Creative Crossroads or "Art"life Crisis?

While I usually find myself keeping my blog to more positive and newsy entries, I feel like I need to write about what I’ve been struggling with the last few weeks. So, I’ll get up on my soapbox. Whenever I complete a big production cycle and take time to regroup and get organized for the next phase of deadlines and events I always go through a period of reflection that can be positive (what worked, what sold, what I’m excited about working on) but often (due mainly to my nature) becomes negative (what didn’t work, what the heck am I doing? I need to go back to a “normal” job, etc.). I’ve been having a hard time getting myself through the sea of angst after this summer’s art fairs and I think I’m having some kind of “art”life-crisis. I’m not 100% sure why. My shows were actually pretty good, I won a couple of awards, I got lots of good feedback and had decent sales in light of the economy. But, I feel like I’m at some kind of crossroads and can’t figure out clearly which direction to go. I’ve come from a tradition of making functional work, but my current work has moved into such a decorative and time-intensive process that the model of making lots and lots of functional pieces (mugs, cereal bowls, etc) is becoming unrealistic with the amount of work that goes into each piece. As I’ve developed my illustration and decoration process, it’s become a meticulous series of steps to get the results I want. I don’t feel like I can compromise on this—it’s what makes my work special. Unfortunately (at least in this region) as long as your work is functional, no matter what kind of time has gone into the piece there is a definite ceiling on what you can sell a pot for. If it’s a mug, it should be $25. My mugs should be $100 based on time. I sell them for $36. When I raised the price to $40 this summer they stopped selling. I moved the price back. I hate to make creative decisions based on sales, but the reality is, this is my job. I need to contribute to my family’s bottom-line. I need to pay the bills. I need to save money so my kid can go to college some day and I won’t be bankrupt at retirement age. Just because I love my job and get to make beautiful things doesn’t mean I don’t deserve financial stability. My reality is this: I can only sell my pieces for as much as the market allows. I can only make so many pieces in a given amount of time. They actually are made by hand, from start to finish. If this doesn’t add up right, something has to change. So…then I start over-thinking the options. One possibility is to develop a “wholesale” or production line that is less time-intensive than my one-of-a-kind stuff.  Still, how to make enough of it and market it is opening another can of worms. Another option is to focus on moving my work farther from functional and closer to “art.”  People will spend more on a piece of art than than they will on a mug. I know other potters who have made this transition and found some success. This is a hard leap for me to make though. I’ve always made dishes and I love that connection to daily use. I really don’t know what the answer is, but I know I haven’t found the magic key yet to both making what I love and making a good living. I’d be interested to hear your thoughts on this!

Mother's Day

As show deadlines loom over me, it has felt really hard lately to try to be a mother and an artist and hold it all together. No matter where I am...studio, home, playground...I feel guilty about what I'm not getting done somewhere else. Some days I'm not sure it's worth it! I watch other ceramic artists moving forward more quickly, getting more pots made, doing bigger shows and find myself feeling jealous. The days are gone when I can just live in the studio to meet deadlines. I feel in many ways like my career has been put on hold. What I can get done in my studio time is what I can do. My kid obviously is my number one priority. On the other hand, having a child is a truly amazing experience. It is so much fun watching his personality emerge. He is learning more and more words every day, and getting more independent. I never thought I would be getting teary on Mother's Day over my 16 month old eating a bowl of cheerios by himself with a spoon for the first time. Finding a balance is hard, but I know I wouldn't give up being either a mother or an artist. So, I'll keep trying to make it work.