How Much Does It Cost? Part II

On this very warm day in Chicago, I decided I had to get out of the house. I completed a painting today and realized that administrative tasks had been piling up. So I grabbed my laptop and now I'm working in a cafe in the Andersonville neighborhood, one of my favorite parts of town.

All of this is of course procrastination of the real task at hand today, pricing the work from my latest series. I've been avoiding it. In the past at least, I priced paintings without commitment. That is to say, the prices changed. Hard to run a business or sell when then prices are a moving target. In addition, I have heard from a number of different sources that my past pricing is too low for the quality of work I'm producing. And this takes me back to something I have written about before, art versus product.

I was thinking that my art needs to be priced to sell, what the market will support. This is Econ 101. It also assumes that my art is a product, not a commodity. As a commodity, everything changes. What is the price that I am willing to let go of an original is now the question. In fact, a good friend suggested that I price my work "as if I didn't need the money." That is quite a concept given the fear of becoming the stereotypical starving artist. Ironically, I'm not starving and there is no sign of that in sight so the fear is completely unfounded. I think my friend's advice has merit. A lot of merit.

The other thing that was pointed out to me, which I think is a common trap for emerging artists, is pricing based on size. This is one of the cases where "sizes doesn't matter." (I'm referring to art work size.) What matters is the plethora of variables such as the complexity, the amount of work it took, the quality of technical execution, the quality of the emotional impact, the message, etc. Few of these are "product" orientated. These are visceral. This is why art is a commodity.

Since I create without worrying about selling (most of the time) but focus on expressing myself honestly and in an individualistic manner (I try to at least), the pricing should follow suit. The pricing should be based on how well I expressed myself. Just as when I speak, I don't know if anyone will listen, the same is true for my art. Just because I painted doesn't mean anyone is going to "buy" it. But I believe people like honest dialogue. Selling comes back to honest expression, just as creating. This has been a difficult concept for my to digest. I am amazed by the influence the culture of commercialism has had on me. For a successful pricing scheme, I feel the need to step outside of that influence and determine the price of my expression, not of the art product.

Basically, if you want a piece of me, i.e. my expression, it is going to cost you this day forward. ;-)

Captured Accidents

This past week, I was attempting to incorporate another recommendation from Bruce Mau's "Incomplete Manifesto for Growth,"

"Capture accidents. The wrong answer is the right answer in search of a different question. Collect wrong answers as part of the process. Ask different questions."

My accident: I made too much resin for a particular piece I was working on. My previous question would have been "how do I mix just the right about of resin that I need?" The new question that arose was "what else can I do with the 'extra' resin?" That started the ball rolling.
How do I know I had an accident? I said (to myself) "dammit, I mixed too much resin." I acknowledged an unexpected situation, the accident.

I answered the new question with a new process and technique. It came to me on the fly. The result was one of my favorite pieces I have ever created. I developed a new process which was necessary since I was working with premixed and slightly cured resin. My normal process would not have worked, there wasn't enough time. So the new process was a bit of an experiment, kinda. I had played with the new process a little bit previously but never committed myself to it. This time, since I was feeling experimental and more open minded that usual, I went for it. I'm glad I did. The result is amazing. So much so, I am planning on implementing the new process again this week on a larger scale. This is still somewhat an experiment because scale is one of those variables that can change things due to the time constraints. But I'm confident in this new direction.

The other thing I find interesting are my two questions. The first is limiting, speaking of reduction, and in a sense, constraints. The second question is looking at doing more. And with more comes abundance and change. Maybe I'm reading too much into these seemingly harmless questions but I believe there is a fundamental shift in thinking that can or has occurred by viewing accidents through a different lens. Accidents are not accidents, they are opportunities. I was not expecting this "revelation" at all.

Perhaps there really isn't anything known as an accident. Perhaps accidents are something that interfere with my plans unexpectedly but allow me to take a different approach or direction. Perhaps accidents are really gifts from above.

I like this recommendation and I encourage you to acknowledge the accidents that do occur and stop for a second and ask a different question. I suspect things will turn out differently and better than imagined.

