comment that didn't make much sense. It was actually a really dumb comment. I got some raised eyebrows and chuckles and the class discussion moved on. Nobody else in the class probably remembers my dumb comment, at least not very specifically. But all day afterward and into the next, I kept remembering the mistake and wincing. Why did I say such a dumb thing?

In dancing I am very aware of the fact that I'm not great, sometimes I slip or don't follow an obvious lead or, yes, step on someones toes, and thats just how the dance goes, and I laugh and keep dancing. After years of participating in art critiques, I'm pretty good at not getting offended at comments, instead just taking them as they're meant, analyzing them, and then applying those that I feel will actually be helpful--all without getting all hurt and offended.

Actually, I think this was one of the biggest reasons that I chose to major in Art rather than English (which, when it really comes down to it, are the only two majors I really considered--I can't see myself actually majoring an anything else.) I enjoy both. But I knew that I would have a much harder time accepting critiques of my writing than of my art, and would therefore have an easier time in art. Did I choose the easy way out? Maybe in this specific aspect of the choice. Overall, I don't think so. I chose the one where I knew I would be better able to learn from my mistakes.

Is that strange? It seems like someone should either be good at getting over any mistake, or not. You're either prideful, or not. I guess people aren't that simple.

Anyway. So I want to get back to writing a blog again, just as a way to do a little low-pressure writing.

Farmers Market

This week was my first time actually going out and selling my artwork in person--I've sold art online, but not really face-to-face with potential buyers. It was a great experience! My main goal first off was just to get the experience, to get an idea of what to expect with this sort of thing in order to do it better in the future. Goal achieved---huzzah!

I learned some things that are maybe obvious to some people, but are new to me, and hopefully helpful in future. Some of them are:

• -People aren't just going to line up to give you their money (duh). You have to catch their interest first. This can be a problem when your art is the you-only-get-it-when-you-look-again (upside-down) kind.
• -Clouds are one of those good-or-bad, awesome-or-terrible things when you're selling outside. They either mean rain (no!) or shade (yes!). Fortunately, we had the shade kind of clouds for most of the day.
• -People like to buy things when they have a 'thing'. Like, some people have a cat thing, or a book thing, or a dancing thing, or a mustache thing, or something. This is why fanart sells... and also why people get in trouble for selling fanart. I want to figure out some "things" that people like that are NOT trademarked and design things they might like.
• -I sell like a missionary, and so does Normandie. We tended to focus alot more on the person than the product. Which lead to some fun conversations, but I have no idea whether things would sell better if we had focused otherwise. So far, I've enjoyed using my missionary conversation skills so I'll stick with that for now :-)
• -Sitting/standing around and doing nothing except greet people is tiring. 
• -You don't know if something will sell well just because you like it. You just have to see how people respond when they see your work, and notice what catches their eye. It might not be what you think.

This I Believe essay

For my Writing about Arts and Humanities class, we had to write a "this I believe" essay. These are essays collected and published by http://thisibelieve.org about (of course) peoples beliefs. Here is my essay--though imperfect, I'm mostly happy with how it turned out, and I feel that I was at least able to communicate my belief clearly.

Sketchbooks and Stick Figures

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We’ve all experienced hundreds of getting-to-know-you conversations. We all know the questions you’re supposed to ask. What’s your name? Where are you from? And for me and most of my peers, this next one is inescapable:

What’s your major?

Illustration, I answer.

Oh, Illustration, they say. Is that, like, art?

Yes, I confirm, Illustration is art.

Wow, they say. I can’t even draw a stick figure. You must be really talented.

After participating in variations of this conversation hundreds of times, it’s really got me thinking. What do they mean by that last comment—“You must be really talented”? Sometimes it seems like an explanation, or even an excuse, for being good at something.

I do believe that there is such a thing as talent—raw natural ability in a certain area. What is strange to me about the comment “You must be really talented” is that, in the end, I don’t feel that talent has very much to do with my success as an artist. Talent, or raw natural ability, is just that—raw, unrefined, and untried. Even a person that apparently doesn’t have talent can excel beyond someone who does—if they invest the required time and effort.

So, you can’t even draw a stick figure. This doesn’t prove that you’re not talented and could never do “good” art. It simply shows that you haven’t spent much time drawing stick figures—yet. You could, though. And you could get really good at it, given enough time. This is why artists carry sketchbooks.

I first learned the value of sketchbooks from my high school art teacher. Every week she would collect our sketchbooks, not to critique them, but to make sure that we were drawing, observing, and recording ideas constantly. “You don’t have to show your sketchbook to anyone if you don’t want to,” she’d say. “This is where you mess up and make mistakes. It’s where you think. It’s where you learn. It’s not to show off how talented you are to anyone else.” Through sketchbooking I learned how much time and effort is required to produce good art. The merely talented who aren’t constantly sketching get left by the wayside. Artists succeed because, even when they’re not in front of a canvas with brushes in hand, the have a sketchbook that they carry everywhere.

Believing in effort over talent is extremely liberating—just think about it. I really can do, and be, and accomplish anything I want, provided that I am willing to put in enough time and effort. And so can you. Your hopes of what you want do and be and accomplish can be realized, if you are ready to do what it takes. Try it—invest a little time and effort. I believe in you.

an odd thought

So I just had an odd thought while doing my Judaism reading, but it isn't a very complete one, if that makes sense. But it makes sense to me as far as it goes, and I rather feel like sharing it for a few reasons, the main one perhaps most easily said through the bromide of "two heads are better than one"--I'm interested in your thoughts on my Random Odd Thought.

As I said, this thought occured to me while I was doing reading for my Judaism and the Gospel class. How it came to me was this: I was reading an article which, in short, said "This is the way things were done". Then I got to the next section of the article, which was attempting to answer (or simply discussing the question of)--Why?

Why? All the way through the article up to that point I hadn't really thought to ask this question. What was being said made sense with what I knew and had read elsewhere, and the question of why things were that way hadn't really occured to me. In the back of my mind, almost far enough back that I didn't fully realize I was having this thought, came the words: Why (heh) didn't you ask why? The article seems to assume that readers should be asking this question. Almost before I realized I was asking myself this question, the answer arrived almost right on top of it. Because you're not a person who asks why. You're a person who asks how.

This answer is what brought the original mostly-subconcious train of thought to the front of my mind. But it made sense to me. Some people ask why--the most obvious group to point out would be scientists, or people who think like scientitsts. Instead, I ask how. This question is a bit less inquisitive and more active, it seems. Though the questions are really very similar--if you ask why something happens you will usually get a very similar answer to the question of how something happens--but its the feeling behind them that is different.

And then I was thinking, what if we all have our different questions? To some who? is more important, to others, why? where? what? when? or how?.

I rather liked this odd thought as it occured to me, but I also have this feeling that it...isn't complete. So I come to my blog readers. Do you have any thoughts on my thought?

(My computer crashed during the writing of this entry. My first frustrated thought wasn't, why did this happen? but rather how do I keep this from happening again?. And then I thought about it, and laughed to myeself.)