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how I get ideasI avoid shoulda, coulda, woulda mind set by collecting experiences, ideas, ramblings, random bits of nothings.
Motto: Taking chances enhances. My logbooks have become containers crammed with scraps of ideas, shadows of hard to finish ideas or those outside my ability to organize. Patterns, insane and whacky, scraps of words, lectures to myself. Most thoughts are tiny and not note worthy, but when combined later, I see a newness of thought, a freshness worth considering. It is all about paying attention. Observing and listening to everything around me, I get curious. I begin to wonder. Journals, logbooks, diaries are all the narratives of lives. Since I am diligent about writing down ideas, happenings, grumbles, I have a record of where my mind has wandered. When I get stuck, taking second and third looks at my logbooks opens up my mind to little ideas. Gotta have those little ideas first. I grab on, rush in and unleash this mental energy, letting run where it will. (Taking notes though.) Some ideas are totally insane, some worth developing, other put on the sidelines for later or just stored in the back of my mind mulling it over. |
why make art?
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Truly, I do not think that I am employable.
(you want me to wear what, show up when and look busy even if the job is finished?)
I work a lot of hours, probably more than the average, but I work on my own time schedule.
In order to get another pay check, I need to keep my creative engine in over drive.
My brain never shuts up. (She's a slave driver.)
I started out as a potter and spent 30 years making fun, festive, functional pots.
As a single parent, I was living in a ski area, so the best paying jobs were waiting tables in very good restaurants. But my kidlet was gone all day in school and I'd be gone all night if I took one of these jobs,
I decided I would try and sell my pottery.
(Could always go back and get a real job, so why not give this a shot.)
Got in my car, headed over the pass to Vail.
Found a shop that I thought could sell my wares and inquired.
Opening order: $300... After I delivered, the shop owner called me 24 hours later. Said he'd sold it all and ordered $2000. YIPPEE.
So I would make pots, not wait tables.
Notice the birds on the pot? Been adding birds to things for quite a while.
Should I bring back the women's imagery pottery?
Doesn't every woman needs a little attitude with her morning coffee?
Plus you could poke fun at some of your friend's funky habits without opening your mouth.
Yes?