Thursday, June 30, 2011

Dear UPS Claims

As I indicated in the message I left Monday, I am not at the studio number for the next week. I am in Montana and need to be called on my cell phone (XXX-XXX-XXXX) with any questions. You can also use the following land line number (XXX-XXX-XXXX). Alternatively, email (to the return address on this letter) also works for any questions you might have as to how it was packed (bubble wrap, 2" clearance on all sides, Styrofoam peanuts packed tight around all the bubble wrap--makes the amount of crushing even more impressive), or what the claim amount was (one piece--which was valued at $155--out of the box--which was valued at $940--out of the shipment--which was valued at $1,703).

I left two messages with your agent asking her to please call me to clear up conflicting voicemail, email, carrier, and postal mail communication I received about this claim. I never received a call back. I was told the claim had been denied (postal mail). I was told you needed more information (voicemail). My carrier tried twice (the first time I wasn't there) to pick up the package for inspection from me when I had clearly stated that it was (quite logically) at the receiver's. I was asked to send photos of the damage--supposedly after it was inspected--when I got the package back. This was all very confusing, and, quite honestly, I felt like you hoped I would just give up and go away if you made it confusing enough.

So let's cut to the chase:
I am a glass artist. My clients are galleries and stores across the country. I ship with UPS almost daily when I am in production (most of the year). My breakage rate is extremely low. I have watched a carrier drop one of my boxes from the top of his dolly to the ground when he was loading it onto the truck (all glass contents, nothing broken). I pack my work for rough handling.

And, yet, those times when I do have a claim, it is invariably, immediately denied and I have to go through a long song and dance (just like I'm doing now) to get it approved. I have shipped over $49,000 in work with UPS so far this year (since January 1). This is the only claim I have had in that time period. The claim is for $155 + shipping to replace the one piece broken in the shipment. It is not for the $960 listed on the claim status page on my UPS online. I would appreciate any further questions to me regarding this claim be directed to the contact points listed above, and, frankly, I would appreciate the claim being paid asap so I don't have to spend any more time (which is money) on it. Thank you.

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Why I Like Production Work

The past few days have been filled with firings of production work for orders and examples of production work for the upcoming Buyer's Market of American Craft show in Baltimore. As I sweltered in my 82 degree, humid studio Saturday afternoon and evening, I realized anew how much I like doing my current work. Yes, it is production work--which means that I might make anywhere from one to 40 of the same piece at the same time--but it is so much fun to make each and every one that I can't even think of it as making "the same thing" over and over. Color-blending frit rules. Then there is the beauty in the layout of the many as well as the beauty of the one. It's almost like quilting with glass.

When I crank the iPod up and rock out my 80's music, I like to focus on the larger patterns of the layout on my work table that will be lost as soon as the pieces are moved to the kiln. For example, the layouts shown are of 24 6" square plates in the "Fresh" colorway. I laid up 12 pieces at a time and got lost in the flow of the frit across piece boundaries. Notice the direction of the color in the squares in the first set above (photos taken after layers four and six) and the layout of the squares in the second set (also after layers four and six). I try to use the same pattern whenever I lay up a large number of square pieces, to minimize errors from exuberant but careless frit flinging, and in the second lay up I accidentally flipped one of the squares 180 degrees. The difference was obvious--and fascinated me--after the fourth layer, but it was much tougher to spot after the sixth.

Can you see how I would get lost in the patterns? Every piece is the same, and every piece is different. Each layer of frit and color brings a new pattern, a new watercolor painting for me to admire before I move each piece to the kiln for the glass to be transformed in texture, color, transparency by the heat. These 24 pieces are part of the current order from the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston. I fused 78 pieces for them since I got back from Portland last Tuesday night.

Notice I said "fused". I am on my way to Montana today after only five days in the studio. I had over 160 pieces to make between my return from Portland and leaving for the BMAC next week and even firing full loads in every kiln every day, there was no way to get them all done. The only way to meet all the deadlines was to outsource some of the work. Clearly it wouldn't be efficient to both fuse and slump some pieces, but it worked out quite well for me to do all the fusing and then have someone step in to help with the slumping.

Lucky for me I have A Village--in this case, my long-suffering husband and Judy are stepping in to slump everything for me. It will take them five or six days to get it all done (and require meticulous instructions and firing schedules from me to make it work), but I have faith that they will rise to the occasion and I will come back from Montana next Wednesday to all orders shipped, and all my new work for the BMAC done and ready to load up Thursday (I leave for Baltimore Friday... WHEEEEE!!!!!) After 16 years, am I making a glass artist of my spouse, or does he just feel really, really sorry for how overwhelmed I am right now??

I took this final picture a couple of weeks ago when I had an order for four large award pieces and 58 earring trees in cobalt blue and lime green. I didn't have the cobalt/lime glass already made so I had to run up a few sheets to smash. The picture is of the four awards--16" X 24" each--and the six 4" X 20" strips of cobalt and blue. Bertha was full, full, full that day!