Next, I am looking at

"Study. A studio is a place of study. Use the necessity of production as an excuse to study. Everyone will benefit."

To be honest, I don't understand this one or what it is suggesting. But, I'll ponder it and hopefully it will come to me.

TGIF!

I'm sitting on the patio writing and attending to administrative tasks, eating peanut M&Ms and drinking Diet Coke (caffeine free). I was thinking TGIF. Why? I control my week and my schedule 100% now. I'm not bound by the traditional work week schedule, but I do seem to follow it relatively closely still. Being an artist is a solitary profession. I am alone most of the time. I have to be in order to do what I do. By the end of the week, not only am I tired of working but I'm also tired of being alone. The older I get, the more I want to be around people. The weekends are my time to interact with people, most of whom work the 9 to 5 daily grind.

I don't mind being alone most of the time but I have noticed a few things that I am still adjusting to. On good days, when things seem to fall into place or a finish a piece that I not only enjoyed creating but I like the end result, I alone can celebrate my success. There isn't anyone nearby or close to share the excitement. I'm slowly learning to celebrate my own successes, to celebrate me. Of course it is always nice to share these experiences with others but being alone doesn't lessen the fact that I accomplished something good and I can be a very good cheerleader for myself. Although I haven't figured out how to pat myself on the back without hurting myself and ending up in an advanced yoga position.

On bad days, when things seem to fall apart, I get rejected from a gallery, a piece gets damaged, or one of the countless things that can happen in a day, there isn't anyone there to help console me. I also am learning how to comfort myself (without binging on junk food). At the same time, there isn't anyone one to criticize either. Reducing criticism is very important for anyone. I believe it slow erodes at self confidence (subject for another day).

The more I rely on myself and less on the approval, rejection, consolation, celebration of others, the more that I enjoy the moments I spend with other people. I'm not leaning on them. We now interact together, what is going on with you, what is going on with me. Basic stuff. But the basic stuff can be rather deep sometimes. We lean on each other. It is mutual, not one way. I don't need to rely on others to help provide me with a sense of identity or, on the flip side, my identity is not dependent on the views, actions and emotions of others. I'm free and detached which, ironically, allows me to be more available to them. We can deal with the interaction, not the trivial details.

So when it gets to be quitting time or the weekend, I'm excited. I have the opportunity to mingle with my friends and possibly meet new ones. And we get to interact together without all the crap of the week. It was taken care of. Plus I get the opportunity to be alone so I can do what I do best, produce images that challenge people to look at things differently, whether they like it or not.

I'm nearly done here for the week. I have a few more things to do and then I'm heading downtown for a gallery opening. I wonder who I might run into tonight.

I Yearn Therefore I Am

I was having lunch today with some friends when Tom used the word "yearning." I mentioned that people don't use the work "yearning" much. To be honest, I thought I should look it up just in case it is one of those words I use incorrectly (yes, it happens). One definition that kept popping up is "To have a strong, often melancholy desire. " Seems intense to me. But, I can also relate.

As an emerging artist, I have notice that I have many yearnings. I yearn to create original and impactful art. I also yearn to sell it. Sometimes, since I am single, I yearn for a relationship and companionship. Ironically, in past relationships, I have yearned to be single again. I think this is nothing more than "the grass is always greener." I digress.

It is the fact that there is melancholy attached to the strong desire that I fine the most interesting. But it is true, I do have some pensiveness and/or sadness attached to the idea of selling my art work. I have to let it go and live its own life away from me so I do mourn a bit when I sell. On the flip side, when I'm not selling, I mourn the lack of money. In creating the art, a similar process takes place. I have a very strong desire to create something "good" and yet, if I don't or suspend the notion of "good", I'm left with the simple act of creating regardless of the impact so my urge goes unsatisfied. I continue to yearn.

