Whenever I'm getting ready to travel, I have to contend with the fact that there is a part of me that hates to travel. Even before the most exciting trips, like the one I'm about to go on, I think that it wouldn't be so bad if the whole thing got cancelled, thereby relieving me of the burden of exiting my familiar and cozy bubble.
The first major trip I ever took was when I was 22 and I went to Costa Rica for two months. I lived on $50 a week for almost a year to save for that trip, but in the days before departure, I was filled with dread. I didn't want to admit it to anybody, but I did not want to go anymore. I was very disappointed with myself, because I had always imagined that when I grew up, I would work only to save enough money to travel. I consider myself an explorer, and I thought my whole life would be about traveling and exploring. I had very romantic notions about what it meant to be a world traveler. I would be full of stories from my encounters with exotic people and lands, my home filled with beautiful trinkets and unusual souvenirs, and I myself would also be slightly exotic after having sailed the seven seas, rubbed shoulders with the natives, and seen things that most could not imagine.
Despite my foreboding, I pushed on to Costa Rica anyway, secretly convinced I would die in a ridiculous mishap while I was there and never return. And as soon as I arrived, I was fine. When I arrive anywhere, I am fine. Now I understand it's not the actual travel I dread. It's the anticipation, preparation, and transition. Knowing that I am about to be surrounded with absolutely nothing familiar, except for what I bring along, kicks the little girl inside me back to life, the one who who had to travel back and forth between divorced parents and was constantly coping with missing one parent or the other. It's the insecurity of being alone in the world, one that is assuaged by the familiar things and people I surround myself with. Travel strips that bare.
I recently read "Wild" by Cheryl Strayed, her account of hiking the Pacific Crest Trail alone at 23 years old, and I was highly amused at her description of her backpack, which she nicknamed "Monster" due its outsize girth and weight. It mirrored exactly the pack I took into Costa Rica with me, which was so outlandishly overweight and wide, grown men who were trying to help me with my luggage would drop my pack and stare at me incredulously. I never had to worry about someone stealing my pack because you simply could not run with it. My backpack reflected my intense need for familiar comforts, like my 16-oz bottle of hair conditioner (my hair is very thick and requires special maintenance,) a stash of paint and all kinds of paper for every drawing and writing need (which I am grateful for to this day,) 6 different dresses for 6 different kind of occasions, and a Walkman, Canon camera with two lenses, and tape recorder so I would not forget one fucking thing.
My needs are smaller in some ways now. I know how much conditioner will actually be required in a 6 week period (approximately 4 oz,) that I will end up sketching and writing more than painting and do not need a full palette of paint, that I only need one dress for walking and looking, another for sitting and looking pretty (attitude makes up for the other four,) and everything that needs to be recorded can be done with one little device. And while I hate every moment between right now while I'm typing this--tying up my business and loose ends, saying good-bye to my husband, trying to figure out how close I can cut my arrival to the airport that will take me away--I am waiting for that sweet spot when I finally arrive. And everything is fine.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Monday, April 30, 2012
je voudrais un verre de vin.
There's a lot going on with me right now. Actually, there's only one thing going on, which is I'm getting ready to leave for France on May 17 for a 5 week residency. Plus, 5 days in Paris. There are many tangential activities associated with my trip that makes it count as four or five things. Today, I'm going to make a list of all the things I need to do before I leave. Lists soothe me. If I were a cat and you wanted to soothe me, you should pet me. If you want to soothe my human being self, hand me a clean sheet of paper and a nice pen, so I can make a list.
One of the things I am trying to accomplish before I leave is getting back all the French I learned in high school, which has since been displaced by Spanish. I've been doing the Pimsleur program and now, there's just a big bowl of all kinds of words in different languages sloshing around my brainpan, though I do know how to fluently order wine and beer.
As a teenager, I was fascinated with France. I took French through most of high school and tried to convince my mother that we probably were of French extraction, somewhere in our background, though we are clearly anglo-saxon in every way. I felt a natural affinity for the French culture, even though I understood only the most superficial things about it, like the French really love cheese, dress better than Americans, are snooty and disdainful, make weird movies with no endings, and take long lunches.