Friday, June 24, 2011

Life Changes

Today we got our first twinge of empty nest/how-fast-she's-growing-up syndrome as we packed Mom, Jessie, Baxter, Jig (the dogs) and Bailey (Mom's bird) into the car and sent them off to Montana. Even though I am flying out on Monday to meet them in Missoula and do the final driving lap with them, it was still an emotional parting. I think one thing that made it so big was I decided at 8:45 last night to see if I could activate J's iPhone and turn it from an iPod to a real phone. We weren't going to let her have a phone until she was 20--or at least 12--because we didn't see the need. But my Mom is trying hard to be the last person left on the planet without a cell phone and we really didn't want them driving 2200 miles without one. How life has changed in the past 20 years. I (as did everyone else) thought nothing of heading across country on my own in a less-than-reliable car with not even a phone card--much less a cell phone.

So now J has a phone, and it's as much so she can call us whenever she wants to as it is for safety. Maybe more. We just had our first chat (she called from Nashville) and I miss her so!!! The saga of the phone was quite funny. Turns out once a SIM card in a phone has been used it can never be provisioned again. As J has a used iPhone the card was no longer viable. No problem, you can buy a SIM card at CVS or WalMart. So while I am setting everything up with AT&T on the phone, Dave heads to WalMart (and we pause the Princess Bride--we had all been watching it for the 9000th time). Unfortunately when he gets back he tells me that they didn't have any SIM cards so he had to buy a disposable phone instead. But we live in the days of Miracles and Wonder, and the AT&T rep walks me through taking the SIM card from the disposable and putting it into J's iPhone. Voila--a new phone for $9.99 and no contract added to our family plan! It was pretty smooth and amazing.

We finished the Princess Bride (all but Mom who had given up and gone to bed in the middle of the tech storm) and fell into bed for a short five hours sleep before getting up to have a last family breakfast and send the travelers off. The last photos of the evening are of Dave and the J in their new BECon wear (J had to stand on the coffee table so I could get them both in the pic with my iPhone).

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Home

Just set the time zone on the laptop from Pacific back to Eastern. It's no longer 3:13 am, it's 6:13 am... Really? Is that how it works? Apparently will ye, nill ye (or willy-nilly, if you prefer), crossing the country does require a reset of one's internal clock. I'm blathering. No time to blather. Order organization and processing up the wazoo today--not to mention a dentist appointment and all the usual first-day-back stuff to wade through.

The posts over the past three days have been more eloquent than usual--a direct influence of being away from home, on the west coast, and staying with Morganica (the most eloquent individual I know). Now I'm home and pragmatism rules again. For the past 12 days I wore nice clothes, make-up and jewelry every day. I thought differently, moved differently, and wrote differently. Today it's back to grungy stained t-shirts, no make-up, and a harried demeanor. Is that fair, I ask you? I want to stay the casual, well-dressed if not well-pressed artist/studio owner/writer I was in Portland. Ah well. Guess I'll go clean the cat box instead.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Good-bye Portland

I sit in Rogue Ales Public House in the Portland airport waiting for my flight. I have a big glass of Rogue Irish lager to my right (for which I am getting surreptitious scandalized glances from a woman at the next table... or is it envy as she sips her diet Coke?) and a cup of Harry's beer cheese soup to my left. Yes, it's only 10:30 am here, but it's 1:30 pm in Atlanta and I am preparing. Bullseye Breakfast of Artisans!

I have loved my time here. In part it was due to the innate beauty and grace of Portland herself and the Oregonians (both native and adopted) who inhabit her, in part it was because of the reason for my visit--Steve Brown's workshop and BECon, but the main reason I had *such* a lovely time was getting to stay with Cynthia Morgan. I swear we are twins separated at birth! Now I need to figure out a way to get her out to Atlanta to play around in my studio.

In a few minutes I will get on the plane with my little canvas bag chock full of Made In Oregon souvenirs (and two jars of homemade pickled beets from the farmer's market tucked into my suitcase) and head back to the heat and the bustle that is Siyeh Studio. I will miss the peace, quiet and reflective time I have had here. And I'll really miss my twin.

Monday, June 20, 2011

Art For Me!

Marietta Old Vine Red Lot Number 54 and Van Morrison's "Wild Night" on the radio playing through the restaurant--the restaurant being Tomaselli's Pastry Mill and Cafe in Elkton, OR across the street from the Elkton Cash Market and kitty-corner from the Brandborg Winery. My pizza has a chipotle-peanut butter BBQ sauced chicken, red and green peppers, and jalapenos on it... Can you say SPICY? It also has an amazing crust.

I promised a post on my upcoming artistic endeavors, and it's time to deliver. The summer looms (I whine my perennial "where did the spring go" lament) and I am staring down the barrel of orders, the BMAC, shuttling back and forth to Montana to help my Mom prepare her house for sale, and, oh yes, adding new work to my studio practice (yep, I've whole-spleenedly embraced that phrase)...

I have been trying to set-up regular casting in the studio since I got back from the last BECon and Linda Ethier's wonderful casting workshop. I have not succeeded. I have passionately talked a good game and enthusiastically encouraged other artists to provide me with their work (or rather, wax models of their work as they normally carve stone or sculpt clay to cast in pewter or bronze) which I would then render in glass. But who has had time? Not me. I am hoping that my upcoming visit to Hugh McKay's Cast Glass Forms foundry with Cynthia with rekindle the zest and sharpen my laser focus on casting.