At times, I yearn to stop yearning. Fat chance that will happen! I would prefer to focus on the here and now, the process, the act of creating and let the future and goals sort themselves out for themselves. But as hard as I try, I still have some future focus, some desire that is currently going unfulfilled. Maybe that is human nature. Maybe it is okay to yearn, knowing that if/when my desire is fulfilled, things will change and that is where the sadness comes in, mourning what was while embracing what can or will be. I feel like I'm making this more complex than it is. Basically, in order for me to get something, I have to let go of something else first. In that context, yearning may not be so bad after all. And, it really may be the right description for creating something new or letting something go.

I just noticed that I have resin all over my leg. I yearn to be clean so I have to go wash my leg.

Go Deep

This past week in attempting to live Bruce Mau's "Incomplete Manifesto for Growth" I focused on going deep, namely,



"Go deep. The deeper you go the more likely you will discover something of value."



After a week of contemplation and mediation on this recommendation, I have no clue what it means or how to apply it. It sounds like a good idea but may be too esoteric to be practical. It hits me as a saying I would find in a fortune cookie instead of good advice.



I struggled with this one. I thought maybe it referred to my emotional state when I was

I Feel Stagnate, True or False?

I have started hanging me art work on my own walls. I always have but now I'm doing more as I am running out of space to store the unsold work. Ironically, I'm procrastinating in selling. Part of me views my current work as experimental and not yet good enough for public display much less to sell. At the same time, I know the quality of many of my pieces is very high and usually elicits a response from viewers. I'm floating in the sea of lack of confidence. Until I change that, I suspect my work will not sell well from the mere fact that I probably do not give my work the recognition it deserves.

I have seen this manifest itself in many ways over the past few months, procrastination, lethargy, self sabotage, avoidance, excuses and even in a few cases, straight you refusal to do more. The only true answer is that at the moment, I feel vulnerable. I am in the transition phase where I am no longer a office going corporate guy but I'm not fully the self supporting artist as well. To push forward will require another leap of faith, jumping off the cliff into the world of retail, be it galleries, on-line or other avenues to sell my work. I think I may have been waiting for someone to give me a little shove but honestly I don't want that. I want to stand up and take a step, any step. I want to break the stagnation that I feel.

Reality is however that I'm not stagnate, not even close. I keep myself busy (most days) and I work at creating new pieces, finishing up old ones, and slowly enter in the world of eBay. So, if I'm doing things in, what I feel is, the right direction, why do I have this nagging feeling of being stagnate? Impatience is a possible culprit. And the impatience may also be coupled with that fact that I know I can do more. I'm having problems adjusting my daily schedule and maintaining a high level of energy to do more. So I want things to change rapidly, but the more rapid things change, the more energy I expel to keep my balance. I wonder what would happen if I give a big push and allow myself to fall down. Falling down isn't all the bad. I'll surround myself with soft pillows so I won't get hurt.

Ugly Duckling or Signpost?

This past week I was working on the forth recommendation of Bruce Mau's "Incomplete Manifesto for Growth", namely,

"Love your experiments (as you would an ugly child). Joy is the engine of growth. Exploit the liberty in casting your work as beautiful experiments, iterations, attempts, trials, and errors. Take the long view and allow yourself the fun of failure every day."

This week, I allowed myself to play and experiment a bit more than usual. It was uncomfortable. I have been programmed that failure is a bad thing to be avoided. In order to experiment and try next approaches or techniques, I had to definitely focus on the process more than the outcome (last weeks suggestion). No success, no failure. Here, more so than last week, I notice my compulsion for creating a product. That is to say, I was concerned how the final work my look and/or be received by others. Shaking "failing" was not easily done.

I pondered the "ugly child" metaphor a bit. An ugly child has beauty within, that is to say, the other positive attributes the child has, besides looks. I tried to apply this to my experiments this week. I wanted to see what "value" these experimental works had, what did they have to show me. It was hard to do. I couldn't see it. Given that I am a visual artist, the visual aspect was predominate in my thinking. They didn't look good (according to me) and I also had to suspend my expectations and desires of how the piece "should" look. I could not push my views on it. I had to accept it as is. No easy feat. Painful and frustrating in fact.

