Whinging 2

You whine, you moan, you play a little Diablo... and then you get on with your life--and it's quietly good. I had the Holiday Fair wrap-up meeting this morning. I turned in my expenses, my write-up, gave a report and made recommendations for next year, and I'm done--for the year and maybe for next year too. We'll see. Then I taught an Intro to Kiln-forming Glass II class. After that, off to the optometrist with J, followed by a visit to City Hall to pay for my business license--that whole experience left a very bad, corrupted taste in my mouth, at the end of which I just moved on. Whatever.

In all, the day was varied, full, and satisfying in a gentle, non-flashy way. I was approached about maybe helping make a project with the 8th grade students for the school auction in the spring, and I jumped on it (it sounds way cool). As a result, I had the personal and professional satisfaction of seeing the stunned gratitude on the teacher's face when I said sure I'd do it, and no, it wouldn't cost anything--I'd donate my time and the materials. She hugged me, and that made my day.

Has anything really changed since yesterday? No. Are there still parts of my business life I think I seriously need to overhaul? Absolutely. But I put together the schedule for the Intro to Beadmaking I, II and III classes through March today, and I'll do the same for the Intro to Kiln-forming classes tomorrow. Tomorrow I'll also write a newsletter. I'll start on a new website, and eventually I'll plan an artist open house in the spring (early summer--after the manuscript is due) and skip a holiday show that has to compete with everything else going on in the few, short weekends between Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Now I've had a lovely dinner with a good friend and her children (Dave is in Austin), and It's time to go to bed so I can be in court at 8:00 am tomorrow, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, to deal with the farce that is the course of my Atlanta City business license process.

The Times They Need To Be A-Changing

Today has been a very frustrating day. I have been pinged and dinged and beaten down since 8:30 this morning. It seems like everyone wants something, wants money, wants time, wants extensions, wants exceptions, wants special treatment from me, or can't pay me, or something else that leaves me feeling marginalized, undervalued, and under-appreciated. Back in March I wrote that we don't do what we do for the money, and I still believe that to be true. The following paragraph from that post hit me especially hard today:

When we start thinking about how much we're making for our work compared to how much we're working and we begin to feel resentful, it's not about the money--however much we might say it is--it's about the work. Something about the work is not or is no longer meeting our needs. The answer really isn't to ask for a raise. More money for the same work environment is a short term sop that initially makes us feel more self-worth but doesn't address the real problem. The real problem is either that the negative aspects of the job or the job environment outweigh the positives and leave us feeling down at the end of the day, or that we have intrinsic self-worth issues that keep us from being fulfilled and validated external to the job.

In my case, my self-esteem is just fine, but my job has evolved into management and ownership in the most non-creative of ways. When I get the opportunity to create, I throw myself completely into the experience--as in the Bullseye conference workshop on manual 3-D printing earlier this year, or the fall Advanced Beginning Weaving workshop I took in New Hampshire in October. I love those times and I am energized and excited again by what I Do--whether or not I make any money from it. Even the Waldorf Holiday Fair (though Dave will never believe it) was very satisfying for me in spite of the extreme hard work, high level of responsibility, and complete lack of remuneration.

Today's tasks--dealing with the City of Atlanta Department of Revenue (again) over my business license issue, managing orders which were/are delayed, calling customers about paying their invoices that have been past due for over 180 days, filling out and mailing payroll tax forms, and appealing a water bill that was four times higher than it should have/ever has been--were almost more than I could bear. But the real cherry on the top of the day was answering phone calls and emails from the never-ending stream of people who purchased our class deal through Living Social last November and waited until the last minute to try to schedule a class before the deal expires on November 24 ("Well it didn't say I couldn't wait till the last minute! How do I get a refund?"). I have quadrupled our class offerings to try to fit everyone in, and I extended the expiration to the end of January, and yet I *still* feel harangued and like they think I'm trying to cheat them. At one point I looked at my Mom with despair (sometimes you've just got to have your Mom around, and I'm very lucky that mine lives with us), and she sympathetically said to me, "Let's run away to Greece." I was sorely tempted.

So what to do? Well, my first step was to cancel this year's Siyeh Sleigh Ride. I have not been looking forward to it, I have been viewing it as an obligatory millstone around my neck--something I *should* do. I am also re-evaluating doing the Buyer's Market show in February--I have three days to cancel. Christine, the excellent former show director, is no longer with the Rosen Group, Wendy Rosen is absorbed by her bid for a Congressional seat, and her daughter Rebecca, who has taken over the show, is an unknown quantity to me. My one exposure to Rebecca was a few years ago when she tried to have a world handcrafts show run concurrently with the Buyer's Market of American Craft. This idea did not fill me with confidence that she understands what it means to be a North American artisan buying North-American-made materials, paying North American production costs, wages, insurance, mortgage/rent, cost of living, etc., and having to compete against third-world wages and cost of living. Yes, it might have been a great idea for boosting buyer attendance numbers--less costly goods are always good for buyers, but it didn't show her to be behind the idea of building up an awareness and appreciation for fine North American-made (and all that that label entails) craft. Would it have been good for their main supporters and the reason for the show--the American and Canadian artisans who have been exhibiting there for almost 30 years? No.

Canceling the sleigh ride and re-evaluating my one remaining wholesale show feel like the baby-steps to bigger changes. If I am not Doing It for the money--and we should all be clear by this point that I am not--then I need to be more true to doing the It that gives me joy, makes my heart sing, and doesn't make me feel a drudge. Guess it's time to shake things up a bit.

Whinging

Not drinking anything, not listening to anything either... I'm clearly in a slump. No, I am slumping something in the kiln, but I am not, myself, in a slump. (Can you tell we have had my uncle the punster staying with us for the past several days?) I promised pictures of Ed's and Susan's first kiln-formed pieces today, but they will have to wait till tomorrow when they are finished slumping.

Today was another transitional day for me. Because it was Ed and Susan's last day, I took them to a late breakfast, then they helped me unload the minivan from the holiday fair, then we visited a little... and then it was time to go to the airport. When I got back I defied popular opinion on Facebook and played Diablo for awhile (I picked up a saved game from three years ago... I really don't get out much).

Now I post and stubbornly put off thinking about the Siyeh Studio website, the newsletter, my court date Thursday, kicking the book into gear, orders, shipping, bills, and Dave going to Austin for three days tomorrow--leaving me to the dreaded single-parenthood (and the Waldorf lantern walk). Really. I'm not thinking about them At All. I am aiming for limbo and the perfect float in time. My aim is terrible, and I dread the resurgence in importance of tasks that have been on the to-do list for weeks (months), but which were relegated to obscurity by the all-consuming holiday fair. Now I no longer have an excuse for avoiding them, and I really am not looking forward to the next few days.

Ah well, enough whinging. Off to bed and bright, shiny, early day tomorrow.

Endings

The weekend comes to an end. The visit from my uncle and Susan comes to and end. The Holiday Fair and my Viking Tales have ended. It's time to transition into thinking about the holidays, and to focus back on glass and glass business. Tomorrow. It's time to do that tomorrow. For tonight I am thinking of nothing. I have no projects, no plans, no duties. I am trying very hard to just rest in the me and the moment. I am not entirely successful.

Like Ellen, I am having a hard time posting right now. Part of it is probably because there is not much of interest to anyone but me in the lint in my navel--which is about all I have resting in the me and the moment. Sadly the lack of projects, obligations and deadlines did not stop me from a wakeful semi-anxious hour in the middle of the night last night, and I can feel another one coming on tonight. I had the hardest time trying to convince my subconscious that there really wasn't anything triggering a dark anxiety attack, and I I am bummed that I feel it lurking again tonight.