Now that I'm finally going there I've been doing an immersion in French cultural studies and beginning to slightly understand what makes the French tick. For reasons due to my own extreme ignorance, I always assumed the French were like us, just more a more sophisticated, better-dressed, disdainful cheese-eating version. But their culture is not Anglo-Saxon, it has a completely different underpinning, and once I understood that, it was like someone handed me a tiny key. Oooooohhh, they are actually not like us, and the way go about in my own culture does not translate the same way in theirs.
For example, my assumption that maximum efficiency is valuable in and of itself, and is naturally the goal of any transaction or undertaking. That's a cultural value, not something that is just a natural goal of every human being, though it feels like it should be. The French are not naturally interested in efficiency as a goal, they are interested in other things, which I will report back about once I have done some observation. And it will have to be observation, because I've learned that the French are much more private and reticent with strangers than Americans. Even asking someone's name can be an affront, so it's not likely that I will be able to interrogate anybody about how they move about in their culture, which is my anglo-saxon way of getting information.
Meanwhile, I've been working away in the studio, repairing my relationship with Cake Stand. Yes, we are back together, and it's better than ever. Cake Stand has really changed, and I just want to be with Cake Stand all the time. I think the only thing I've made for about a month now is cake stands, it's the only thing I'm interested in at the moment. So if you want to order something before I leave, make sure it's a cake stand so I can get rid of these things!
One of the things I am trying to accomplish before I leave is getting back all the French I learned in high school, which has since been displaced by Spanish. I've been doing the Pimsleur program and now, there's just a big bowl of all kinds of words in different languages sloshing around my brainpan, though I do know how to fluently order wine and beer.
As a teenager, I was fascinated with France. I took French through most of high school and tried to convince my mother that we probably were of French extraction, somewhere in our background, though we are clearly anglo-saxon in every way. I felt a natural affinity for the French culture, even though I understood only the most superficial things about it, like the French really love cheese, dress better than Americans, are snooty and disdainful, make weird movies with no endings, and take long lunches.
Now that I'm finally going there I've been doing an immersion in French cultural studies and beginning to slightly understand what makes the French tick. For reasons due to my own extreme ignorance, I always assumed the French were like us, just more a more sophisticated, better-dressed, disdainful cheese-eating version. But their culture is not Anglo-Saxon, it has a completely different underpinning, and once I understood that, it was like someone handed me a tiny key. Oooooohhh, they are actually not like us, and the way go about in my own culture does not translate the same way in theirs.
For example, my assumption that maximum efficiency is valuable in and of itself, and is naturally the goal of any transaction or undertaking. That's a cultural value, not something that is just a natural goal of every human being, though it feels like it should be. The French are not naturally interested in efficiency as a goal, they are interested in other things, which I will report back about once I have done some observation. And it will have to be observation, because I've learned that the French are much more private and reticent with strangers than Americans. Even asking someone's name can be an affront, so it's not likely that I will be able to interrogate anybody about how they move about in their culture, which is my anglo-saxon way of getting information.
Meanwhile, I've been working away in the studio, repairing my relationship with Cake Stand. Yes, we are back together, and it's better than ever. Cake Stand has really changed, and I just want to be with Cake Stand all the time. I think the only thing I've made for about a month now is cake stands, it's the only thing I'm interested in at the moment. So if you want to order something before I leave, make sure it's a cake stand so I can get rid of these things!
Friday, April 06, 2012
who's the boss?
I received this seemingly innocuous email this week:
Hello Whitney,
Please provide a tracking number for PO 666.
Currently the ETA on this PO is 4/10, which means it would had to have shipped on Tuesday to arrive in time. We need to know the status of this order immediately.
Thank You,
Annoying Fulfillment Manager of Very Large Store
Why did this email put my teeth on edge? Potter types already know. The not-so-subtle pressure to get an order out according to a retailer's own fulfillment schedule. And I say "their" fulfillment schedule because I never promise hard ship dates, and in this case the 4/10 arrival date is a figment of some body's imagination. I always keep fulfillment dates loose to give myself the space I need to create these wholesale orders. When planning orders with wholesale clients, I always say, "about 3-5 weeks" or whatever the time frame is, the key word there being "about." Also, please note the "-" which means there is a 14 day leeway.