A few weeks ago, I was blessed with a stream of images that I am still attempting to capture. All of these are different in theme and technique from my most recent work. They are experiments. In working these pieces specifically, I had tried to keep the suggestions from the "Incomplete Manifesto" in mind, or at least the ones I've attempted to incorporate. The first piece, based on my standard thinking, didn't work out. I didn't like it. But, yet I was proud that I tried to stretch. I put it aside and began the second. Another approach hit me and before using it on the second piece, I returned to the first piece and applied it. After all, I couldn't "wreck" it since I didn't care for it in the first place. It became my sandbox. Low and behold, the new approach added to the piece bring it to life. The reason I didn't like the image was because I hadn't completed it yet. What a revelation! I was too quick to judge. I was ready to throw it out. Now, I can see what steps are now needed to truly finish it. I used the new approach on the second piece from the start and although I like the direction, the feeling is nothing like the first. Maybe the second one will reveal itself later as well.

Some of my experiments may result in a fantastic image, or they may yield nothing. I suspect that they will more often land in the middle, pointing to a new direction or quietly waiting for more knowing that it isn't yet complete. Ugly or a masterpiece, art has the opportunity and possibility to expand beyond the limits I have given it.

This week, I will focus on then next suggestion:

"Go deep. The deeper you go the more likely you will discover something of value."

Do Something

"You can't do anything about the length of your life, but you can do something about its width and depth." - Shira Tehrani

I Expect You to Read This

A buzz word for me this week has been "expectations". I looked up the definition, which said, the act of expecting. That didn't explain it to me so I looked up "expecting".

1. a. To look forward to the probable occurrence or appearance of:
b. To consider likely or certain: expect to see them soon.
2. To consider reasonable or due:
3. To consider obligatory; require:
4. Informal To presume; suppose.

The last definition of the informal use, "to presume", triggered me. This is why I have been struggling with expecations lately, others expectations of me, and my expecations of others and myself. The focus is on the future and are often undeclared. (The undeclared expectations get me in trouble all the time.) All of a sudden, I see this word with a lot of power and influence now only on the future but also on how I feel and respond in the present and how I remember the past. It also impacts how I interact with others and the world. I gravitate towards people and situations where my expectations are fulfilled and drift away from situations where they are not. I end up manipulating my situation and my attitudes so that my expectations are realized one way or another.

If I expect something to happen tomorrow, and when tomorrow comes, something else had occurred, my expectations go unfulfilled. If my expectations continue to go unfulfilled, I remember that they have been lacking for a while and I noticed that my expectations change in such a way that I expect that they will be unfulfilled and thereby, I fulfill my new expectations, my expectation that my original expectations will not come true. My memory of the past influences what I want in the future. I don't want to be disappointed so I change the expectations to fit what "will" be coming along. On the flip side, if I often get what I want then over time, I learn to expect that I will get what I want. One way or another, my expectations will be realized. I heard it often described as writing my story. I have a story to that describes me, what has happened to me and what will happen to me. That story are my expectations.

So I throw in the exercise of focusing on the process and not the outcome and things get interesting for me. Expectations are focused on the future often outcomes. Therefore, the power of expectations may be reduced by concentrating on the here and now and doing instead of what might happen in the future. Wow! I can't imagine the impact of "letting go". My head is spinning a bit from all of this but I think there is something here. I wonder what is the impact of minimizing the effects of expectations. Perhaps that will free me to be more present in the moment and less critical in general. Perhaps this will help me "get out of the way" and let things unfold naturally. I don't think it is possible to eliminate expectations but I can see how changing them can play a pivotal role in the idea of positive thinking and manifestion. I can also see how reducing my concentration on them may change me to be more open and flexible.

When I sat down to write this afternoon, I had no idea what I was going to write about. I was without any expectations except that I would write something. I experienced exactly what I presupposed what would happen. It appears to me that my expectations were fulfilled once again.

Sell it on eBay!

Commercialism is a rush!