I really am not very good with the transition between projects/balls-to-the-wall activity. When I am in the throes of a Big Project, I yearn for a time of rest and a cessation of activity with all my being. But when it comes, I twiddle my thumbs and think, "Now what?" The only good answer to that question is one of the chocolate chip cookies Dave and Jessie made today, but I think we took them all to Jessie's cello recital this afternoon. Darn, I could really use some anxiety-repelling chocolate about now.

Tomorrow, before and after pictures of the kiln-formed pieces Ed and Susan made in their lesson in the studio today.

A Day of Rest Cometh

There would have been some wonderful red wine in a Riedel stemless glass introducing this post, but Dave took the last of it. My background music is the sound of family desultorily chatting after a big dinner and movie. The Waldorf Holiday Fair is over for another year, and 257 people came through the Viking Tales event earning an etched and fused glass rune stone (handmade by moi). My feet are up (my dogs are a' barking!) and I am even considering heading to bed. Heck, I'm over considering. I'm off. More tomorrow.

Oh Fudge...

I forgot to post again last night! Between holiday fair prep, teaching at the studio, and company in from out of town (this week my uncle and his girlfriend) I completely forgot. I am not so good at NaBloPoMo. However I am *very* good at holiday fair prep! Tomorrow there will be pictures--maybe even a movie.

The activity begins with a journey through the time before time in viking mythology. Back when neither our world, nor the universe, nor the stars existed. There was only Nifflheim, the world of ice, Muspleheim, the world of fire, and the Ginnungagap, the great void between. You navigate the stalactites and fog in Nifflheim, the eerie black lighting of the Ginnungap, and the roaring flames of Muspleheim before arriving at the great giant Ymir from whose body came our world, Midgard, the universe and the stars in the heavens. After you pass under the legs of the great Ymir, the next part of your adventure begins.

In part two, you help Odin and Loki as they repay a debt. You gather gold from the dwarf's treasure at the base of the waterfall and you carry it around the corner to where you place it on an otter's pelt. Odin and Loki's task is to completely cover the otter's pelt. As a reward for your help, you receive a glass rune stone. You reach into a velvet bag and take a stone, and the guardian will tell you the meaning of your rune.

Okay, I am officially exhausted and heading off to rest up for a full day tomorrow....

On a Schedule

My post is being timed tonight as there are only so many minutes left of battery-life in the laptop, and Dave is using the communal power cord right now. I take this as a challenge, and I am up to it. Unfortunately, nothing is likely to save me from a boring recital of a post. What can I say? One can't scintillate everyday.

It is a sad commentary on life when the most difficult part of the preparation for the Waldorf Holiday Fair is the making of the glass rune stones. The stencils were interminable to prepare--for Dee anyway; I was ensconced with hot chai and snoring dogs. Then today the etching was just as teeth-gnashing as the last person to use the sandblaster blew a hole in the hose, tried a quick duct-tape fix, and didn't bother to tell me about it. Then I used a bit of spray adhesive as an additional hold for the stencil, and the adhesive was almost impossible to blast off. Dee had been concerned about the age and stickiness of the stencils, but when I finally gave up on the spray in exasperation, the stencils adhered just fine to the glass without it. And the glass was a heck of a lot easier to clean up. Lesson learned.

Tomorrow and Friday I teach intro to kiln-forming classes (the piece at right is a student piece from one of last week's classes, pre-firing), and Friday is also the set-up for the Holiday Fair (I got a fog machine for Nifflheim today. Whoo hoo.) Tomorrow I also head back to Dee's so she can cut all the runes for me on her fancy schmancy tile saw with the super blade. Licha is coming down to the studio to do roll-ups in the morning--I hope Tadashi gets the slabs in tonight as I have been out of the loop on that one and I have not seen him yet.

Okay, time's up, brain's empty--off to bed.

Thankful For Friends

A cup of Indian Spice Chai in a hand-made, blue-glazed pottery mug, and the sounds of dogs who are not mine snoring for my posting music. One of them (Chloe) snores *really* loudly. (How's that, Bill? Were ya missing the intro? :-)

Because I like having pictures in my post, I am putting up this one of the studio chicks and buns. Both bunnies and all the chickens except Sundust are in the picture, eating in harmony. We haven't had any eggs yet (from either chicks or buns), and Dave thinks maybe the bunnies are eating them. I don't think it works that way, but who knows? All I can say is those chickens better get pulling their weight and laying those eggs or Dave may start making stew.

Day 2 of my cold/flu/whatever, and day 8 of NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month--not as much fun as National Chocolate Eater's Day, but we take what we can get). I am at Dee's cozied up in chair with my hot chai and a warm cinnamon roll while she makes the stencils for the runes for the Holiday Fair for me. Well, she will be making the stencils for me. Right now we are still debating final size and techniques needed to get there. I think it's time to give up on putting channels in them and making it so they can be either stones or pendants. These are going to be stones. Rune Stones.

There is not much going on in the glass studio this week. Orders continue to trickle in--mostly for Todd--and I am teaching both Thursday and Friday, but in general we are enjoying a slow season. Some might not enjoy a slow season. Some might lament the lack of pre-holiday season rush. Some are not me. I revel in my current lack of speed--and not just because I am sick. Maybe now I will finally get the Siyeh Studio website back up, and the newsletter out, and the planning started for the annual Siyeh Sleigh artist open house starting Dec 3.

Or maybe I'll just go back to napping.

Let Me Explain...

I didn't post yesterday. It was the sixth day of NaBloPoMo, and I meant to post, I had things I wanted to write, my dog didn't eat my homework, but I got sick instead. Really.

Yesterday was my favorite day of the year--the day the clocks fall back and we get an extra hour to sleep in. Sadly for me, I started coming down with a cold the night before and had a very rough night trying to sleep and only partially succeeding at it. I dragged myself out of bed for the final time about 9:00 am to get ready to host the final parent workday before the Waldorf Holiday Fair. I felt so crappy and tired that I could barely focus on what needed to be done.

Turnout for the aforementioned workday was pretty much limited to the faithful friends, but we still managed to patch and paint the paper mache giant Ymir, weight and paint the paper mache stalagmites, dry and finish painting the gold, paint the treasure chest, hang and touch-up the stalactites, and drill and paint the Muspleheim floor. There is still a bit left for me to do this week, but in the interests of not stressing my spouse out any more than he already is about my level of effort in the holiday fair, I will keep that list to myself.

The evening started with a last dinner with our extended family--Dave's parents and his sister all visiting from the north, my Mom, Dave Jessie and me. Dave made his special cassoulet, and it was excellent. But by 8:00 I was so exhausted I wasn't even sure if I had a name--much less was able to remember it. So I went upstairs to rest and post--and promptly fell asleep, thus ending my posting aspirations.

Today was spent on this post (really) and napping (the pets napped too). You can clearly see that napping got the bigger piece of the time pie. For once I let my body shut down and drift without complaint. Yes, my Inbox is still full, and it will be full tomorrow. But for today, I rested. And It Was Good!

A Full Day

Today was the busiest day the studio has ever seen--and Judy took the day off. Bad Judy! Actually, though we missed her, we did okay without her as there was no walk-in traffic and the phones were relatively quiet. It was still the busiest day, however, as I taught two full classes, Brian had two full bead-making classes, and Tadashi and Domenick had five glass blowing lessons/dates between them. That's all the people we can currently run through in a day. And they loved it, and many of them want to come back again and do more glass. And this is why I teach and have a teaching studio. I love the enthusiasm of the fresh beginner. I remember anew the fantastic feeling I got when I worked with glass for the first time and how I couldn't wait till I got to do it again.

