All posts tagged goals

Square.

I abandoned my traditional merchant account (i.e. the thing that allows me to process credit cards) and went with Square for events. Here’s why.

The merchant account, through my bank, was killing me with fees. I don’t do events every month. Most of my online payments are made via paypal. My bank charged a monthly “no use” fee and these fees were adding up. Then I added the cost of the terminal lease, the increasing number of miscellaneous fees here and there, and the extra fees to accept various cards. I did the big math. Ugh. Then figured out the percentage I was paying after all was said and done, and cancelled my account that day.

I was apprehensive about cancelling the account. I know that my sales have increased double digits since I began to accept credit cards at events. I needed an alternative. Did a bunch of research and a bunch more math. I signed up for Square.

What is it? It’s this funky little credit card reader that plugs into the audio jack on a smartphone. I used my iPad. Just like a traditional merchant account, the company takes a percentage of your sales (2.75% for swiped sales). Their website has all the gritty details.

Because what was I out if it didn’t work? The reader was free. (I have seen the black reader in Walmart for $10). I already had an iPad so I thought I’d try it.

Here’s a note about the iPad I used. It’s an iPad 2 with 32GB – 3G version with Verizon service price $729. Overkill. The 16GB, $629 version would work great for this but I wanted more GB. I pay $30 per month for 3G internet, but turn this off when I don’t have an event since I’ve already got wi-fi in the studio.

I could write another post and all the ways I use the iPad in my artist practice. So not just for processing credit cards. I liked that I can use a multi-use device – not pay for a credit card terminal that does just one thing.

Okay… So back to square.

The Greyhounds Reach the Beach event at Dewey Beach, Delaware was the first big event where I’ve used this set up. This is my biggest event of the year. This is the event where I take the most credit cards. Did square work? Yes.

Really, really well.

My favorite thing was that I could enter my artwork into the Square app along with price the art work, description, and photo of the work. This made keeping track of sales easy and my tile inventory seamless!

Many people commented on the iPad verses smartphone. They loved the bigger screen and often followed along as I went through the steps. Only thing I would do differently is purchase a stylus for the customer to use to sign their name. The signing with finger worked okay – think the comfort level would be greater with a stylus.

The money appeared in my bank account quickly with no limit of the amount each day.

Very good experience.

The nature of clay

The studio shelves are bare except for a few boxes that didn’t make it into the last firing before the big Dewey Beach event. They are now the beginnings of a next firing, the next kiln load.

More than any other time in the year, these weeks after Dewey Beach feel like  a new beginning. Turn it all over, let’s get started again. Feels funny – the weather outside the studio is fall-ish. Trees winding down, losing leaves, getting ready for winter.

But it’s time to get moving again. I’ve got three pieces to start/finish for a January themed show. I need to figure out what I’m going to enter in the Art Show At The Dog Show also in January. And there are the memory boxes that need my attention as well. My store is in need of some small sculptures for holiday gifts.

Clay is a medium of chance and “kiln gods” and luck. It’s also wait and see, timing, and moisture. Time to get moving again.

I ordered more clay today.

 

Fun and adventure.

In the spirit of the last post I thought I’d try to mix things up a bit. After posting that little whine about the lack of new challenges – jeez, it even makes me roll my eyes – I stumbled on Alyson B. Stanfield’s ArtBizBlog and her current online class. What the heck, let’s try it.

It’s day 2 of 30. I’ve run into trouble.

So the problem presented is to rate oneself from A to F on how well one is doing on seven different categories. A’s and B’s… except for the Fun and Adventure category. That’s one big stumbling block. The glaring F in red pen with a circle around it. Failure.

Because… I’m not that good at Fun and Adventure when it’s mixed in a non-art context. Like “Taking A REAL Vacation”. I read that and my eyes squint, brow furrows. “What does that mean?” complete with head tilt and quizzical look.

I suck non-art Fun and Adventure.

Fun and Adventure within the art context? I got that one covered. I know how to do this. But pull out the Art… and there goes the Business excuse for doing things… and my “This-Is-Not-Prudent” android-like inner voice becomes oh so apparent.

“Why would you want to do that? That’s expensive. You should be working. Remember that email you got three days ago about the (insert piece of art) that you haven’t finished yet? Besides you have XX number of projects to be finished at the library job. And who will take care of your dogs?” Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

I know what fun looks like. It’s why the hounds and I go to the dog park every day. Hands down, dog park time is the best part of the day. It’s the closest I get to non-art fun…. course if I bring my camera then I take photos that I’ll later use for sculptures and other art projects…

But conventional ideas of vacation fun? Like me on a beach with a fruity drink in one hand, lounging on a towel, soaking up the sun? I can’t imagine that that would be fun at all. Or Las Vegas? I am physically incapable of gambling. A cruise? I get seasick on boats.

Totally ridiculous.

So what is fun?