I just finished setting up my eBay Store for Nolan Studios (http://stores.ebay.com/nolanstudios). I expect to have items listed by the end of the week. I am currently experiencing a rush of adrenaline coupled with a bit of anxiety. This is uncharted territory for me. I like the idea of being a "shopkeeper." It feels so medieval. Since I quit my corporate job to focus on art full time, the past 3 months have been packed with first experiences and there seemed to be no end in sight. Change is coming faster and faster, and with it, I'm doing more and more. It seems to feed on each other. The more I do, the more things change. The more things change, the more I do. Along with it, I am gaining a rise in personal energy. Today was one of the most productive days I've had in ages or even perhaps ever. I'm very excited. Just one more day on the emotional roller coaster.

The excitement today is originating from the idea that it is possible to step outside of the conventional norm and thrive. I have been having doubts. What I mean by stepping outside the norm is being true to myself, deciding specifically not to follow the crowd or societal expectations, but to do my own "thing." I have hope now. Hope for the future, hope for the present. I am willing to try for the sake of trying, not for what might come out of it. I don't think I could have said that in the past. I always felt constrained, limited, suppressed, intimidated. Sure, I was successful, according to the definition of others, but I never felt that way. I always felt like I fell short. The truth is, I was falling short, according to my standards. And with falling short, I criticized myself and others. That didn't help AT ALL! If fact, I think it made things worse. I was so focus on the flaws of others, I distracted myself from seeing what I wanted, what I needed to work on, how I could be a better person, how I had the potential to make myself happy.

So what I noticed about being true to myself is that I have to let go. (No, this is not an ad for Alcoholic Anonymous - Let go, Let God. Never a bad idea however.) I have to let go of expectations, those I have for myself, those I have for others, and those others may have for me. Only then can I truly be true to myself, step outside convention and do my thing. I want to focus my energy on what I have control over, namely me. Everyone else can go do their thing while I do mine. This all sounds very good to me. I'm not there yet.

What does this have to do with eBay? Today, I let go of the negative comments I have heard that one cannot make money selling art on eBay. I think I may have even repeated it (if not believed it) myself. Before I pushed the button, a wave of anxiety hit me. That was all I needed to feel to KNOW this was the right thing to do. I threw away old expectations and beliefs based on hearsay and conjecture (I wonder how much fact actually lives in expectations) and pushed the button. Instantaneously, the anxiety turned into excitement for what may happen next, what door this may have opened. Old habits are hard to break but I think it is time for me to let go some more. I enjoy being an artist and a shopkeeper.

Process, Process, Process

Last week, I tried to incorporate the third recommendation from Bruce Mau's "Incomplete Manifesto for Growth" which is:

"Process is more important than outcome. When the outcome drives the process we will only ever go to where we've already been. If process drives outcome we may not know where we’re going, but we will know we want to be there."

I found this one fascinating, mainly due to my past life in corporate America as a Six Sigma Black Belt, or the process efficiency guy.

Everything is a process. Every process has and outcome. Every outcome has a process. It is a question of priorities. When the outcome is emphasized (as in business), the process is refined and tweaked to ensure that the outcome is repeatably, predictably, of the highest quality for the lowest cost. Makes sense if your a factory and you want to make 100,000 widgets that are all the same. The flip side, which is what this week was about, is placing emphasis on the process and allowing the process to naturally produce the outcome. I interpreted this approach along the lines of the old adage "its the journey, not the destination that matters." There's a lot here, not just in a heady, philosophical way but also in a daily pragmatic approach to things.

First, I had to undo years of training and work experience. No easy task. I think I only began to untie the knot. Towards the end of the week I was equating it to un-brainwashing me. For me, the process-outcome connection was learned and fortified over the years. Start with what you want in the end and then back into the process or series of tasks to make it happen. And by the way, make it happen the same every time, as cheap as possible. As an artist, this approach limits me. I limit myself by creating in advance of the creation what I want it to be.