It's kind of like falling in love. I remember when I met Dave and I was so in love with him, and I knew I'd marry him, and I was so extraordinarily happy but for one thing: I knew that as long as I loved him--and I couldn't (and still can't) imagine not loving him--I would never have that breathless feeling of falling in love again. I would never have the anxiety and the heights and the depths that come with new love. New love comes and consumes and terrifies and exhorts, and then it either skitters away, or calms down into something daily, deep and rich. Don't get me wrong. Daily, deep and rich are like swimming in dark chocolate--there is nothing better. But no matter how wonderful it is, you can't help but feel a twinge of longing for the knife-edged uncertainty and extreme sensation of New Love.

My relationship with glass is long and deep now. We are 24-year happily marrieds with all the complexity and comfort that that amount of time implies. I may temporarily lose myself in a new technique, or become entranced with a new color, but I know that I'll never again have the all-consuming obsession with glass that I did when I first met it.
And yet, when I teach a class, every now and then I see in someone else's face that fascination, that tactile lust for glass that I once felt, and I bask in the reflected glow of falling love all over again. Today was a day like that for me.

Now I curl up in bed next to my spouse. I feel the deep, warm comfort that comes from 16 wonderful years, and I know that somewhere else in Atlanta, someone is going to sleep alight with the fire of  New Love. New love for glass, to which I provided the introduction. And I am happy.

Happy Birthday Jessie!

Happy 10th Birthday Jessie Cordelia Kathleen Griffith! Yes, there was glass today, and there was glass business. But the biggest order of the day was the Sprout's birthday. All of her grandparents are here as is her aunt Jan. We had Nancy's thin crust pizza, champagne (J and the two friends she had over had eggnog), and old fashioned chocolate cake from Southern Sweets. The girls spent six hours making beaded platypi and duct tape and felt houses for them, and are now ensconced in front of a movie--making more platypi.

Besides the birthday preparations (and the ruana I managed to cut and sew from the wool fabric I wove in New Hampshire), I also picked up the 8-ft giant Ymir that I made with J's class on Wednesday. Here's a tip on paper mache: don't let the flour and water paste ferment before you use it. We had three gallons that wouldn't fit in the fridge and evidently there was a little feral yeast in the flour as the morning after we made it it was already bubbling up. I didn't think anything of it and used it with the kids. Their teacher was very glad that I got it out of the classroom today as it was beginning to smell like a brewery in there (and that's not as pleasant as you might think). My minivan might never be the same. Now Ymir rests in our garage till Sunday when we host another parent work day and I get some people to duct tape his joints up and to patch a few tears from moving him. Then we'll paint him white... or blue... or some other frost-giant-like color.

So was there glass done today? In a sense, yes. I started the day by appealing my $2,000 penalty for failure to file for a City of Atlanta business license. I used the grounds that the penalty is four times the tax and interest due which is inequitable, and that it would be a serious hardship from my small business to pay it and stay in business. My request was granted. Yea!!!

Judy prepared me for a big day in the studio tomorrow as she is taking the day off. Tomorrow I teach two full fusing classes, Brian teaches two full beadmaking classes, and we have five glass blowing dates/lessons scheduled too. Thank heaven my Mom is going to come in and help while Judy is gone. NO MORE SATURDAYS OFF FOR JUDY!

Now it is late and my spouse is snoring dulcetly next to me (really). Off to sleep and tomorrow, another day.

Night and Day

It's another late night posting. Everyone else is off to bed, and I am left with the dogs and the cat, and not an opposable thumb between them. There is a different feel to posting at night; a more melancholy reflective mood--or maybe that's just my general humor of late. Fall is my favorite season of the year. It's also always my busiest, and the one in which I am most likely to overdo. Between the start of school--and all of the volunteering opportunities it brings, Jessie's birthday, the holidays, and all the projects it's now cool enough to do, I tend to get over-committed and over-stimulated really easily. This year--the year of the Great Slow Down--I have been trying to pace myself more reasonably. Unfortunately the feedback from my family is that I am not succeeding and I am just as psychotic as I have been in every other over-committed moment in my life. Not what was either aiming or hoping for this year.

Finished laying tile in Dee's kitchen this morning and shipped the big order I fired yesterday. Tomorrow is Jessie's birthday and I have the ruana I wove for her to finish (the weaving is done, now it's time to turn the fabric into a garment). I also need to pick up the 8-ft tall paper mache giant I made with J's class on Wednesday and run a few errands. Then maybe I'll have the time and the focus to make headway on the monstrous to-do list I have been creating over the past few days--creating without taking any time to complete (and happily check-off) items.

Can't keep the eyes open any longer. Off to snuggle a spouse, if he'll have me.

Time Marches On

Day 2 of NaBloPoMo. At some point soon I will stop counting the days I post in my posts, but today is not that day. Today was a day for Holiday Fair meeting, giant Ymir wire armature creation, paper mache of said giant with the 4th grade (and didn't I send them all home covered in slightly-fermented flour, water, and salt paste), a kiln load for a big, urgent, glass order, and, finally, dinner and an evening with the newly-arrived in-laws.

Tomorrow it's back to Dee's to finish tiling, to the school to pick up the dry Ymir (they have no room in the classroom to keep an eight-foot tall giant for the next week and a half till the holiday fair), and back to the studio to ship the urgent glass order. Folded into that all will be the return of the book contract (yes, Bill, I have my big girl panties on and I'm done sniveling), a deposit, a couple of checks written (bills paid), and a drop-ship order submitted. If I were really optimistic I might add the start of a newsletter. I am not, however, so optimistic.

The in-laws are visiting. Fall is beautiful. I'll get to what I get to.

NaBloPoMo and Writing

If I don't post now I might miss the first day of NaBloPoMo!

I can't remember right now what I did today--it was a blur. There were accounts receivable to reconcile (and calls to make, and emails to send). There were bills to pay, taxes to file, and checks to receive (yay!). It was altogether a non-auspicious start-day for NaBloPoMo.

One thing I didn't do today--in fact I mentally blocked on it--was to print out, sign and fax/mail my book contract in. I appear to be dragging my feet. Why? Well, it's a HUGE commitment and I am a bit afraid of the impact it will have on my life. Didn't I just vow (sometime in the past few months) to slow down? Writing a 240 page book with all high-level subject matter is NOT slowing down. It will consume my life, my time, my business. Dave says it will be fine. He is fully behind me. Has he forgotten what the last book (half this size) was like? Is this like the masculine version of childbirth for him? It must be, otherwise he'd never be willing to do it again (and no one would either write books or have children and our species would become illiterate and die out--take your pick as to which would come first).

I am terrified of the impact this oeuvre will have on my and my family's lives. Right now--to be honest--I am sorry I ever brought it up. But I did. I brought it up and more. And now I have a contract for it and I need to sign it, send it back, put on my big-girl panties and get writing.

Here's to fortitude... (And I thought I didn't have anything to say!).

Happy Halloween!

Too exhausted to write much, but wanted to do a quick post on the day. Today saw me installing fused glass tile made by Dee in her kitchen. Due to a bit of a late start and very careful cutting and piecing around several electrical outlets we didn't get quite done and will need to finish tomorrow. Dan is also coming to the studio tomorrow to build another shelving unit from old Bullseye crates for the new 5 oz frit jars. Never a dull moment.

Tonight was Halloween and I handed out candy while finishing winding the warp for a birthday/Christmas gift of a chenille blanket. The person for whom I am making the blanket doesn't read this blog, but I'm not mentioning any names just to be safe.

Dave took J took a friend's neighborhood for trick-or-treating and she and her friends were all duct tape... somethings. I'm not sure what the intent was, but all three of them made their costumes by covering normal articles of clothing with duct tape. J also ratted her hair (first AND last time for that I'm betting as she was in tears by the time we were half way through brushing it out) and put dark blue (I didn't have black) eyeliner around one eye. Dave's comment was "My daughter evidently going trick-or-treating as "Grace Slick, 1979, face down in the gutter outside CBGBs".

Now it's time for bed. Tomorrow is the first day of NaBloPoMo and this year I'm going to do it!

