Copper Leaf Studios

copper maps ~ custom copper artwork

Respite

 


asparagus berries

Respite

Hello dear readers, today’s story is one of rest and repair. After a long, cold, muddy show, we did what any sane person would do – packed our belongings and took a few days off. I knew the show would be chilly (it was October in Ohio, after all), but who could have predicted the perfectly gorgeous days that followed??


Manitoulin sunset

We spent a lovely week up on Manitoulin Island enjoying the most amazingly beautiful sunsets ever, amidst the wild- and not so wild -life. The little cottage is surrounded by cattle farms so there are always cows languishing about, but this time we had the treat of watching 10 baby calves playing about. There weren’t as many deer as usual, but the big surprise was waking up to a group of troublemaker horses. They had run away from home and gotten stuck in the backyard, outsmarted by a wire fence that they didn’t seem ambitious enough to jump over. To give you a sense of space, those are our lawn chairs in the photo:

The funny thing about the horses was when the owner came to retrieve them – a young mom in a minivan who had to quickly coax her horses back home in time race her son off to his hockey practice. Some things, dear readers, are universal.
What else… saw a few dozen sandhill cranes, and a stray blue heron – and the most exciting sight for me, a bald eagle on the drive home. They are as amazingly huge in person as you’d expect.

What’s New on the Horizon

No shows for a while, and no wildlife, save the little chica dog and the koi.  I have some lovely commission work on my plate right now, and will share photos next week. Til then, just some good, honest studio time in the lovely quiet.
Peace ~

Chris

Wide Eyes and a Sense of Wonder

I’ve been debating what to write in this week’s newsletter… I have no new exciting projects yet (I’m still plugging along on the old exciting ones, and after that it’s time for wholesale orders and mundane things like bookkeeping and cleaning my studio).  I thought about writing an update of the large woodburned map using only bad puns (entitled “As the World Burns, part two” — totally tempting, admit it!!).  But this time of year sets me in a reflective sort of mood, and I think it’s important to embrace that.  It doesn’t usually last long, maybe only a week or two… just long enough for me to call all of the people I’ve been meaning to call, write belated letters, and reflect on the past year and look forward to the new one.  Plus, I’m a resolution kind of girl.  I know some people hate them, but to me they take two of the things I love the most — having dreams and making lists — and put them together into one neat little package.

So since you all have shared this lovely journey with me, I am going to share some of my new years’ dreams and goals with you.

2011 is a year of exploration and collaboration.  I hope to have some sweet small functional items to share in early January, as part of a collaboration with a lovely woodworker friend.  The rest of the month will be spent on a large-scale piece that has been waiting patiently on my “to do” list as the design was tweaked and materials delivered (and frankly, as I developed the necessary fortitude to tackle it without panicking).  It will be my largest piece to date at nearly 8′ tall, just edging out the 2008 COSE commission in ability to completely engulf my dining room table.

February is going to be a month of experimentation with both new products and new materials. I hope to find a good way to etch steel, a material that has thus far been finickier than the copper & zinc I currently use.  Not going to give too many details, save that I will call it a “quest” and speak in a British accent whenever I talk about it.

The rest of the year will include traveling out of state to shows, preferably ones with beaches — where admidst selling artwork I can take some time for “community research” like hunting down beach glass while “making contacts” with local diners and “networking” with turkey club sandwiches.

Beyond that, I’m going to let happen what happens!  2010 was full of lovely surprises, and I’m going to save some time to let those continue to take place.  Some of the most beautiful moments were ones I never could have planned, like losing my job, or falling off the self-employment cliff into the safety net of a lovely business, or meeting the man of my dreams.  One of the best things I did, admittedly reluctantly, was take a deep breath and let go of the false sense of security and control that was somehow comforting me.  Once I became at peace breathing in the air of uncertainty, the rest of life became much more calm.  I only hope to continue the journey that was started with wide eyes and a sense of wonder.