Annie and the dog crate

Dog training & gardening. Two things I wish I could do better.

I picture my backyard rich with lush green plants. Carefully chosen flowers blooming in succession. A pleasant courtyard with a sculpture garden. My backyard looks nothing like this.

And as for the dog training… My hounds are easy to live with. They are housebroken. They walk on the leash. They sit when asked. They are polite at meals and don’t charge out of open doors. But if we go deeper… not so much.

The reason both these things aren’t further along? Me. Time. Effort.

Especially with the dogs. They are smart, eager to learn and easy to train. It’s me that is the big, tired push-over.  But there are “Things We Must Learn.” So I made a list.

One of the things on the list is “Annie must learn to settle in her crate”. So I set up the crate, began feeding her in the crate, and dispensing treats for being settled in her crate. It took no time and soon we began seeing this:

Black Greyhound in dog crate

Hurray! We’re working on duration (with the door closed) now.

She’s a smartie, my girl!  She’s figured out another use for the crate:

All the better to survey the neighborhood.

Three days to more clay work.

I had nothing on my calendar this past friday, saturday or sunday. I cannot remember the last time that happened. No events. No library thing to distract me from studio time. Plus sunshine. It was wonderful.

So I pulled out of 25 pound block of clay and began to work. I’ll admit – friday things didn’t go well. I made ugly things. Really ugly things. Wasn’t working. I was fighting the clay.

Saturday wasn’t much better, but I kept at it. I’ve been at this long enough to know there is a time to quit – to shut the studio door and walk away for a better day – and there is a time to work out the ugly. This was the time to keep at it.

The way to get out of the Uglies is to stay on task but scale back. I put the big pieces away and make small heads, or feet – on Saturday I made new stamps to press into the wet clay (for boxes, etc.).

Here’s why this works for me. The stakes are lower. I’m not using large amounts of clay. I’ve solved the engineering and firing problems already. All that’s left is working the creativity muscles.

It’s like stretching before running a race. A warm up. Preparation for the Big Art.

After a Saturday of making the stamps (so much fun!), I started a few of the smaller maquette sized pieces. I’ve sculpted many of these small works. They are the my equivalent of sketches  - solving basic problems, working out simple ideas, practicing success. Sunday was beginning to look productive. The clay was fun again.

Smooth Saluki

By Tuesday I was ready to tackle a few Salukis. Here’s the smooth Saluki in a play bow position in the working stage. Maybe a larger piece is in the future?

There is an ebb and flow to this clay work thing. I try to jump in at the middle – to take short cuts. But the process is the process. Even if I try to “cheat”, the process keeps me honest.

On to more work!

 

Now and then.

Someone told me that it takes seven years of practice to master the potter’s wheel. The variation on this is 10,000 hours of deep practice over 10 years* Either way it seems rather impossible for someone beginning at the bottom.

I’m not a potter, and I’m fairly certain that I haven’t mastered clay, but I do practice. It is nice to look at older work and see progress.

Like when I look at this – this is the first “cockroach” (upsidedown sleeping Greyhound) I made. Ever. It’s a small miracle that I’ve kept it, but there it is.

Here is the first next to the version I made yesterday afternoon. They’ve change a bit, huh?

When I look at the first piece, I can see that many of the things that make these pieces successful still remain. I still like the feet in the air – I only made a few before I realized that I wanted the feet to be more detailed since they were so visually important. “Let’s make them MORE important by adding detail making them oversized”  Then the heads became more shapely and the bodies more expressive.

My original goal was to make 100. I regarded them as studies – like three dimensional sketches of a feeling. I had self-imposed time limit like under an hour or something. I don’t remember if I ever finished my goal. I have made well over 100 of these guys – probably closer to 750. There is no way I could make one like the first one anymore. The practice changes the process.

*The Talent Code: Greatness Isn’t Born. It’s Grown. Here’s How by Daniel Coyle discusses this idea in depth. Good book.

Let’s review.

Anybody notice that it is September already? Greyhounds Reach the Beach in Dewey Beach, Delaware is right around the corner (October 7-10). No need to panic. I’ve got it covered.

Sort of. It’s coming. Nothing is *finished* but it’s getting there. Big sculptures are drying. Tiles need glaze. And I’m going to be setting a fires in the backyard – getting this year’s batch of cockroaching greyhounds exposed to the smoke. Just keep plugging along.

I’ll have more work up on the etsy store this week. I’ll post on the blog and on facebook – or send me an email – I’ll let you know, if you like.

So in all the flurry of preparation for the great early trip to the beach I’ve noticed something. I learned a lot this year+. A Lot.

Remember this piece? This was May 2009. I was attempting to make the largest piece I could fit in my kiln in one piece. I used an armature to build it, sculpted it solid, cut it apart and hollowed it out. Had a few *cough* missteps along the way.