Time Be Time

In the shower this morning I had, well not exactly an epiphany but close. When I was Jessie's age, time was measured in minutes--minutes till recess, minutes till dinner, minutes in a cartoon. The minutes (about 15) it took to walk to school took FOREVER. By high school minutes had ceded place of prominence to hours--a class period, hours till the end of the school day, hours till a party or a date. Neither of these statements is to say that days and weeks didn't count. The big events--summer vacation, Christmas, my birthday--were still anticipated weeks and days in advance, but the dominant measurement of the passing of time was the hour.

Sometime in my 20's--probably commensurate with leaving school and entering the Working World (entering at least for awhile before fleeing back to school) the class hour gave way to the work day and days began to shape life events--TGIF, I hate Mondays, Wednesday is hump day. There was also a vague grouping into weeks and months (never years unless in the past), but it remained firmly vague.

Side note: I *love* writing. I hated it when I was forced to do it on some else's schedule for class assignments and to conform to someone else's rules (grammar--smack my knuckles with a ruler). Now, the juxtaposition of the words "firmly" and "vague" actually gives me a little burst of satisfied happiness at having found just the right phrase. But time passes as I digress so let's get back to the passage of time.

Now, as I wander the other side of the fifty-year mark, I could care less about hours anymore (an hour, isn't that about the time it takes to sneeze and find the tissues?), and days have begun to clump into a week-shaped blob. In fact days only get recognized when I find or lose them. For instance, last week in my weaving class, on Thursday night as I was planning my last project, I was sure I had two days left to complete it--that it was, in effect, Wednesday night. I was not so lucky (hence working till 1:00 am Saturday). Other weeks I will be stressing because I think it's Wednesday, and then I realize it's only Tuesday, and the relief that floods my system along with the realization is almost intoxicating. Weekends are no longer the days Saturday and Sunday, they are a differential break in the rhythm of Monday through Friday (or not, depending on the studio's work load). Compare it to finding or losing a dollar at age nine to finding or losing $20 now...

A lot of the contemplation (in the shower, as I cleaned the lint out of my navel) that resulted in the post above, was triggered by the realization that I am 50, and 50 seems like a reasonable half-way point in life. The time it took to get here seemed comfortably long. But as my perception of time compresses, are the next 50 years going to rush by? I don't want them to rush! I want more time! Maybe I'll need to live to 150. Time to start working on that goal.

Thursday and STILL Posting!

It's almost a record for this year--four posts in a row! It is embarrassing how little I've posted, but with the new book a reality and no longer just a theory, writing has jumped to the top of my daily to-do's. Today will also see more activity in the studio--though I doubt if I will be firing anything of my own. Houston is coming today so we can experiment with Bullseye powders fired on copper, and Becky is scheduled to whip my books a little more into shape. Tadashi is in the hotshop, and Judy is running the desk/phones. Do they really need me? Well I suppose Houston does.

Right now I pore over my new book contract, comparing it to my last contract. Five years ago there was a section pertaining to "electronic rights" that mentioned "...photographic, video, audio, digital... for copying, recording, or transmission". Now that section has been replaced by a big, shiny, new section on "electronic editions" with a better royalty structure than previously. The royalty structure is also much better than for printed copies. Too bad I don't write fiction.

And that's enough writing to qualify for a post. Now off to so... something else.

The Weaving of Life and Work

Some days are work days with a twist. This theme is really an extension of my writings earlier this week on what work Is and how you Do it. Today I was in the studio for half an hour, and prior to now I was on the computer for about another half an hour, and yet I worked. Though it will make my husband cringe to hear it, I spent the rest of the day today on the Waldorf Holiday Fair and Viking Tales. And it gave me GREAT joy. The morning began with some lively discourse over coffee in front of the grades building at school after I dropped Jessie off (they put out coffee and home-baked bread on Wednesday mornings for any parents who wish to drop by and mingle). She has to be there at 8:00 and I had a meeting there at 8:30 (for said Holiday Fair) so it was serendipitous to have them provide me with coffee (though I talked too much to get to the bread--surprise, surprise).

Then there was a meeting--meetings in my life now that I own my own business are very rare. I meet with the studio staff maybe once every two months so in a way it's kind of a nice socializing opportunity to have the Holiday Fair meetings (and there are only two more this year). When the meeting was over, one of the other parents--in charge of the candle-dipping activity--followed me back to the studio to collect some deadfall from the pecan tree from which to make the candle bases.

Then it was off to the dollar store for bowls and the Home Depot for chicken wire to prepare for my afternoon's activity--making paper mache stalactites and stalagmites with Jessie's class for Nifflheim in Viking Tales. Emded with a quick stop at the recycling center drop-off to scavenge (despite the prominent "No Scavenging" signs) a bunch of newspaper to use in the paper mache. At home I quick whipped up nine chicken wire armatures of the stalcs and stalgs while Mom whipped up five batches of paper mache paste and filled a gallon milk jug with them. That entire paragraph took an hour fifteen to complete (do, not write)--we were like marines on a beach, Mom and I.

By 1:30 I was back at the Waldorf School and sitting down with 26 fourth graders and their teachers to do paper mache. It was a blast!! I think they all turned out really well, and we will paint them at the Holiday Fair parent workday at our house this Sunday. Now it is time to  confess that I have only done paper mache once in my life before, and that was 20 years ago. I have never made armatures before. In fact the word "armature" just entered my vocabulary in conjunction with the Holiday Fair event. My take-away from the experience? Just decide you can do it, go balls to the wall, and it will work out. After the week I have had so far, today was an overwhelming win.

But how does this whole post (and day's activities) relate to Glass Incarnate? Today was also the first day I have ever worked with chicken wire, and now I feel MUCH more sanguine about creating mold armatures--further evidence that every experience, every moment is intertwined with every other building and layering into A Life.

Thus ends my hump day this week. (And have you noticed that I have managed to post every day this week? woot woot.)

Work With a Vengeance

The day started with Dave heading off to Austin for his regular three-day stint and me wrangling the Sprout off to school. When I got home from dropping her off, I realized I had microwaved yesterday's coffee, put it in a go-mug, taken it all the way to school and back without a sip, and now needed to put it back in a regular mug. All for microwaved coffee. Which I microwaved because I am trying to save money. Which I need to save because the City of Atlanta's pound of flesh yesterday was almost more pounds than I can manage. I hope it's not a harbinger of the day. (And can I just say "ewww"? I'm making a new pot and to hell with frugality.)

Yesterday at City Hall getting a City of Atlanta business license took all day, but it's done. I had to go through the Dept of Revenue, the Zoning Dept, the Planning Dept, the Dept of Revenue again, then finally the cashier. After several hours I had a few slips of paper and a Big Bill. Everybody wants their piece of the corpse, er, pie. There are days when I think (no, I absolutely *know*) that it would cost me and my family less if I didn't work. Heck, I have enough of a yarn and fabric stash that I could weave, knit sew, scrapbook (I still haven't done my wedding scrapbook--much less one for Jessie) and garden to my heart's content--probably without ever having to buy another thing.

But that's not What I Do. I run a glass studio and make objects of beauty to enrich people's lives and homes. I make my neighborhood a better place by the existence of my studio and the experiences it offers. I employ five people, adding to their ability to make a living. I give my daughter an example of hard work and perseverance for hard work and perseverance's sake as opposed to financial gain.

Do I sound bitter this morning? I feel a bit bitter. I feel (more than) a bit ripped off by a City Government that needs money and is looking anywhere they can for it--with a poor, but honest, small businesses making a good target for them. Proof of that statement? I have made so little revenue in the past four business tax years that I have had the studio open that my back taxes--even including interest--are almost nothing. However my penalty for not filing a return is $500 *a year*. Had I known I had to register and file not only with the State of Georgia, Dekalb County, and the federal government, but also with the City, I would have done it. I did not know until they told me... four tax years after I opened the business. But ignorance of the law does not mean you don't have to follow the law so I now owe $2,000 in penalties for not filing.