Even more compelling to me right now than casting, however, is to continue my explorations of creating 3-D glass forms from glass powder cradled in clay powder and laid down on the kiln shelf through a series of screens--the lo-tech 3-D printing I learned in Steve Brown's workshop. Think of it as dry silkscreen printing over and over in the same spot until it's really, really thick. This is work I could easily do with a bag of clay powder, a kiln shelf, some mullite dams, a bunch of glass powders and a kiln. Oh yes and some screens (which I have from my class) sieves, sifters and brushes. It seems like a lot, but unlike lost wax casting, it's a very clean process with none of the messy boiling, spitting water from a wallpaper steamer melting out wax from a mold. A table, a box of dust masks, a little hand broom and dustpan and I'm good to go!

So how am I going to accomplish new work this post-BECon when I failed so ignominiously before? Heh. I am going to run away. I mentioned previously that I am going to Montana a bit this summer. The truth is that I am spending the bulk of the summer there, and there isn't a glass studio. Yet. I am looking forward to beginning one this year. For the present I am not going to try to do my current production work. Instead, I want to set up a medium-sized kiln and work in casting with traditional plaster silica molds and the lo-tech 3-D printing described above. I am leaving Judy in charge of the studio in Atlanta, and Lori, Tadashi, Lee, Domenick, Amy, and Brian will keep the studio running smoothly without me. No equipment will break, nothing outside of the usual course of business will happen, there won't be any art emergencies where a client needs some thing RIGHT NOW... Well, I can dream, can't I?

I promised Dave that when I turned 50 I would SLOW DOWN. It's time to make good on that promise, and stepping away from the Atlanta studio a bit (and setting up a Montana studio) is a good start. Really. Did I mention I am completely obsessed with this screen/powder technique?

Sunday, June 19, 2011

BECon and Artists

Champagne in a lovely highball glass (for breakfast! with toast!), French press coffee with lots of cream in a mug next to it, and the rising and falling conversation of Tadashi and Morganica (Cynthia Morgan) for my music. BECon 2011 is over. My batteries are refilled to the bursting--as is my spleen... (appendix? Liver? Heart? What organ is the creative seat of the body?) I don't know from where the creative juices flow, but they have welled and filled every nook and cranny in my body and I need to get home and let them out. Thank you Steve Royston Brown.

The workshop I took from Brown was incredible. Even though my second and third pieces did not turn out (incorrect firing schedules--not enough heat so the middles of each piece [made of glass powder] stayed powder and crumbled to dust when I de-molded them) I am completely inspired to continue this body of work when I return to my own studio practice (more on studio practice in a minute) next week.

Who am I kidding?!? When I get back to the studio I am going to dive head-first into orders, work for both the wholesale and retail portions of the BMAC show in Baltimore, running a teaching studio, selling glass and tools, managing a hotshop, setting up a second hotshop/casting studio, having glass date nights, scheduling torchwork beadmaking classes, and managing employees... Making art. *snort* Like I have time for *that*! (But I will, and I'll tell you how tomorrow. Promise. I'm going to take a page from Cynthia's book and write tomorrow's post now--as soon as I finish this one--and schedule it to run tomorrow. Heh. Now more about, well, being an artist.)

I have retreated to Morganica's red leather couch with the heather purple knitted throw her mother made over my legs. It's time to really post. The problem with not posting for a month... er, two months(!) is that if I don't post, it means a LOT is happening that is worth posting about, and the task of getting it all documented may be critically important (at least to me), but it is also physically impossible. Life doesn't stand still just so I can catch up. But I am in charge. I am the adult (snicker). I'm going to jump around a bit and not worry about chronology. Linear order be damned--it may be how things happen, but it doesn't have to be how we think about them, remember them, or chronicle them.

Though I just wrote that life doesn't stand still, today, for me, I am making it do just that. I am ruthlessly avoiding any external stimuli. I don't want to talk to anyone. I don't want to meet anyone. I don't want to see anyone else's work or studio or learn about their technique. Today is a day to process everything I took in over the last week and figure out a way to ease it into my own studio practice. See? I now have a studio practice. All the presenters at BECon talked about their practices. For a couple of moments I thought I was at a medical convention, but then I, too, became taken by the imagery of an artistic practice. Hopefully less than doctors (really, hopefully) we actually are all practicing all the time.

I am also not an artist, I'm a "maker" (the other term used by all the presenters)--which is great because I can't quite get my skin around being an "artist"--even after an hour lounging on Morganica's entryway floor last night floor passionately debating what is art and do I do it with her and Tadashi. I woke up this morning with the strong, clear thought that I am an artist. Then I got over it. I don't create just to convey a message or make a statement, and I have a problem with complete lack of utility. Sure, some of my makings are entirely decorative and not at all utilitarian, and I look forward to creating new work that is just as useless but edgy rather than decorative. But whatever I make needs to engage more than the brain through the eyes. I need it to have a touch--a coolness, a softly catching slipperiness, a weight. I need it to change in different lights and contexts.

