Virtual Shows: The New Normal

It’s the COVID Anniversary. Cue the single finger salute, please. Right? Let’s all take a blissful step back in time to pre-COVID. Remember that time?

A year ago, I went out to lunch with a friend at an indoor restaurant. Shopped for a new pair of slippers(who knew they would become my primary footwear for the next year). Went to a large group meeting where I talked, smiled, laughed, hugged friends and got information about the upcoming big group show. 

Ghosts of the past?

Will big group shows and open studio tours and gallery art walks ever come back? There is an energy in being part of a large group of people with a creative focus. Setting up the show’s group booth and gallery was such a satisfying task. 

As an artist working alone in my own studio, I love my quiet creative space. But throughout the year, I looked forward to working alongside other artists, setting up displays, helping with stocking, working the cash register and wrapping. Did I get tired and overwhelmed at times? Sure. Did I want to do the event again? You bet. But COVID stopped it all. 

Virtual art sales.  

I’ve always had an online presence with a professional website and I’ve been using social media for years. But COVID has changed and intensified the whole online landscape.

While I used to spend time pricing and packing my work for a gallery or show, now I upload my work for my Etsy shop or an upcoming Virtual Show. It might seem the same, but it’s not. Yes, I built my own website on WordPress and updated it from time to time. I’ve got an Etsy shop. While online marketing used to be in addition to shows, it’s now THE show. 

This week, a large part of my studio time was spent shopping the best online options for my work: domain, web hosting and template costs. Should I give up Etsy and go to Big Cartel? Should I stay with Go Daddy and WordPress or go to Squarespace? Can I get the changes made in time for the Virtual Show?

Whew. One step at a time. I took new photos for the Virtual Show.  I found a new website platform. But best of all, I found time to get my hands dirty doing my most favorite thing pre and post COVID: throw and build some clay cups, bowls and little plates. 

Let me add hope. That the new normal can mix with the old normal. That virtual can mix and mingle and thrive with the actual.  

Believe More

It’s been a hard year to believe. I know when I chose believe as my word of the year for 2019, I saw it as a way to move forward while surrounded by backward motion. I didn’t know then, of course, how far backward things in this country could move. 

Finger pointing.  Bullying behavior. Lies. Sexual harassment. Hostile work environments for high level officials. More lies. Refusal of people to work together for the greater good and not just the good in their checkbooks. More finger pointing. 

Worse a ‘leader’ who is only interested in his own ego. Who has no idea or caring about the great democratic country in which he lives. Who is only out to ‘make a deal’ for himself. Who almost succeeded in bullying to cheat his way through another election. 

It’s hard. But I can’t give up. I won’t. 

Believe in truth.  And truthful people. 

I believe in the whistleblowers. I believe in the career public servants who know why and how and what to do in their jobs at home and away. Without these dedicated professionals employed in our military, diplomatic and justice service, we would be in even graver danger. 

I admire their courage in spite of hostility thrown at them. I’m encouraged by their courage to stand up, speak out about the unethical and illegal acts happening around them. And I admire their dedication to their jobs that involve keeping so many people safe here and around the world. 

Believe in goodness.

I believe in the goodness of our beliefs. The rights that are written into our Bill of Rights. The ideals of our constitution. And I believe there’s only one way to truly show my belief. Voting. We must maintain our most precious right with better security and support. 

I believe in the goodness of people. People who adopt stray animals. Donate food. Clean up our world. Build homes for others. Give clothes and blankets and toys. I see people who embody all that is the best in America. I do my best, even as little as it is, to make our world a good place. 

Believe in love and kindness. 

It’s there. It’s in you and me. It’s how we all not just survive but truly thrive. Together. 

I believe it. 

I believe in you even more now. 

I believe the truth will shine out through this darkness. 

Time Marches On

My daughter just had a baby. She was my first baby. My daughter has a son. My son has a daughter. They’re delightful, healthy and wonderful and I’m a delighted and grateful. 

I see my two babies grown up and having babies. They are older and, therefore, so am I. Oh, I’ve spent a long time in denial but time can not be denied. Nor should it. But in our society, especially for women, age is seen as something to hide. 

Cosmetics, procedures, diets, books, fitness programs are all sold to reverse or stop aging. But, we all know the truth, time marches on whether we like it or not. 

I’ve decided to like it. 

“Yup”, I said to my granddaughter, “I do have some white hair.” When she asked why, I said that my hair has changed during my life just like I’ve changed. When I was her age, my hair was almost the same color as hers, strawberry blonde. But as I got older, my hair got darker. And now, it’s getting lighter again. And I think the new lighter highlights will make my fair skin and blue eyes look even better. 

Nope, I don’t weigh 100 pounds anymore. But now I have muscles that can lift my granddaughter up high, throw clay, handle a 60 pound dog, prune trees, haul heavy grocery bags and do planks. And because I walk a mile or more everyday and do yoga, I can bend and stretch and climb stairs without pain. 

Ok, my knee may creak a bit, sometimes I get stiff. And that’s an important message from my body to take time to breathe and stretch. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to waste my time or anyone else’s complaining about it. Age does not give me cart blanc to whine. 

We live in a very ageist society. Women and men are expected to work until a certain ‘age’ and retire. Well, guess what? We don’t have to. I have had several women come up to me recently and ‘assume’ I am retired. When I say I am a working artist, they respond with, “Oh, you’re retired with a hobby.” Seriously? 

I’ve also decided to change how I see me. 

For years, I’ve been in denial of my wrinkles. I’ve refused to see my glasses as a sign of age. But they are there, right before my eyes. So it’s time to see them, and maybe give them some love, instead of hate. They do make it easy and far more comfortable to put all those details that I love into my art. 

Maybe it’s also time to see myself through a new lenses of experience as not just a survivor but someone who thrives. Someone who went through pain and heartache and fearful times and lives a good, creative, healthy, loving life.  

I’ve also decided instead of waiting for others to like me, I’m going to like myself for a change. 

I am still a woman. Smart. Creative. Loving. Capable. 

Yes, I’m older. 

Yes, I am a working artist NOT a ‘retired’ woman with a ‘hobby’. Seriously?

Yes, I’ve changed. 

Now I’ve decided as time marches on, to march with it.