It used to be that the penalty for not filing was 10% of the tax due plus interest on the tax. For a business that makes a lot of money and doesn't cut the government in, 10% is a tidy sum. For a small business that scrabbles along just trying to make it (and which probably doesn't have an accounting and compliance department to make sure all the proper forms and registrations and taxes and fees and, and, and are filed on time) the amount due would be trivial. So who is the government going after by making the fee $500 a year? The big businesses that are depriving the government of a lot of money, or the small businesses who probably owe--at most--$125 in taxes for a year? Bingo.

I got very close to the point yesterday where I said no, I'll just close my studio and lay off all my people. I have had enough being nickle-and-dimed and ripped off by a bloated, greedy, inefficient local government. I will not have a business here. But I didn't. And this morning I reviewed an old post to help bring me back into balance. Yes, I got screwed yesterday, but it's only money. Time to move on (and make another pot of coffee).

Back to Work!

The coffeemaker has been cleaned and filled, the pond is being filled, the chickens and bunnies have been fed, watered and nurtured, and it's time to get to work! While I was in New Hampshire the City of Atlanta, in their Infinite Wisdom, decided to have one of their people drop by my studio and issue a citation *to Judy* for operating a business without some damn registration form or another. Apparently they can cite anyone (and require them to go to court) if that person happens to be the only one present (a Person of Authority) in a business without the right piece of paper. She showed him my prominently displayed state registration certificate, and she showed him my prominently displayed employer registration forms for workman's comp and unemployment, but he wanted more. What, I do not know, but I shall find out today when I trek down to their offices to get the citation transferred to me.

My driver's license is still missing, and I left my GPS in my rental car in New Hampshire. The week *will* get better.

A Week At Warp Speed

Warp speed indeed. I sit, attempting calm, at the gate in the Manchester NH airport after having discovered (at the TSA check-in) that I LOST MY DRIVER'S LICENSE (!!!) sometime during the week. Either that or I packed it. I could easily have packed it (or left it in the rental car) as I am in an exhausted (but happy) fog after a week of advanced weaving with Tom Jipson at Harrisville Designs. Before I write anything else, I have to say that if there is ANY way I can do this again next year, I will (as will most of my classmates--some of whom were repeaters this time).

Some might think that a week spent in a weaving class would be relaxing, calming and balancing--and for some I'm sure it was. But in my usual fashion I threw myself headlong into the class determined to wring every drop of experience from it that I could, and to push my projects to the limits. For example, for the first project we were asked to weave a color blanket to demonstrate perception of color based on the colors' value and proximity to each other. Harrisville has 64 colors of Shetland wool in production from white to black. The looms we worked on were 22" wide so we could, at most, weave 22 1"-wide samples in the warp and then use all 64 colors for the weft.

We could extend the project by doing it on a 36" wide loom (36 colors max), or we could extend it by weaving a black thread in between all the colors in the warp and in the weft. Guess who was the only one (out of the four advanced students) in the class who did either the 36" or the black boundary. And in the interest of full disclosure, I did both. I finished my color blanket the same day as two of the others did (the fourth advanced student was *really* fast), but where they finished by 4:00 pm on day 2, and only worked until 8:00 at the latest on day 1, I finished at 10:00 pm on day 2 after also working till 10:00 pm on day 1.

I had a guilt-free (no fall-out on others if I failed) opportunity to push everything to the maximum--and, as is so rarely the case, I actually finished every task in the time I allotted myself. Which is not to say I did not occasionally have help. Somehow, no matter where I go, I manage to accrue a village. On Thursday night at 11:00, when it was time to wind a humongous warp onto the loom, four of my fellow students stepped up and helped me get it done. I could not have managed without them that night. Left to my own devices (and tears--there would have been tears) it would have taken the entire next day to get the warp on--leaving me no time at all for weaving it as the class ended (for most) Friday at 4:00.

But enough on pushing limits. This time was good for me on so many levels. I had planned to have a single room as historically I have not shared a room well with others (Todd and Dee at the BMAC and ACRE being the exceptions). However I was so happy with my roommate Charlotte that when the opportunity arose two days into the class to move into a single room, I chose not to.

More than half of the class stayed in the old mill boarding house, me included. The boarding house is a large brick building with the town's one daycare on the first floor, artist studios on the second floor, and several bedrooms, two tiny bathrooms, an eating area and a living room for the students in the attic/third floor. None of the rooms has locks on the door--not even the bathrooms. They, at least, have hooks on the inside, but the bedroom doors don't even have those, and the front doors are never locked. The town is not on the way to anywhere, and the inhabitants' philosophy seems to be, if you locked your doors, how would anyone leave anything for you?

Other peculiarities of the town which greatly add to it's charm are the lack of modern businesses: There are no gas stations, no supermarkets, no fast food restaurants--in fact I'm not sure there are any restaurants. I certainly didn't go to one. There is a General Store/ Cafe that has an eclectic selection of everything including daily specials to take home and reheat for dinner. One day I had a pound of stuffed grape leaves for lunch and dinner (with some soup, bread and wine) and they were delicious. The coffee, pastries, sandwiches, and breakfasts were also wonderful. Even the local post office with it's quirky postmaster (the only person working the window) was an exquisite slice of life from another, slower, more community-focused time.

I could go on and on waxing rhapsodic about Harrisville Designs, the class, the town, the people (new Englanders in general), my classmates, the wool--in short EVERYTHING about the last week, but I am home now, and my family awaits. Today we are all pitching in to clean up the basement. When that's done I will be able to get to my loom again, and maybe I will be able to carve out some time to re-create my experience of wonder here at home. You can read more about Historic Harrisville, a truly innovative model of historic conservation, on their website. And of you ever get the chance to visit, don't hesitate.

The Day Flies Already

In the spirit of Posting Every Day, I am dashing off a quick one before getting the kiln loads in. Yesterday really had its ups and downs. I am having great difficulty making any headway on the items on my To Do list. While this sounds like an inconsequential problem as problems go, it is causing me Great Anxiety. Enough anxiety that I was up and stressed at 5:30 am again this morning. Well, maybe "up" is a bit of a stretch. I did get up for a couple of minutes for nature, but I wasn't really "up". In fact I wasn't even totally awake; I was in more of a half state, plagued with horrible, anxious dreams and semi-lucid fears of deadlines looming. I am reminded of one of my favorite signature tags: "I love deadlines. I especially like the whooshing sound they make as they go flying by." --  Douglas Adams. Only I am not so much loving them right now (where did I put the Tums?).

 Let's move on to yesterday's highlights. The phone rang right after we opened and it was an enameling artist wanting to know about using Bullseye powders for copper enameling. After a few minutes of talking, he announced that he was really more of a visual person and could he come over and see what I was talking about. I said sure, and thus began a very enjoyable couple of hours picking the brain of another wholesale production glass artist/small business owner (jack-of-all-business). Houston Llewllyn has not been making a living at enameling copper art pieces for long, but he sure has built an incredible business. He is so organized I feel like a total slacker--and the quality of both the art and the manufacturing are amazing. He casually left one of his pieces for us as thanks for the time we gave him, and it now has pride of place on our mantle. He left with several bottles of Bullseye powders, and though I fear they are not going to work for him as well as true enamels do (color saturation issues), I really hope they work out and we see more of him. (And I want to pick his brain for the enameling section of the new book.)

But after Houston left, everything went to hell in a handbasket (I can't resist: "Houston, we have a problem"). I didn't have time to get my kiln loads in for the day, and, Primus, the first glass furnace and the one I put back into service after bring both of them back from Olympic Kilns on Tuesday, started acting up again. He errored out on Tuesday night so I had to cancel yesterday's lesson and started his warm-up all over again. He reached temp (2100 degrees F) between 5:00 and 6:00, and the temperature suddenly and inexplicably started dropping. Tadashi and I both tried everything we could think of to figure out what was wrong, but we failed. 