Like an artist, I want my work to provoke a response upon first sight and to continually engage the viewer/toucher. But unlike many artists I have met, I am thrilled with the the response being a completely unintellectual reaction of "how beautiful!". Someone wanting to hold and touch my work and to pass it through different lights is the reaction I am usually working to provoke. I don't often want my work to be just a touchstone to provoke an emotional response from the viewer based on his/her philosophical/religious/cultural response. I am not looking to change the world with every (heck, maybe not any) piece I create. It is more important to me to comfort and nurture than it is to shock. Don't get me wrong--I might do work to provoke and shock too, but, if that's all I did, it would simultaneously exhaust me and bore me to tears.

There were many artists presenting at and attending BECon. They came from a variety of backgrounds, though painting was a common thread. They had art degrees--many of the presenters had multiple art degrees and academic credentials. (So many, in fact, that I wondered aloud last night if I should pursue an art degree in order to claim a respectable place in the community. Cynthia and Tadashi vetoed the idea.) The artists were as passionate and high-strung as thoroughbred racehorses and I marveled that the worth-of-work issues (reference "art degrees" above) I have (usually after being around artists) in my self-identified place on the craft side of the art-craft chasm are apparently vastly smaller than those of the artists on the other side.

The people who identify themselves as artists still seem to have as much or more difficulty with their work being accepted by artists in the traditional fine arts media as I do having my work accepted by glass artists. Fortunately for me, it doesn't seem to bother me as much. I was reminded a bit of my time in academia where faculty members used to squabble over the the size of their offices, the number of chairs and windows in said offices, and how they all related to the faculty member's importance in the department. All that said, I am glad to have the title of "maker" to adopt.

Saturday, June 11, 2011

Posting?

I have meant to post for the past couple of days, but chatting with Morganica has been all-consuming. My mind is awhirl with ideas, designs and techniques. And now I head off to to Bullseye for my workshop. Later. I'll post later (BE doesn't have open wi-fi in the Resource Center). Later!

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Oh Yeah, It's Time To Post!

After maybe the most challenging two weeks in the studio EVER, I am finally back to post. (INSERT NOTE: It is now five days since I started this post so make it the most challenging THREE weeks in the studio ever!) Why has it been challenging? Well for one thing, expansion construction continues apace with the extension on the coldworking room almost finished, the new hotshop done but for electric--and a new in-ground trampoline, raised vegetable garden, cinderblock bog pond and 16'X12' 2'-3' deep pond being added to our backyard next to the studio. The design and construction alone were enough to keep me busy full-time, but I didn't HAVE full-time for them. Nope.

The Chihuly exhibit at the MFAB continues to be very, very good to me. The museum did a normal order for their stores at the BMAC in February requesting 64 pieces for a 4/1 ship. The exhibit opened on 4/7, and they put in a rush order for another 116 pieces for a 4/15 ship. Now one frazzled month later they are up to 665 pieces to be shipped between 4/1 and 5/31--and the exhibit goes through August 7! I begin to be concerned for my summer travel plans to Montana (and the weaving class I was going to take in New Hampshire in June is now right out...).

I already over 100 pieces to ship the first of May from the Buyer's Market (BMAC) show in February--many of them very large. Bertha, Bettina (the big-girl kilns) and I have become very good friends these past few weeks as I have spent every night from 7 pm to 11 or 12 pm with them. I was not alone. My Mom came over every night after dinner for the past week or so and unloaded Bertha and washed and ground the edges (as necessary) on all the newly fused pieces from her so they could g into Bettina for a slump. Dave kept me company and occasionally unloaded Bettina if I hadn't gotten around to it. Jessie swept the studio floors and watered the flowers in the front bed. Judy kept the frit filled and Amy made the morceaux.

Roll-ups have also kept us quite busy at the studio, and it's coming up time to review our paperweight line and plan the colors and designs for the upcoming BMAC. Speaking of the BMAC, the calendar looms: the BMAC is hot on the heels of BECon, which begins (for me) the day after my birthday which is just over two weeks away--right after I get back from Phoenix (where I am now with Mom and J visiting Mom's brother, my uncle Ed--shown here with J). Before the BMAC I need to get two more big orders out, figure out what work I'm going to show and make it, have the roll-ups and paperweights photographed, have postcards made... oh yes, and make a new website for Siyeh Studio (as opposed to Siyeh Glass) for my production work.

I begin to think my 50th year may be my busiest yet!

Monday, May 02, 2011

Has It Really Been Two Weeks?

I need to post quickly before something else explodes or takes a radical detour sideways (too late--everything happened and now it's after 11:00 pm and I'm finally posting!)... It's been a challenging couple of weeks since I last posted. I believe at the time I mentioned a really full life. Hah. I hadn't even begun to see a really full life two weeks ago. NOW I know what a really full life is, and I gotta say, it's not for me. Here are some pics of everything that has physically happened at or around the studio in the past two weeks:

The hotshop before any new construction:














Then after the first few days:















Then when finished (notice the nice deck for datenighters):



























Then there's the new coldworking room expansion which was started and mostly finished in one day:


















And with the new siding, walls and floor up (but with the old interior wall--need to cut that one out still):














Finally, The inside of the new kiln-forming classroom:


















Now I'm tired and need to go to sleep. Another post tomorrow morning I hope).

