In the middle of a teensy-weensy Summer Break between semesters, and no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to get the damn house clean.
Nearly every free day I've had over the last week, I've awakened with the best of intentions. Break out the vacuum cleaner, put away some of the clean laundry, wash the dishes - then comes the Grand Attempt.
And every day, I've been subverted.
This week, it's been sabotaged by Art Supplies.
Today in particular - after 10 hours, I'm so exhausted I can hardly move. Every part of my body hurts. I haven't stopped moving for more than five minutes at a time.
And the ever-loving house still looks like a train wreck.
Today, I spent the day doing a pouring of one of the frames. Because the other day, I had three total strangers ask if I had any pieces available to sell - and I had to say, I don't have any finished and ready to sell.
How weird is that?
I started out doing these silly things simply because I was too cheap to just go out and buy some frames at Target or something. Then, it was something amusing to do in my free time, which I seemed to have a lot more of back then.
Somewhere along the line, it developed into a kind of obsessive compulsive activity. Sculpting, sanding, experimenting with different compounds to get the right texture or consistency or what have you. Again, too cheap to go the easy route and just buy some kind of pre-made sculpting compound - oh no, I must make my own!
Then came the finishes - so many colors of paints to choose from, inks, brushes, pigments and metallics and - and - and -
Anyway, I end up with these wacky things I kinda like. They're neat. And whenever people see them, they seem to like them, too.
A while back, I decided to try to 'take my art seriously'. I taught myself how to make molds, and then how to make castings from them. During this process, again, I was experimenting; searching for the perfect materials and methods.
At one point, long story short - I was propositioned and allowed myself to be courted and wooed by a manufacturer that wanted to mass produce and market my designs. They wanted to 'see that you're compensated for what you do so that you have the freedom to do what you do best - just create!' Seductive sounding, isn't it? Again, the short version - my work is sold without my permission and I'm given a bill for their production costs. One lawyer later, I'm seriously disillusioned about my work and anyone who expresses interest in it. I don't touch art supplies for a couple of years.
Anyway, here I am again. Monkeying around with stuff.
I wish I could say that I derive as much pleasure from it as I used to.
There's still something cool about it. It's cool to take your stuff someplace just to get some supplies, and have total strangers oooh and aaah and want to offer you money for something you just started out doing for the hell of it.
But it feels a lot more like iffy work for only potential payoff now. Somewhere along the line, it stopped being fun.
I liked it a whole lot better when I was just kind of carried away with the process, without any kind of thought for the 'product'. The idea of working on a 'product' is a whole lot less enjoyable.
It's an attitude thing, I guess. Just have to stop thinking about the part that doesn't feel good to think about, and just try to get back the old sense of fun about the process.
It's just weird to be hip-deep in copies of something you've already done, just not done in the right way to make them, in my own opinion, saleable. Oh, I think, the casting compound is too heavy. Or the mold for this one didn't include the interior rim, so they're flat-backed and how do you ounted a mirror and install hardware to make them hangable?
Sometimes I just want to chuck them all in the trash and never look back. Just go back to reading all the time in the little spare time there seems to be these days.
Then I think about the idea of something of mine living in someone else's living room. I think about how cool it is to know that someone else, even a total stranger, likes something that I did enough to want to bring it into their home.
Tired. Sorry for the babbling.