Fortunately, Secondus, the second glass furnace (I just noticed that all the Olympic Kilns are male and the Denvers and the Skutt are female... wonder what that's all about) was ready to jump in and take over... but his cord wouldn't reach the outlet with Primus in the way. Sigh. After a run to Lowe's by Tadashi and some electrical-extension creation, we got Secondus loaded up and he seems to be chugging along fine this morning. Now I need to figure out when I can get Primus back to Olympic for some extended testing (I leave Sunday for a week-long weaving workshop at Harrisville Designs on Sunday).

But I must end on a happy note. Today is my 16th wedding anniversary and I couldn't be luckier or happier in my marriage. Thank you, Dave, for the best 16 years of my life. Now off to load those kilns!!!! 

You Never Know Where You'll End Up On the Web...

We all know the perils of sitting down in front of an open browser window and letting the winds of the Internet blow you whither they will. I'm sure there are people who fell into the Net years ago and someday they will wake, like Rip Van Winkle, to peer blearily around and find decades have passed since they sat down. I try to carefully manage my loose browsing time, but occasionally I'll just surf to see what's out there--usually to see if someone has put up anything new about Siyeh Studio, or to see how we rank in Google for different search queries. Yesterday I found out I am being seriously dinged for using the term "kiln-forming" instead of fusing and slumping on my website. I say dinged because it's the newbies I want to find me, and they most likely think of the technique as glass fusing or glass fusion. (Maybe I need a terminology page on the website and I can say "fusing" there a lot to boost my rank...).

But enough asides. Part of my search motivation yesterday came from a call I got out of the blue from Carolyn Edlund at the Artsy Shark. She wanted to know if I'd be willing to have her feature our Date Night in the Glass Studio in an article on her site. She was also planning to include the video of me speaking on Outside-The-Box-Thinking: Secrets of Retail Success at last winter's Buyer's Market of American Craft in Philadelphia. Video? I didn't know there was a video. I have mixed reactions to the existence of a video without my knowledge, but at least I was apparently having a Good Hair Day and I don't think I sounded too stupid. However it would have been nice to be asked if I minded being slapped up on YouTube. (I got permission from all of our date night attendees before I plastered them all over the Net!)

Last note of the day: It's a good thing I didn't let hubris get the best of me yesterday as I didn't even get through the three things I had on the list--the newsletter lies fallow, the glass order is not yet unloaded, the glass furnace is acting up again (Error-1 last night some time--I think it's balking at heating a solid 80 lb block of glass in a 50 lb crucible), and I didn't get my kiln loads in. Add to that that I ended yesterday's post with the thought that there was something I wanted to start with this morning and I can't remember what it is now (senior moment), and, well, no room for hubris here.

Finding the Saddle

Vacation is wonderful. If it is good, it recharges your batteries, fills your brain with new ideas, and puts you back in balance. If you're lucky, you even get kissed by a sea lion. I just got back from a wonderful family vacation (and as shown by the photo, I even got a kiss from a sea lion--as did Jessie), and it's a good thing it was wonderful as I had to scramble right back into the saddle again. Of course I spent much of yesterday trying to find the saddle...

This morning I am working from Olympic Kilns while they service our two glass furnaces. I should have brought the back-up in for service a couple of months ago, but I was lazy and thus caught with my pants down when the main furnace went down right before I left for the aforementioned vacation. Now I pay the price as I had to schlep two heavy furnaces up here at the same time. When I get back to the studio this afternoon Dave will help me unload them, and then I'll have to charge and fire one up for the dates this weekend.

Also on tap for today is the unloading of the latest order from Bullseye--cullet, sheet, frit, stringer and rod--everything I need for a big fall sale. Dee is coming down to help me unload (hope it's stopped raining by the time we're ready to start). And speaking of sales; the infamous-not-yet-published fall newsletter will feature a great deal on a beginner's fusing and slumping kit which includes our favorite tools, kiln and a selection of glass. What could be better? (I know--actually getting the newsletter done!).

In the spirit of slowing down and being reasonable with the amount I plan for a day, I think I'll stop there. I was going to say I'll round the day off with updating the studio mailing list, redoing the front page on the website, and working on integrating my retail materials/tools/kiln inventory into my point of sale software--including incorporating the barcode system, but, come on, there are only so many hours left in the day!!

Hubris and Happy Birthday

I post from Radial Cafe as I enjoy a birthday breakfast with my spouse (his birthday, not mine). He returned home late last night from his regular 3-day-long-every-3-week stint in Austin. I was (and still am to some extent) exhausted to the point where he expressed concern. I was at a loss to explain my unusual fatigue as I have been doing pretty much my normal amount of work all week (plan curtains and painting--for the house not the studio, make and ship orders, commission new storage for the studio, have it installed and fill it (or, rather, watch as Dee mostly fills it), do a complete materials inventory, show planning... you know, a little of everything). Then I had an epiphany! Judy is also on vacation this week so I have been doing her work as well as mine--scheduling and payment for date nights, lessons and classes, chatting with everyone coming in to pick up the work, and endless hours on the phone. It's no wonder I am exhausted--I have been doing the work of three!

Don't get me wrong, it's not that I didn't realize how much they both do, I just lost track of the fact that, if they were gone, their work would still need to done and I would be the one doing it. Actually I roped Mom into doing it too--she made J's lunch and got her off to school Wednesday while I drove to Commerce to get work from Black Cat ArtWorks, and she also picked her up Wednesday afternoon while I worked at the studio. She also worked in the studio yesterday afternoon while I went to an appointment, she'll work there again this afternoon while I clean up the back yard for Dave's party tonight, and she made dinner and got J to bed last night while I put kiln-loads in. (I bet she's exhausted too!) Even with her help, however, I had a hard time staying on top of everything home and studio-related. I'm glad Dave's home and Judy will be home next week. I let hubris my nemesis get the best of me, and I am sorely chastened.

On a slightly happier note, Book Deux is official; yesterday the publisher approved the editor's proposal for a (gulp) 240 page softcover book to be published May of 2013--manuscript due May 1, 2012. Contract (with advance!) is in the works. The song playing here at Radial is "I Still Believe" by The Call. It's a sign. Let the games begin...

Organization

Dave is getting me coffee (a medium mocha) and a bagel, and I am jumping on the day/week. My schedule for the next couple of weeks is a nice blend of production work, planning (winter BMAC booth location and size), and development (website/newsletter--I can always hope!) with a dash of artist interaction as I spend a day with Dee in her studio playing studio elf for her. There are about 15 things on the to-do list that have been making me procrastinate, and I *will* knock them out this morning (focus, focus, focus). I also need to put some time into (drum roll, please) Book Two.

Book Two is in early stages; no green light (approval meeting at the publishers later this week), no contract yet (after publisher approval that takes another month), but there is a preliminary manuscript deadline (May 1), and a preliminary publication date (May 2013). I have a target length (200-240 pages), and a pretty complete outline. The content will include best studio practices, advanced techniques and projects, and it will finish with other artist collaboration (i.e., roll-ups). That, at least, is the first-pass plan. It will be interesting to look back at this post in seven months to compare reality with plan.

I am much more relaxed, much less naive, and much more organized about the initial processes of this book. This time around--especially given the serious size jump (128 pages to over 200) and the concomitant lack of increase in time to get it done (I either have the same amount or slightly less)--I am proactively, officially setting up an Open Project project plan with resources (contributors), tasks and a schedule (tote that barge, lift that bale!). I even have a trial run to learn Open Project--the Waldorf Holiday Fair 4th Grade activity, code name: Viking Tales. Last year I managed the mummies in an obstacle course through the excavation of a mummy's tomb complete with lots of ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs. This year I am calling on ALL of the other 4th grade parents to help conceptualize, construct, co-ordinate and staff this year's Viking adventure complete with Norse Runes.