Monday, April 18, 2011

We Now Pause For Station Identifiction

I love Mondays anymore. I used to be like any other commuter and hate both the thought and the acts of getting in the car, driving to work. and starting another week. Now Monday is still a work day, and I still have a commute (across the backyards though it may be), but the studio is CLOSED. No one is scheduled to work but me. Can you say "regroup"?

I have had the fervid intention to post every day since the year began. Last week, not so successful. Was I slacking? Heck no! I taught three classes--two of them with no preparation as they were not on the calendar and when the participants arrived for their classes I was hip-deep in other projects. But they all three went well. I also finalized the schedule and processed the paperwork for the four (four!) new (new!) studio employees, and Judy left Friday on vacation for two weeks... That Judy keeps the entire studio running has never been more apparent than in the past few days. To add another ring to our circus, Dan our wondermous carpenter came and put the sliding glass doors in between the kiln room and the kiln-forming classroom, and today he was scheduled to begin the coldworking room and hotshop expansions and build the ventilation system for the beadmaking classroom. (I say scheduled as he had car trouble and we had to postpone till tomorrow--Whew!)

But the cherry on top of the whipped cream on top of the triple-scoop sundae that was my full week last week came when the buyer from the Museum of Fine Arts Boston called Thursday afternoon in a panic. I shipped them 66 (66!) pieces on 4/1 which were destined to be split between three of their gift store locations. They had another 50 on order to be shipped today as they currently have a self-curated Chihuly exhibit (Chihuly being the self--not the exhibit) in the Art of the Americas Wing and they thought they might sell some glass art in conjunction with it. Yeah. Uhuh. They put out my work on Tuesday to fill in some empty spots in a location they hadn't planned on putting it, and people grabbed it up like it was on sale in Filene's Basement. My buyer upped her order to *116* pieces on Friday and we pushed back the ship date a day (maybe two). That's why I have been in the studio till midnight every night.

So the Pause For Station Identification... There are so many directions I am going in right now that I am not sure who I am. Am I still a production glass artist? Not really--production time is relegated to the evenings after my "real job". And isn't that a kicker as it's the production work that's bringing in the money to fund everything else right now! Usually it's the day job that pays for the evening's "art". No more. In just over a month I'll be 50 and I STILL don't know who I'll be when I grow up. Nevermind who I want to be--who stands still long enough to think about wanting something? Do or Do Not--there is no Want.

On the plus side, if I died tomorrow no one could say I hadn't lived a really full life!

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Adversity, Your Name Is Hotshop

"The mark of your true nature is in the grace with which you face adversity." Thank you Alicia Lomne for the wonderful quote on Facebook this morning.

Yesterday was packed AND challenging for me, as were the two preceding days and as will be today. Yesterday's biggest challenge came in the staff cost of running the hotshop last week with the thermocouple not functioning. When you run a business--no matter how well you run it--there will be weeks you only make a little to bank for the next rainy day, and there will be weeks when you just break even and you're glad to be alive to fight another week. Last week we hemorrhaged money babysitting the thermocouple--It would have cost far less to have just shut the hotshop down rather than to keep it operating sub-optimally.

I keep trying to tell myself that it was a one-off week, hindsight is 20-20, etc., but the reality is that last week hit really hard and we can't have another like it. Period. Not a good day to have to go through when planning a hotshop expansion.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Almost Caught Up!

After two days of post-vacation stress, I am hair-on-fire, full speed ahead. I think I am wearing the very nice people at Olympic Kilns out with me requests for modifications and tweaks to their kilns. I dropped the furnace off yesterday morning to get the thermocouple fixed/replaced and picked up the new bead annealer. Tomorrow I'll take the bead annealer back up to get the doors cut down a little and pick up the furnace. I wish they weren't 40+ miles away, but at least I have the option of going in person and not shipping.

Today is payday in the studio--the first payday with all the new staff. On April 1 we had to switch to a formal bi-weekly pay schedule from having one person bi-weekly and two others whenever-there-was-a-sufficient-amount-due as I have hired *four* more people in the past three weeks! Wheeee! We (the current staff) are excited to be joined by Domenick Peronti, production glassblower and teacher; Amy DeBaets, hotshop assistant (extraordinaire); Lori Schinelli, retail glass manager and kiln-forming instructor; and Tadashi Torii, hotshop manager and lead production artist (for roll-up work we finally get to formally add to our studio offerings). Lee will be the lead teacher in the new expanded space. Brian is still a little lonely up in the beadroom all by himself, but Lee is VERY relieved to be cutting back a bit and giving his knees (and fiery hair) a respite from the 50-60 hour weeks in the hotshop. More info on these wonderful new Siyeh staff Coming Soon to the website (and the newsletter--which is not late unless I call it a quarterly newsletter :-).

In typical how-much-more-can-I-chew fashion, Dan will be in to start the hotshop expansion (a second hotshop off of the first one about half the size of the original) next week, and I'm also going to ask him to expand the coldworking room at the same time. No time like the present! I just hope the payments for the orders I've shipped so far this year start coming in or things could get ugly. Yes, I could have waited to have the money in hand before scheduling the work, but the stars have aligned for getting the new hotshop done NOW and who am I to argue with the stars? Now that I have three glassblowers chomping at the Date Night/lessons/production bit, I need to have a workspace (and work) for them all. Part of the work will be a renewal of roll-up work in the studio. With only one glassblower, we could barely keep up with Date Nights--much less lessons and, far down the line, new production work. But with Domenick and Tadashi--who worked with Johnathan Schmuck doing roll-ups a few years ago and who has produced them for local artists in his own studio since--we are ready to have an entirely new line of work for this summer's BMAC!