Have a lovely new year,

……………………..Chris

Between Two Worlds

Been doing a lot of reflecting lately, and involved in lots of interesting discussions… I find myself between two worlds.  One world is filled with artists and entrepreneurs.  As I made the move to self-employment, along the way I made a lot of entrepreneurial friends and mentors, and newsletter writers who felt like companions even if we’d never met.  Before I knew these people I had a mental stereotype of what self-employment like– and how many people could possibly be enjoying it.  There was a certain “fairy tale” aspect to the whole thing.  I didn’t think I could really do it, so I didn’t quite believe many others could either.

The other world is filled with people who don’t believe in the fairy tale.  Or believe it is a fairy tale.  That you can’t exist without a “proper” job, or at least a spouse or trust fund to support your crazy dreams.  I mean, I get it.  I used to be in this camp, or at least close enough to understand it.  It’s like when your mom wishes you’d have a child just like you.  You learn from it.  Or at least you get to experience the same crap that somebody before you did.

So my day job went away, and the sky didn’t fall in, and I’m making a living and paying my bills and feeding my child.  And I love love what I do.  And I try to explain that that to people who think it’s a fairy tale.  And do you know, I get the craziest responses.  A few people have not so subtly suggested that I am lying, which is kind of an interesting thing… I tend to speak from personal experience, so it’s hard to fit dishonesty into that equation.  But interesting that the “fairy tale” response can be so strong.

Lisa Call wrote an interesting blog post discussing her decisions surrounding her day job.  The sentence that caught my eye was this:

We must trade our time and talents in exchange for money.

Yup.  That’s it in a nutshell.  The difference between a “job” and a “career” is whether we primarily trade time or talents.  And the difference with a satisfying career is how much those talents are appreciated.

So if that’s the whole equation, what difference does it make whether the money comes from individual customers or a corporate paystub?  It’s all good as green.  It’s interesting that the process of earning money is so distinct from our work experience –not only does the average worker not handle cash, but with direct deposit doesn’t even have to ever see or sign a check.  It’s similar to how much of our food comes to us in sanitary packages with little connection to the earth it came from.  (Mind, I’m a huge fan — if I had to kill a chicken or make my own pasta for dinner, I’d have starved as soon as the cereal ran out.)

Still, it is a foreign system once you no longer take it for granted.  There’s something very authentic about earning your income directly from your customers.  There’s an accountability and an integrity present — things that should be a part of every business, but often get lost in the scale. And there’s a deeper connection to the process of spending the money, which is quite lovely. (Truly I’ve never felt so excited to pay my mortgage as the first time I did so completely from my art sales.)

So trade your time and talents for money. And sprinkle in your dreams, and your visions, and your ideals. Because it all tastes a little sweeter when it is seasoned with all of the things authentically you.

with love and reflection………………..C.

The Cupcake Lover and The Cupcake Maker

Today I’m going to tell you a little story. It’s mostly true, except the details get smooshed together in my mind so it might be kinda made up too. But you’ll get the gist. (If you want the short version, it goes a little something like this: “Follow your dreams, already. And share a cupcake.”)

The Cupcake Lover
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It’s based on a conversation I had with a good friend of mine, the Cupcake Lover. The Cupcake Lover has a nice job, but is secretly in love with another. Since jobs aren’t like marriages and the only thing you’ll really miss are the post-it notes and good pens, this would seem like an easy decision.

(shhh… go to the job you love)

But like bad marriages and unfulfilling jobs, security can get in the way of what we truly crave in life.

And once you realize the security isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, or isn’t worth sacrificing your happiness for, you feel better. Because in the end, peace of mind and loving the life you’re in has a value – a very real one.