But now it's time to get to that mountainous to-do list so I have time for another glass blowing lesson this week. Last week all I did was blow bubbles for two hours (an example shown at the beginning of this post) and IT WAS FANTASTIC. I really felt like I learned not only different techniques, but the rationale for them, historical/cultural context (Italian vs. Swedish vs. German techniques), and whole-body integration of them. I can't wait to learn more.

A Quickie!

This post must perforce be quick as I have a glassblowing lesson at 11:00! Fall is here and I am rededicating myself to expanding my hot glass technical repertoire--and taking advantage of the fact that I have a master glassblower and a hotshop on-site. Though I doubt if I will ever produce professional work (i.e., worth displaying in a gallery), it gives me pleasure just to do it and learn something new. I am very fortunate to have Tadashi Torii working out of my studio right now, and I am going to make sure I don't let the opportunity to learn from him pass me by because I'm too busy. Pics tomorrow!

Crabby, Crabby, Crabby!

Jessie feeding the little girls

Oh I am so crabby! I have been trying all day to slog through tasks and I am getting almost nowhere. Most of my woes are computer/software-related as today is a computer day for the glass studio. As my husband just pithily stated for himself "I am utterly uninterested in an OS upgrade at this time". Ditto.

Char and Jasmine--BFF

It's a good thing I have studio chickens and bunnies with whom to commune and who give me peace and joy. The chicken coop, bunny hutch and attached chicken/bunny run is in the back of the studio and J and I spend a lot of time there just hanging out. I never thought I'd find myself just standing in the run hanging with the chickens (really), but they are so soothing! No matter how bad the day might be, the chickens can always make it better. Some days I just don't want to leave the run. If I go missing Dave should check to see if I have put a cot in the coop... though that might be taking urban chicken keeping just a little bit far.

Jessie and Sadie (Half Moon?)

But I digressed long enough--back to software. I am looking at an expensive editing upgrade (it looks like it's finally time to pull the Adobe Creative Suite--i.e., Photoshop, Illustrator, etc., trigger), and I am going around and around today trying to figure out optimum configurations of software compatibility and money. ARGH!!! Welcome to the glass studio on Tuesday. Have I started my Niche piece? No. Have I finalized my booth size and location for the February BMAC? No. I flail. Oh yes, and I detox... again.

The new girls, Sadie and Half Moon

It's the end-of-summer detox through Kashi Yoga and I am so stressed and off-balance from the last six months that I decided to take a wee pause and immerse myself in the detox. Well I'm immersed alright. I'm caffeine-deprived, sugar-deprived, alcohol-deprived and seriously craving donuts!! This is the toughest detox I've done since the first one. (I'm sure Judy is going to hide under her bead after reading this post and not come in tomorrow.)

The Villager, Auburn

Speaking of tomorrow, Dee is coming down to help me put the final touches on the book outline which heads to the publisher for review and approval Thursday. I am *finally* moving ahead with this project after ten months of inactivity! Well, inactivity on it at least. And now that I think a bit more, I might be right to be scared right now as last year when I thought I'd finally have the margin to do the book, everything went to hell in a handbasket. I WILL slow down, I WILL slow down, I WILL slow down, I WILL slow down, (Brenda "the Train" Griffith).

The rolling of the Toomer Oaks

Last weekend Todd and I spent a couple of days at Ingrid Brown's The Villager gallery in Auburn, Alabama. It was an Auburn football weekend, and it is very difficult to convey to someone who has not lived through it exactly what that means. It means that over 87,000 people were in the stadium watching the game. Thousands of them (quite literally) came through the gallery while we were there. It had the same feel as the One of a Kind Show and Sale in the Merchandise Mart in Chicago with throngs of people packing the aisles all the times for two days--except during the game.

We had a lot of fun (and sold a lot of work) and are looking forward to going back next year. We were also fortunate enough to see the "rolling" of the live oaks kitty corner from Toomer's Drugstore when Auburn won. Those trees have a long history (with a recent sad entry), and it was interesting to see the sea of toilet paper covering them. The toilet paper (interesting note) is now hand cleaned off since the poisoning.

____________________

Now since it's really Wednesday and Dee has come and gone, I best get on to today's post!

Roll-Ups In the Fall

Some may shout with glee when spring has sprung, but for me there is no greater joy to be found than that of the first cold day of impending fall. Today we (Tadashi, Amy Dee and I) did Pop Art roll-ups in the hotshop to send to the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston for the grand opening of their renovated flagship store in the contemporary wing. It was a *very* challenging day and I'm afraid Tadashi was tested almost to his limits.

Challenges (opportunities!) began with the very first piece when I overheated the collar and covered the hole on the blow pipe with glass. With roll-ups you do a lot of work before ever starting to blow the piece out so it was a long time later before we discovered the piece wouldn't expand properly. Others might have given up and chucked the piece--it was a practice slab after all--not predestined for a specific gallery. But Tadashi is a consummate professional. He puntied the piece up, made another collar on a new blow pipe, sealed it to the opening where the old blow pipe had been and continued to blow it out. However no sooner had we recovered from that disaster when, during a re-heat, I jumped the yolk off the rails in front of the glory hole and bumped the piece into the top of the glory hole doors (covering it with schmutz) while trying to get it out. Tadashi, calm and unflappable, used a Dremel with a diamond bit to clean the schmutz off, and we continued on again. It took an hour 45 to complete that one roll-up--and it was the practice piece for the order!

Amy and Dee showed up to help before the first piece was finished and marveled at the quality (and quantity) of the save. But even with their help and the cool weather, the rest of the pieces didn't flow as smoothly as they might have. I'm not going to actually write up the entire litany of our woes in this post, but just know that there was much woe, and Tadashi pulled out a perfect save on each and every piece. We finished another three roll-ups before 5:00, and we were pretty wiped. Amy brought over a Giordano's pizza (carried back frozen ready-to-bake from Chicago) and cooked it in our oven for lunch and it helped maintain our energy, but there is no doubt that a couple of months of no roll-ups took their toll on everyone.

After Amy and Dee left, I finished getting in my last kiln load of the day and Tadashi started on midnight blue and orange twist paperweights for me to take to Auburn tomorrow for the weekend in the gallery Todd and I are doing at The Villager. I am both looking forward to the trip and wishing I had another three days in the studio. The deadline for Niche Award submissions looms and I still have my piece to do (3-D dry screen printing in glass--oooooh!). I also have a conference with my editor at Lark on Monday about book deux, and she would like to see the outline in advance... Tomorrow is another week!

Oh Let's Blog!

It's the end of the day on Monday--not my usual blogging time. The dinner has been had, the Sprout has been put to bed, and the Benedictine is being sipped. Sister Hazel sings that It's All For You leading into Marc Broussard telling me it's "Where You Are". It was a Monday almost OFF. Not quite all--I answered some email, did some planning, and made some calls--but I did keep it low key. Tomorrow Dave heads off to Austin again and I have three days of heads down work. First thing I need to do is update the answering machine with the new days and hours.

But today's post is not about tomorrow's minutiae. Today's post is about the chicks! And the buns! You've probably heard about chicks in the city. Well, I have chicks in the studio--chickens, that is. We have a small flock--seven hens: Willow, Creamy, Tuxedo, Cookies & Cream, Sundust, Nightshadow, and Pearl--and they now live in the back of the studio yard with Jessie's two bunnies. The bunnies are Jasmine and Char--1129 Charcoal Grey (she is a Bullseye bunny, after all). J wouldn't let me retroactively name Jasmine to 1429 Silver Grey--more's the pity. Dan, our wonderful carpenter built us a Bullseye play yard and coop (got to love all those empty glass crates) in the studio yard and now all we have to do is wait for the eggs... till December or so. They're young chicks. The rest of their pictures can be found on our Facebook page here.