Okay, people and projects waiting in the studio, more tomorrow!

Friday, April 08, 2011

Coincidence or Unattributed Inspiration?

I probably wouldn't have even posted today had Bill not sent me this picture from the current Artful Home catalog asking if it reminded me of anything. While no one could ever say it is a copied design, the similarities are striking enough to me that I thought I'd put the work out there for comment. What do you think? Did someone see our Balance piece and say, "Hey, I like that shape! I want to do something like that and call it mine!"?

Today is the ante penultimate day at the beach. Spring break is almost over and we will have to return home to our lives. I have used the time here very productively... to sleep. Yep, I've managed at least 11 hours a day of sleep since we got here last Sunday. I've done a bit of planning and web design work, caught up on date night photo issues and started preparing the next newsletter (already a week late), but mostly I've slept. And as I've slept, I've dreamed. In my dreams I have felt the stirrings of ideas for new designs and a build-up of the energy necessary to realize them. The goal when I get back to the real world (also known as the studio) is to hoard this energy and use it slowly and wisely--no more 17-hour studio days.

Of course, I look at my list of the projects I have awaiting me there and it's depressingly long and diverse--nothing sucks up energy more than a bunch of little to medium projects all requiring development of new skills or reawakening of rusty ones. Give me one or two big projects any day. I have to learn to say "No" to little repairs--especially stained glass ones. I don't even work in stained glass anymore and I am way out of practice.

But worrying about the little things is for after the ultimate (in the sense of last) day at the beach. I'll grumble more next week.

Postscript:

I went a little ways further through the Artful Home catalog and found the work below (the pieces at right are mine). Even more depressing is that this is someone I mentored at the BMAC a few years ago and encourage every time I see him. There were many times he could have said, "Gee, I really like your Pop Art series, I think I'll do something like it!". Am I wrong or petty for thinking he should have?

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Over the Hump!

Allow me to explain about the glass studio business. The natural condition is one of insurmountable obstacles on the road to imminent disaster. So what do we do? Nothing. Strangely enough, it all turns out well. How? I don't know. It's a mystery.

I finished in the studio at 11:30 tonight and celebrate with another glass of sauvignon blanc which will undoubtedly be finished before I head up to the shower so I'll have to get another one with which to share the shower steam. It was definitely a two-glass-of-wine day.

Becky the bookkeeper finished up my 2010 books in her Quickbooks 2011 for Windows last evening just in time for my meeting with my accountant this morning. She sent them to me about 9:30 am so I could import them back into my Quickbooks 2009 for Mac (from whence they originated). Already you know this isn't going to end well...

Though I could go on for several scathing paragraphs filled with blistering invective about the absolute ethical impoverishment of the Quickbooks products and Intuit's customer service, it's already all been said (ad nauseum) elsewhere on the web. If they didn't hold all our data hostage, we would have risen up and skinned and eaten every last Intuit employee long ago. Bottom line for me is that after spending *eight hours* trying to get to my own business data (does everyone remember that it is theoretically tax season?), I am still unable to even find out how much I made/lost last year.

Those eight hours were filled with entertaining anecdotes including the story of how I had to upgrade my Mac's OS from Leopard to Snow Leopard (the LAST thing you ever want to hear when you are having an application problem is that you'll need to upgrade your computer's operating system in order to run the version of the application that will fix your problem--especially when it doesn't). They were enlivened by having to spend $174 for a new version of QB for Mac (2011). But the REAL frosting on the experience was Becky being told by pro tech support at Intuit (she PAYS them in order to receive service as an accounting professional--she's not just some schmo [like me] calling in) that we would have to pay $750 for them to expedite them fixing my file which is broken due to a bug in the software. Laugh? Cry? You tell me. Pay $750? I think not.

Now, as I finish my first glass of wine, I am undaunted, of good cheer and stout heart, and slightly more mellow than I was earlier today. I taught a class tonight, unloaded yesterday's monster kilns loads, loaded all four kilns with new fuse loads, and am home in the same day I left the house. It's a Good Thing. Helen, my accountant is meeting me for breakfast Saturday morning at 9:00 to take my finished books and turn them into a business tax return. Becky is lending me her Windows laptop from tomorrow morning through Saturday morning so I can enter my last 2010 data (mileage, expenses paid from personal accounts, etc.) into Quickbooks for Windows prior to dumping the whole mess in Helen's lap.

I should get my glass order in to Bullseye now, but that's going to have to wait till first thing tomorrow. I'm too tigh-tigh. Night all!

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Tuesday Was Too Long

It is the cusp of the day. I just got home from getting the last kiln loads in--37 pieces fused today. I shudder to think what time Bertha and Bettina (the big kilns) will be cool enough to unload tomorrow. It'll probably be another late night just because of the timing of the unload. Tomorrow, one last big fuse and the slump loads begin. Thursday is all slump all the time, and Friday we ship.