This conversation came about because I was telling the Cupcake Lover just how completely head-over-heels happy I am in my New Job. It was barely four months ago that I lost my Real Job and headed out on my own. And kinda not like the whole “wish me well, it’s gonna be all peachy roses and yellow brick roads” on my own. More like the knot-in-my-stomache, sleepless nights “I’m going to lose my home and starve my child” kind of on my own. The On My OWN on my own — no fallback, no excuses, no direct deposit slipping living wages into my bank account like little fairies in the night. It is quite a thing, truly. Eyes wide open.
But I am in love. It isn’t easy. I didn’t think it would be. But it is a beautiful thing. A beautiful, freeing, empowering, top of the world kind of thing. No, not for everyone. But for those who have that nagging, aching feeling they’ve kept buried because they are afraid to leave the comfort of security, an amazing, “grass is truly greener when you make that leap” kind of thing.

The Cupcake Maker
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The Cupcake Maker is a lovely woman who has been selling lovely cupcakes from her home, but recently took the leap and opened a lovely shop. It is quite a thing to make a living on your own, but truly another to make this living $2.50 at a time. But yet, here she is. Enjoying life, and making others smile with buttercream and spice and red velvet. And that is a beautiful thing. She makes me want to drive across town and eat a cupcake every day just to support her dream (and my newfound molten chocolate lava addiction). But it isn’t practical, so I do the next best thing – I tell everyone I know about her. (psst, for the locals: LaBella Cupcake at 15208 Madison, Lakewood OH)

The Moral of the Story
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If you have a dream that is tugging at you, follow it. You just might amaze yourself.

If you see someone else with a dream, encourage them. And then tell the world. You can’t always buy a cupcake. Or a piece of artwork. We get it, really. But instead of saying you can’t have it, take a business card and give it to a friend. Forward a newsletter. Share a website. Spread the enthusiasm. It is beautifully infectious, and a wonderful gift to give someone who just got up the courage to take a leap.

Until next time,

Chris

Redefining Normal / Reinventing Yourself

redefining normal

As I was up to my elbows in muck at work today, I thought about the notion of “redefining normal“.? I spent a good chunk of my morning recycling hundreds of pounds of clay for my ceramics class.? And, laugh all you want, I suddenly realized that while this was a perfectly routine thing for me to do, it was probably not normal for the rest of the civilized world.? And it dawned on me that fairly soon, it would not be normal for me either.

While I won’t call it a skill, there is a certain aptitude in digging clay from a bucket and working it into usable condition.? I know this only from watching my students, who approach the container with dread and lower their fingers in slowly and cautiously as if they’re reaching into a basket of vipers.? And they look away and wince, every time.? Before they touch the clay.? I’ve never understood.? And then they dig out a couple of fingernails full and pretend they’re done.? I reach in and slap another grapefruit-sized chunk on their hands with a cheerful “there you go!” before they have a chance to walk away.

If this wasn’t going to be my normal, I tried to think of whose it would be.? I did a little mind game, trying to think of as many other professions as I could.? I got as far as my friend who is a ceramicist, then nixed it because she probably has a machine that does this for her.? Nope, really — none that I could think of.? Then I tried to think of all of the other crazy skills I had learned in this job, and where those might be useful, but discovered that they’re really pretty “niche”.? For example, I am quite good at telling if a kid is really going to throw up, or just wants to get out of his next class.? And if they are going to throw up, I am rather adept at getting them escorted out of the room fast enough that it doesn’t happen on my territory.? I am also darn good at fake-remembering my students’ names.? Quite good, actually.? I can either get them to think I know it without actually remembering it, or stall them long enough that it comes to me.? Either way, they leave with that charming little “she does remember me!” smile on their face, and I breathe a silent sigh of relief.

The biggest change I will have to my “normal” is the sheer number of people I am surrounded by.? I’m a pretty shy person, so dealing with 150+ people each day was a decent system shock when I first encountered it.? Forcing myself to interact with each one individually daily, in two-minute chunks, is kind of like the teacher-student equivalent of speed dating.? To go from that to being solo will be a pretty big adjustment.? I guess being self employed is not just a matter of economics — there’s a social and emotional paradigm shift that goes along for the ride.

Still bracing, and making sense of it all.

[For the record, the above picture is not me recycling clay, but up to my elbows in muck after cleaning out a clogged downspout drain pipe a few months back.? One “normal” I’d redefine quite happily.]