Recognizing that I was handicapped in breaking my old habits, I began to play with the process, focusing on the process and not worrying about the result it may produce. Images I had had for some time I found the courage to tackle. In the past, my thoughts would have circled around things such as "I don't know how to technically achieve that look," or "I can't do that," or "It won't look right," etc. You get the point. I was self sabotaging. So I wouldn't start. Focusing on the "doing" part versus the "result" part freed me from those old thoughts. They hold no value if I am playing with "what if I do this or that". That was the first big thing I noticed. I started doing more, starting doing new.

The other thing I noticed was that my process became creative itself. I changed the order of the steps, I changed the tools I used, the colors I used and even the media in a few cases. All under the guise of "what if". I had fun. I enjoyed the experimentation and, to top it off, the results I also enjoyed. I didn't just like them, I enjoyed them. I felt accomplishment not only from what I did, but the entire time I was doing it. Focusing on the process extended my sense of accomplishment, appreciation and gratitude well beyond the final product. And, I am excited to go back and try again, to do more. I have a sense of curiosity. What will happen next.

Of course the outcomes are not a complete surprise. As a rational person I know that a certain process automatically aims me to produced something withing the realm of what I was thinking. The details however are determined in flight by the process of the day, of the moment. That is the fun part. That is the creative part.

I like that I can see and do this from both perspectives, process-outcome and outcome-process. There are some things that are not open or beneficial to be nebulous and up for grabs. The other things, the creative things I do, definitely benefit from me letting go and allowing. This I think is the biggest benefit of focusing on the process. It allows me to let go and allow things to unfold naturally. I get out of the way.

This week, I'm exploring:

"Love your experiments (as you would an ugly child). Joy is the engine of growth. Exploit the liberty in casting your work as beautiful experiments, iterations, attempts, trials, and errors. Take the long view and allow yourself the fun of failure every day."

How Much Does It Cost?

My block has been removed, hopefully for a while. I don't enjoy being blocked. This week, I have been painting up a storm. In fact, I don't have enough space to do all the things I want to so I am pacing myself. I'm also running low on supplies which should be arriving in a day or so (how did we live without the Internet?). Regardless, I have things I want to do, namely marketing.

From many artist I speak with, or people in general, marketing is not easy. I fall into this category as well. I find it difficult not only putting a price on my work but also then hitting the pavement and attempting to get it sold. It is far from glamorous but a necessity if I plan to eat in the future. I have found that art fairs are a lot of work and little in way of sales. I am beginning to think that many people who go to art fairs are not serious art buyers but using it more for entertainment. I'm okay with that and recognition is always a good thing but at some point I want cash not just accolades. I have often tried galleries and will attempt them again in the future. There the clientele is more serious but I am limited by the gallery owner selecting me and then turning the shows over quickly so their clients don't get bored. It is all part of the game but not to my benefit.

So now, I'm in the process of attaining a representative. I view them as my sales and marketing arm. This is what they are good at, they have the connections, my work is accessible to their client 100% of the time and the best part, I don't have to do it. It seems like a win-win to me.

The final step however to all of these avenues is pricing. What is that magic dollar amount the people are willing to spend and I am willing to release my work for? There is a special number. But the number changes depending on a number of factors such as the piece, the area, the artist popularity and other subjective variables. And there lies the issue. The criteria used to determine a price is subjective. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and since art is a commodity, at the end of the day, all the criteria gets thrown out of the window in I end up in a negotiation for the art work. No, I am not willing to take anything they throw at me. My work has value.

That got me thinking. What other things in my life are subjective that others or myself place value? I think most things in my life are subjective and the value changes, everything from relationships with others to the price of my house or car. And many values are determined (or dictated) by others, imposed on me, or at least if feels that way. If my priorities, likes or goals don't line up with others, how are we to find the common value? I may hold value of something that someone else finds meaningless and visa-versa. I haven't met anyone who has the exact same priorities, likes or goals. It is quite a dilemma. I don't have an answer.

A storm is approaching on this warm July afternoon so I want to finish up, move inside and close up the windows. I value my life (priceless) and I'm not in the mood to be struck by lightening, at least not today.