When all is said and done, I like when Dave is in Austin for these big production pushes. He worries when I start work at 8:30 am and end at 12:30 am with just a couple of hours off in the evening for family time (not that he won't worry now from reading this post). Of course I couldn't do it without my mother here to get the J showered and into bed while I head back to the studio.

So why am I still up when I have to get up at 7:00 to get the J up, pack her lunch, fix her breakfast, and take her to school? I have to transition. I am sipping a glass of sauvignon blanc, and in another line or two I'll carry it upstairs where it and I will share a hot shower. By the end of the shower, it will be gone, and I will be totally relaxed and ready to crash for six short hours. Tomorrow we crest the hump and start the slide to the bottom of the week. Hope I can follow McMurtry's advice in "Ruby and Carlos" and stay off that slippery slope. Night all.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

The F-Word

In the old posting style: Coffee in a 1930's diner-style white ceramic mug, a lot of people laughing and talking over "It's All I Can Do" by the Cars in the background. Wow. Is the universe talking to me through music again? Is it telling me (as my mother hinted this morning) that I am already pretty (over)extended and taking on yet another project at this time might not be in my (or my business' or my family's) best interest? But then Annie Lenox comes on singing that "sweet dreams are made of these and who am I to disagree?" and so I must post on about my New Direction. I think it's finally time to bring the F-Word into my business model.

At first (as I wrote before), I didn't think I had anything to offer that would make someone want to F=word with me. So I decided to just write up a little e-how-to instead. But Dave remarked again last night how his boss--a very business-savvy man--thought I just should do the F-word, and for whatever reason, this time the idea really resonated with me. Dave also pointed out that you don't make any money writing about something (unless you're Deepak Chopra). Do or Do Not, but don't waste your time writing about for $10 a copy.

I even have the perfect candidate in mind for my first partner. She talked to me for well over an hour at the BMAC show in February about how to start. Then she called last week to see where I was on the e-how-to as she had been hoping to get it in time for her first anniversary next week. This morning I am going to call and offer her a different sort of deal.

So why has Franchising (Date Night in the Glass Studio) suddenly become so enticing to me? Two reasons: 1) I have finally begun to believe in the uniqueness and value of the business process I have created and the uses of marketing technology that I bring to the table (what's easy and obvious to me ISN'T necessarily to everyone else), and 2) I would happily pay someone else to give me this level of assistance, skill, experience and physical support to get up and running quickly, so it must be worth it.

Now I need to put it all together. What services will we offer? How much will we charge for them, and will it be a flat annual fee or a percentage of bookings? We will need to have a buy-in fee for training and initial materials, but there are advantages and disadvantages to flat fee vs. percentage ongoing. What about equipment? Marketing? Managing the calendar and sign-up? The picture upload system?

__________________________________

Even after over two hours on the phone with my proposed partner I still have more questions than answers. I also have a domain: glassdatenight.com. Now I need a nap.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Doing It For the Money

As I anticipate the great 50 year marker at which I will arrive in a couple of months, I spend increasingly more time introspecting. This morning's epiphany was about Doing It. Why do we Do It, what do we want/need/get out of Doing It, (and I'm sure you're wondering, what IS It)? Most of us know as we're growing up that we're going to have to Do It. We dream about It, we think about what It will be for us and where we want to Do It, and when we picture ourselves Doing It, it's always the most fun and exciting, novel and unique aspects of It that we see--we certainly never see ourselves being bored Doing It (though we often will be).

Our parents encourage us to choose It based on how much we will make Doing It, how much security there is, how much demand for It. They want It to be able to provide for us and our families financially--and, don't get me wrong, financial stability IS important. But when push comes to shove, as it always does, how many of us can really Do It just--or even primarily--for the money? I can't. My spouse can't. Maybe my father did, and he was often miserable--though that brings up another point to address below.

My epiphany was brought on this morning when I ran into a parent from Jessie's school here at Kavarna who works at the school in a parental representative position. She (as always) was full of energy and enthusiasm, zest and focus for her job and the rest of her life. I looked at her as an employer (more on that below) and thought how lucky I would be if I could hire her for the studio. She's educated, articulate, enthusiastic, energetic--and not at all focused on The Money. She couldn't be. Though I don't know how much she makes for the school, I know that if she thought about how many hours she works and how much she makes she would realize that she could Do It at the Publix deli counter and make more money and have more free time for her family than she does now. She doesn't work at the Publix deli counter.

Doing It, aka Working, cannot be about the money you garner from the work. If it were, you would inevitably become dissatisfied and think you are worth more than you are making--the expression of which would undoubtedly make your employer think you were worth less. As I looked at this woman this morning I realized that we do not work because we have to for money, we work because we have to to live. Work enables us to feel worth, participate in a community, exercise our brains, be anchored, have a purpose--in other words, to live.

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 the former case a reworking of the job or it's environmental factors (co-workers) might fix the problem, in the latter, a good therapist would be a good start. In both cases, I really don't believe money is the issue.

A physical need for an increase in money may dictate a request for a raise or a job change, but it won't decrease our satisfaction level with our job. Instead we're more likely to regret the change that's being forced upon us by financial responsibility--and we hope we'll be lucky enough to be happy in the next job we have to take based on the remuneration for it.