So why did we get chickens for the studio? I'm not really sure, but it made sense at the time--and we like eggs. And our backyard was full. It's really all of a piece as Jessie runs over to the yard and lets them out of the coop every morning and feeds and waters them (she'll also be on egg collection when there are eggs to collect), and then puts them back in at night. The bunnies and chicks living together are purely the fault of the Hencam lady...

Late, Late, Late!

It seems like just yesterday I wrote I'd be posting every day again... Life, it's what's happening! This morning I sit in Kavarna poised to move full-time into a new studio direction. How exactly I will implement this new vision is still being fleshed out. Certainly the cut-back in the open hours of the studio will be a part of it, but at the same time I am looking to increase the accessibility and value of the studio for our customers. Right now we are open a lot of days a week for walk-in traffic in a non-walk-in-friendly location and have a decent-ish web presence. I need to turn that around. Bullseye has begun two new programs for education and affiliation that look like a perfect match for where I would like to be--more virtual and virtually full-time without killing myself by trying to be *really* full-time. I have said for years that I need a couple of clones of myself. Well what better way to clone oneself than through the web?

Of course as soon as I come up with a plan, Loki (the trickster), tries to throw a monkey wrench in it. I taught yesterday and two of the students really loved kiln forming and want to take more classes. I, of course, said yes there are more classes they can take, and they can also come in for open studio... Then I remembered I am cutting back on teaching and open studio this fall and felt awkward. Today I have a family group of 7-10 people coming in to do a little glass blowing with Tadashi and a little kiln-forming with me and I am a bit grumpy because I don't have an uninterrupted day (again) to spend with my family. Balance. It's all about balance.

Now I need to get this post out, have breakfast, and get to the studio to finish preparing for the group. Tomorrow's post Studio Chicks and Buns!

Coming of Age

They say (the ubiquitous "they", arbiters of life) not to make any major decisions for six months after the death of a loved one. We are now homing in on six months after my father's death, my mother moving in with us, and a major tilt of my world axis. Even before then, however, I was straining for a path, balance, satisfaction--searching for that 'click' that happens when you know you're where you're supposed to be and doing what you're meant to do. I've come close before, but the deep, resonating 'click' has eluded me. Now, after a decade of mostly reacting, jumping first and looking later, talking about building my business and slowing down with the same breath, I sit in a calm, centered place (sadly not Montana), and I see what I need to do. And I feel peace and the rumbling purr of a choice well-made and in the right direction. What can I say? I'm a late bloomer (or 50--it's the new 40!).

So here are the personal facts (note how all of them begin with "I"... get it? Personal?):

• I like people in small doses.
  
• I do not like the obligation of five or six days a week of retail, phones, lessons, date nights, classes, and people trampling around in my artistic space.
  
• I really don't like being identified to said people as "our kiln-forming instructor" (talented or otherwise) instead of The Studio Owner, Empress Of All She Surveys (I only have my tongue a little in my cheek there--even Artist Extraordinaire, or Author of the best-selling (on Amazon anyway) "A Beginner's Guide to Kiln-Formed Glass" would be better than what I currently get.)
• I like my production work and have not had any time or spare energy to develop more of it in the past two years.
• I would like to grow in other artistic directions, e.g., the 3-D printing technique I learned from Steve Royston Brown prior to BECon this year, casting (introduced to me by Linda Ethier in a pre-BECon workshop *two years ago*), silkscreening glass on glass, pottery (glaze is glass, after all, and I am fascinated with integrating glass and clay), etc.
• I need family time that happens naturally and doesn't feel stolen. If I have to wrench myself away and suffer great guilt when I stop working before 9:00 pm, I had damn well really be raking in the Big Bucks so that I have something to show for all my hard work in my old(er) age and wow is this one not happening!

Okay. Enough whinging about poor, pitiful me (I was going to say whining, but I really like the Aussie term). Now let's look at how I run the studio from the cold, analytical space of business and finance:

• The most profitable activity in the studio is my production work.
• Classes (as I have set them up) are profitable if there is only one person eating the tuition pie, i.e., if I want to do all the teaching (and if each class has at least four people in it). Otherwise classes require more time, effort, salary, and materials (money) than they bring in (a net loss). Classes that are profitable (i.e., cost more and last longer--check out the Bullseye Resource Center class lists) do not fill here. I don't know if they fill for Brad Walker, Judith Conway, Paul Tarlow, Kari Minnick, or any of the other studio owners whose businesses I admire, and who seem to be able to pull off all the marketing and community-building required for a good retail business.
• Date Night is fun, a great concept, and a good way for someone working for me to make a living. It's another net loss for me as it is just not priced (or price-able) to share the income pie (especially when the personal cost of my space and peace enters into it).

Other factors in my decision-making process are the wishes and needs of the people who work for me. Not only do I no longer want to go full speed ahead, they do not want to either. One of them has also moved a significant distance from the studio so a daily commute for a couple of hours of work is out of the question--he needs scheduled, full days.

So it's time to give up on the Kevin Costner model of retail (if you build it, they will come), and move to something a little more 21st virtual century, and, dang it, something a little less at everyone else's whim and convenience (I'm whinging again, aren't I...). My proof on the evidence for the wisdom of the decision comes from last year's Date Night data. Last August was our busiest month ever (!), or so we thought.

However, last August we only offered 11 date slots a week. We were pretty much booked in advance all the time. I thought if we expanded our offering we would book the expansion too because we were booked so far out. Turns out that 14-18 hours a week is about the time Atlanta wants to spend on Date Night at the Glass Studio no matter how many times are available. The extra times just seem to make them feel more sanguine about getting in whenever they want so we get a lot more last-minute bookings than we used to--unsettling for the staff who don't know till the last minute if they will be working or not.

As far as the retail part goes, if I were in a shopping center or other retail area, I would feel much more obliged to be open at least five days a week. But I'm not: I'm in a 1920's Craftsman bungalow that was originally purchased to be my personal studio--not a retail/teaching space. I'm happy to run over to the studio anytime someone wants to buy something (it's not like it's a huge commute). I just don't feel the need to be responsible for being there working set hours each day (nor is it cost-effective to pay someone else to sit there twiddling her thumbs waiting for customers to show up all day every day). I am not--nor do I wish to be--the WalMart of glass open whenever οἱ πολλοί feel like shopping.

Finally, my extended time in Montana this summer shoved my face in the benefits of being able to focus on one thing at a time instead of running around flapping like a headless chicken. And I liked it. Now that I have finally come up for air for the first time since January, I am ready to winnow, to pare down, to divest, to find serenity, joy, calm and my groove again. And my decision 'clicks' down to my toes.

The result: I am changing the studio hours for fall to Thursday - Saturday, 10-5. I am offering regular beginning kiln-forming classes one weekday and one weekend day every three weeks. Glassblowing--both lessons and Date Nights--will be offered Thursday - Saturday (still tentative on those days, but it will be only three days) until the slots are regularly filled and then expansion will be done one day at a time, staff permitting. These changes take effect September 7. I feel better already.

Posting!

I just finished a really long post about New Directions for the studio (doesn't it seem like there are always new directions for me and my studio?). But, before releasing it to the world at large, I need to go over it all with the staff. I am also working on a newsletter--the first since April, a fall class list, the outline for the new book, marketing materials for the production work, on-line processes for managing registration and payment for classes, materials, etc., and the Siyeh Studio (professional work) website.

After a year of no time or air to breathe, it feels good to blog again, and I plan to keep it up. Come back tomorrow! In the meantime, here's a shot on the way to Iceberg Lake this summer...