Acceptance and Rejection

This is going to be a hard piece to write. I don’t know about you, but I have a hard time with rejection. It’s hard to face it when it happens but even harder when you have to wait for it. 

Creating a piece of artwork is work. It requires all the same elements as any job. 

Set aside specific days and times. Purchase and set up materials: clay, paint, tools, brushes, colored underglazes and glazes. 

As an artist, I work on my pieces with love, patience and determination.

Here’s a peek at the process: 

I roll out the clay slab and cut it into a square. 

Decide whether it’s a face or a flower or in this case both. 

Make the face by cutting and shaping a circle. 

Cut out and sculpt the eyes, nose and mouth. 

Slip and score those pieces to make the face. 

Then cut out, shape, score and place the 25+ petals in the right places. 

Add details like the 20 dots to go around the face in between the petals.

Then when it’s dried a bit, start painting in all of the details. 

Mix a bit of yellow with red for a golden color. 

Apply it to all the petals. 

Apply different underglaze colors for the eyes, lips, eyebrows and seeds. 

Let it dry. This can take days or weeks depending on the clay and weather.

If all goes well and nothing cracks, it’s time to do the first firing in the kiln. 

If bisque firing goes well and nothing cracks, it’s then time to apply the final clear glaze.  

The final glaze had to be poured carefully over the piece while turning it to keep it even. 

Repeat this with each of the 12 pieces. 

This takes not just days, but weeks and months. 

The glaze must dry.

Each piece is carefully loaded into the kiln for the final firing.  

I am my own ‘kiln sitter’, so I must be here to turn the kiln up at each stage. 

This can take another day and cooling might take several days. 

Ok…done, right? Nope. 

Each piece is sanded and wiped down. 

A dozen or more shadow box frames are purchased. 

Wire hangers are applied to the back of each frame. 

Then, each piece was carefully centered, measured and attached inside the frame.

And each piece was hung to make sure it was safe and strong. 

Done now? Nope. 

Each piece needed to be digitally photographed for social media and gallery marketing.

Done now? Nope.

The marketing begins: social media posts, gallery contact, applications and emails. 

Then: The Wait. Rejection? Acceptance? 

This can take months. 

In this last case: it went on and on for months. 

First send in something and wait. 

Then get told to send it again in 2 more months. 

Wait 2 months. Send it again. Then wait again. 

Finally 2 more months later, get rejected. 

With an email ‘apology’ that the gallery contact went on

 vacation 

for a month before they could get back to you.

Wow. Really? 

There was no internet available to send a 5 minute rejection email?

Yeah. Thanks a lot. 

Look, it’s never fun to be rejected. I’ve been in and out of many different shows and galleries over the 20 years I’ve been showing my work. But for someone to sit on your application because they ‘had’ to go on vacation for a month is: Inexcusable. 

And Unprofessional.  

And, yes, it hurts. 

How would you feel, if this happened to you?

Ok. I know, I’m crazy but I applied to another show that I got rejected from years ago. 

And I got in! 

They loved my pieces. 

They were worried about the framing. 

But they really liked my work.

So they figured out a way for my framed clay work to fit into their show. 

And they let me know right away. 

Now, that’s what I call true professionalism. 

So, yes, I got a rejection. 

But then, I got an acceptance, too. 

Life and art it’s all about balance, isn’t it?

                                   

Doodling

With everything that’s swirling around in my mind and, perhaps yours, I’m looking for calm. Something to do that draws my attention away from the chaos out there. I’m not saying I want to stick my head in the sand and ignore it all. Even though that sounds wonderful right now. I’m just looking for a small slice of normal, everyday life. 

So here’s what I decided to do (and not to do). 

First: Take my sweet doggy for a walk to the park. 

Second: Take an internet break for the rest of the day. No more googling. 

Third: Bake lemon/blueberry muffins. 

Fourth: Sit on the window seat and look out at the blue sky and puffy clouds. 

Fifth: Doodle.

Baking. 

I love to bake. There’s just something about stirring up a batch of muffins that calms my body and soul. Measuring the flour and sugar. Melting the butter. Gently stirring in the blueberries. 

Then there’s the delicious smell as they bake in the oven. I’ll make tea while I wait for them to cool. Teatime! Yum!!

Blue Sky. 

And I don’t mean another social media site. I mean the real thing. 

Puffy white clouds floating in a clear cerulean blue sky. Watching them move. Looking for shapes as they change with the wind. 

Doodle. 

I guess you could call it drawing. But if I did, I’d get all wound up in getting it ‘right’. 

When I doodle, I don’t have an expectations. I just get my black gel pen and start making marks. Anywhere. Little squiggles. Wavy lines. Circles around circles around more circles. Then I add some watercolor crayon marks and swish a wet brush around it all. 

It’s fun and relaxing and if it looks weird, I’m ok with that. 

After all, it’s just a doodle. 

And if it makes me smile, it’s a win. 

Clay Paintings

Over the last year, I’ve been doing a lot of drawing and doodling with no agenda in mind. I’m just letting my brush or pen take me where it wants to go. If I see a line I like, I follow it. If a color jumps out, I swoosh it on my brush and onto the paper. 

I’ll admit, my first art class was a landscape watercolor class at a small local gallery when I was in high school. I was surrounded by very serious people with way more talent and expertise than me. But, I hung in there. I watched. I mixed colors. And my favorite thing was using the wet into wet watercolor technique. 

I’ve taken many art classes since then, which might make its own blog, but here’s the thing: I don’t call myself a painter. Ever. 

Relaxing and recovering. 

When I had my surgery, I needed something to do. A way to create. A way to get back into my playful spirit. Watercolors and gel pens were just what I needed. 

I filled a sketch book with landscapes, flowers, trees, blue skies and sunsets. That’s all. Simple. Easy. Not art with a capitol A. They started to pile up, so I had to find a shelf in my studio to keep them out of the way. 

But I think they had other plans. 

The mystery of art. 

When I threw clay on my wheel, I knew what I was going to make: cups, bowls, and  vases. But that’s not always the case when I roll out a clay slab. Over the last year or so, things began to slowly change. My slabs sprouted petals and leaves and stems. Some were landscapes.

What I didn’t see then is that I’d already made them, I just didn’t know it. 

Down on a bottom shelf in my studio was a pile of papers from my drawing pad. In the pile were flowers and landscapes and sunsets that I’d drawn or painted when I couldn’t do clay. I did them and stacked them on a shelf and moved on. Or so I thought.  

The painted flower 

The tulips

The orchid

All went from doodles on paper to reliefs on clay. 

So I’ve decided to call them Clay Paintings.  

What do you think?