So why am I thinking as an employer right now? Because we are expanding the studio again and I have been putting together salary and benefit packages for potential employees. I have to balance being fair with how much the studio can afford--and it's made me really think about how much (or in this case little) I make and what that means to me. At the end of the day, it doesn't mean a thing. Dave has always said that he'd code even if no one paid him. If he ever works for a company that goes public or is bought by Google or Amazon resulting in millions of dollars for him, nothing about his relationship with his laptop will change--he'll still be plugged in all day every day writing code. He has to code. It gives him joy that cannot matched by anything else long-term. He would wither and die if he couldn't code anymore.

I own/run a business and am not burdened with paying the mortgage, the property taxes or our household bills--Dave's salary covers those things. So because I don't HAVE to work for a salary does that mean I work less or take it less seriously? It is to laugh (as Mike would say). I work as I work because of who I am, not what I make, and I work damn hard. I am very fortunate that I lucked into Judy, my studio elf, because she is just the same. She attacks every task with zest and verve and joy. I was very, very lucky to have found her (thank you Lori), and I hope I am as lucky in my upcoming hires. If you have an employee whose first question is always "What's in it for me/what's it going to cost me?", no one is going to be happy.

Back to my father for a second. He was not happy to actively miserable in his job for much of his 30 years of service (same job, same office, US Forest Service). He was also not happy in his personal life. Was he unhappy in his job because of the job and therefore unhappy in his personal life because of his job, or was he unhappy because that's the way he was? If it had been the job, I would have expected him to be happier in the 20+ years after he retired, but that wasn't the case. There was always something that made him mad, unhappy or just discontented--illegal immigrants were stealing American jobs, there was favoritism in the ski school (he was also a ski instructor), the environment was being wrecked, Someone Somewhere getting Something they shouldn't have and didn't Deserve... (I feel a rant coming on about being so obsessed with what's fair and right that we miss enjoying what is. No time for that today. Need to stay on topic.) My conclusion is that Dad was who he was and all of his experiences were colored by his own inner unhappiness. His unhappiness did not have external causes--it was internally driven. He could be happy for short bursts by achieving some goal, but every success was doomed to be followed by a failure because of how he felt about himself.

Now back to the upcoming hires and managing the expectations/happiness of current staff. It's Not About the Money! I cannot let myself be convinced that it is. The idea of a level of experience and education being worth a certain amount of money and having that as a driving concern for a prospective employee is going to be an immediate strong negative flag for me. I need to trust that I have been fair because that's who I am. I have to trust that I do the right thing because that's who I am. I have to Trust and stick to my vision because I can't Do It for the money, and I really don't want anyone around me who thinks they need to.

Now, anyone know anyone in the Atlanta area who might be interested in teaching glassblowing, working as a hotshop assistant, or teaching kilnforming/cutting and stocking glass?

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

It's a Square World

Good morning wet world! It is truly spring in Atlanta. All the cherries, plums, bradford pears, forsythia, and early deciduous magnolias burst into glorious bloom a couple of weeks ago, and now the redbuds are starting to open... and it's raining. I don't mind the rain though, today is a day for getting to studio projects that have languished for too long--repairs, screen-print fuses, and the first round of orders from the BMAC. I'll probably even finish up the bills and supply orders I need to get paid and in (in that order).

A hot topic lately in the small artist world is credit card processing with a Square or similar device. Dave, my uber-geeky-technological-and financial-industry-cred-out-the-wazoo spouse got me one (and even set up the account for me--not that I plan to use it) and got himself one too, who knows why! I don't plant to use it as my card processing needs are more geared to card-not-present scenarios (over the phone, over the web sales), and I also have a high enough credit card sales volume that a real business account with lower rates makes more sense to me.

However I have been following with interest one of the recent debates as to the safety of the square that has been politely raging on Wendy Rosen's Facebook page for the past couple of days. I know (and highly respect) Cynthia personally, and Guy at TeaMac has been my credit card processor for many years. It's worth a look. (And for the record, I, too, would like more hard reputable test data provided and less the-sky-is-falling hyperbole.)

Happy Tuesday!

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Hello!

It's been so long since I last posted I have almost forgotten how... I promised a post on the BMAC, but, sadly, I've already forgotten what I was going to say. (There's a lot of forgetfulness going on here.)

The past couple of weeks have been filled with studio and life activity. The new kilnroom is finished, furnished, and I have already taught three days in it. I don't say three classes as the second day was an all-day studio experience for 18 homeschoolers aged 10-15. They divided into groups of six and each group spent two hours with me, Brian and Lee/Becky H. In the Lee/Becky group, they did glassblowing with Lee and read about the history of glassmaking with Becky. It was a wonderful, exhausting day. Last night I had a group of travel planners in town for a workshop who came in and learned some kilnforming, ate pizza, drank wine and made plates. They didn't finish till 10:30 and I am wiped today!

Wiped or no, it's time to get last year's accounting finished so I can get everything to my accountant for taxes (late). It's also time to get the newsletter out with next quarter's class schedule and glass specials. Bullseye is tempting me with a special dealers-only curious sale and it could be a lot of fun to have it to offer it this spring with all the new open studio kilnformers.

Okay, though blogging is fun, it's time to work on the website!