And then I whacked the foot on the side of the kiln during loading. And then I cried.

June 2009 brought the workshop in Helena at the Archie Bray Foundation.

I learned a lot. This is a gross oversimplification.

Came home and started a new sculpture right away.

 

I was happy with this piece. I’m sure of this because I have 10,000 photos of it. Which is a good thing. Cause it fell to the floor of the studio and burst into a 1,000,000 pieces. And then I cried.

Now fast forward a year.

I feel like I’m getting somewhere. This feels good. I’m confident I can fire this piece – get it to live. I’ve learned a lot.

Now instead of mild burn-out/frustration/end-of-my-rope-ness, I am seeing results that I like. Joy. Excitement. Satisfaction.

Too much and a dream.

There are times when I feel like the leash in this photo – stretched. Sometimes stress is a good thing, right?

Remember 2+ weeks ago when I wrote about the panic to get ready for the Greyhound Gathering in Kanab. I’ve made exactly 8 small foot sculptures since then and a bunch of tiles and welcome signs. It’s a start. Today I’m hoping to tackle a few wall pieces.

The resource that I lack the most is time. So I turned down a chance to be on a statewide Arts board. I’m only going to one day of the upcoming state library workshops. I’m not going to take on any more website projects, no more extras for a while. Must par down a bit so I can meet a few deadlines and achieve some long held goals.

I wish I could take 6 months off – spend the entire time working on my studio work. Until then, today….

Sunlight.

Annie_sunlight_feb2010

The Greyhounds have been weathering the weather quite well. Better than I am it seems. They, literally, find the bright spots.

sun_sage

Not there yet, but I am working on it. These are the components of my angst:

  • Boxes. I am itching to fire them, but clay dries when it wants. I could turn on the fan and up the heat in the studio – not the best practice, however. Best let them take their time. Sigh.
  • Big “Frank” sculpture. He feels dry, except for his rear end. So not dry yet either….
  • Same for Gettysburg Dog, Same for Three Dog Night sculpture. This is North Dakota. It is DRY here… right?
  • Big Runner dog is not going to fit in my kiln. I need to stop making pieces that will not fit in my kiln OR buy a bigger kiln.
  • My etsy store is empty. This is a good thing (Everything is SOLD!) but, hello!, need to restock.
  • The new Sterling Silver pendant is *this* close to done. The plan is to have it ready for the American Whippet Club 2010 National Specialty in Tucson in April. Better get going.
  • Tiles. Have we mentioned tiles at all? Must make more tiles! (Slab roller to make said tiles are buried under drying boxes).

winchester_sunlight

All of the above mean that everything is going well, that I need more exercise, that I should switch back to organic coffee (or cut out coffee entirely). The boxes and sculptures will dry. I will fire them. I will figure out what type of finish will work best for the sculptures. I will make that series of large tiles I keep thinking about. The snow will melt and the Greyhounds (and I) will be in better physical condition. I will buy a larger kiln and have it installed. The new sterling pendant will materialize. The etsy store will be stocked and restocked. And I will forget about all these things that are driving me CRAZY right now – replacing them with new “problems.”

It all means life is good.

I’m behind. And I’m sorry.

Small open box with Greyhounds

You all leave comments on this blog filled with superlatives about how I’m working or what I’m working on — they mean the world to me. But there are many areas at which I show no ability. Time management is one of those things. It’s not that I use my time poorly. I don’t think that’s the case. My problem with time – I have little talent in understanding how long things take.

My gauge is unreliable. Truly.

So I am sorry to all of you who are waiting for memory boxes. Thank you for being so patient with me. I’ve been in your shoes – just wanting to get things finished – and I hate that you’re waiting on me for a box. All I can say is that I’m working to remedy this. I’m sorry.

And to those who were counting on buying gifts for the holidays… or wanting Angel tiles for friends… or thought this would be the year for the holiday ornaments I keep talking about… or new sterling pendant designs… I’m sorry.

If only Christmas came in March. (Of course, I’d be ready for it come May…). I need a studio assistant.

Oink! Oink! goes the piggy.

I must be a pig. How else does every surface in the studio fill with stuff?

studio_oink1_112309

This is not an exaggeration. It’s like an Art Bomb blew up in here.

studio_oink2_112309

There are sculptures (and water jugs) stacked on kilns because…

studio_oink3_112309

the shelves are full with more sculptures, tiles and other stuff.

studio_oink5_112309

See, every surface. Boxes of clay. Sculptures in progress. And stuff.

studio_oink4_112309

Even the Greyhounds know this is a horrible mess.

studio_oink6_112309

Really now. Even the slab roller? (See these bags of left-over clay under the slab roller? My most vivid fantasy is that these bags disappear. But one can’t throw away clay! So there they sit, until I use them for small pieces…)

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Sage does his best to help. Sorry, Buddy. We’re going to need more thumbs for this job.