This makes me difficult to work with, yes, and I like it that way. It filters out the riff-raff. Also, I have a secret weapon, and this is what it is: I don't give a shit about getting wholesale customers, or keeping them. It's a defense mechanism that keeps me from losing my mind with wholesale clients. Wholesale is a pain, and I only work with people who I really like and who I think respect what I do and how I do it. The most important clients to me are my own retail customers, the people who come to me directly and pay my full retail price. They are the ones who give me 85% of my income, and who have helped me build my business into what it is today. They are also the ones I will turn myself inside out for to get an order to them on time.
The most stressful periods of my work life have been because of difficult orders with difficult wholesale clients, and I developed PTSD-like symptoms because of my experiences with them. So reading this email, as mild as it may seem to some of you, sets off a stress reaction that is out of proportion to the situation. I woke up at 4 this morning, burning with resentment, remembering that this retailer has already been put on probation after they were being ridiculous about an order a few years ago. I told them at that time I would not be filling their current order or any orders in the future, and they actually pleaded with me to re-consider and promised to straighten up, which they have until now.
These stores want to sell the best stuff they can get their hands on, and find people like me to work with so they can deliver a unique and special item to their customer, yet they can't wrap their heads around the fact that I'm not cranking out a widget in a factory. And this person is clearly under the illusion that they are my boss or something, and I'm going to respond to pressure, or rush their order, or somehow work faster. I'm the boss. I respond negatively and even passive-aggressively to pressure, and I do not work any faster than I am already.
Dear Annoying Fulfillment Manager,
The status on your order is the same as when I first responded to the order: it will take 3-4 weeks to make and ship immediately thereafter. At this time I expect your order to ship sometime next week. I do not commit to hard ship dates, as you should be well aware of after working with me for 3 years. Please keep that in mind when making status inquiries in the future.
Thank you,
Whitney
Hello Whitney,
Please provide a tracking number for PO 666.
Currently the ETA on this PO is 4/10, which means it would had to have shipped on Tuesday to arrive in time. We need to know the status of this order immediately.
Thank You,
Annoying Fulfillment Manager of Very Large Store
Why did this email put my teeth on edge? Potter types already know. The not-so-subtle pressure to get an order out according to a retailer's own fulfillment schedule. And I say "their" fulfillment schedule because I never promise hard ship dates, and in this case the 4/10 arrival date is a figment of some body's imagination. I always keep fulfillment dates loose to give myself the space I need to create these wholesale orders. When planning orders with wholesale clients, I always say, "about 3-5 weeks" or whatever the time frame is, the key word there being "about." Also, please note the "-" which means there is a 14 day leeway.
This makes me difficult to work with, yes, and I like it that way. It filters out the riff-raff. Also, I have a secret weapon, and this is what it is: I don't give a shit about getting wholesale customers, or keeping them. It's a defense mechanism that keeps me from losing my mind with wholesale clients. Wholesale is a pain, and I only work with people who I really like and who I think respect what I do and how I do it. The most important clients to me are my own retail customers, the people who come to me directly and pay my full retail price. They are the ones who give me 85% of my income, and who have helped me build my business into what it is today. They are also the ones I will turn myself inside out for to get an order to them on time.
The most stressful periods of my work life have been because of difficult orders with difficult wholesale clients, and I developed PTSD-like symptoms because of my experiences with them. So reading this email, as mild as it may seem to some of you, sets off a stress reaction that is out of proportion to the situation. I woke up at 4 this morning, burning with resentment, remembering that this retailer has already been put on probation after they were being ridiculous about an order a few years ago. I told them at that time I would not be filling their current order or any orders in the future, and they actually pleaded with me to re-consider and promised to straighten up, which they have until now.
These stores want to sell the best stuff they can get their hands on, and find people like me to work with so they can deliver a unique and special item to their customer, yet they can't wrap their heads around the fact that I'm not cranking out a widget in a factory. And this person is clearly under the illusion that they are my boss or something, and I'm going to respond to pressure, or rush their order, or somehow work faster. I'm the boss. I respond negatively and even passive-aggressively to pressure, and I do not work any faster than I am already.
Dear Annoying Fulfillment Manager,
The status on your order is the same as when I first responded to the order: it will take 3-4 weeks to make and ship immediately thereafter. At this time I expect your order to ship sometime next week. I do not commit to hard ship dates, as you should be well aware of after working with me for 3 years. Please keep that in mind when making status inquiries in the future.
Thank you,
Whitney
Sunday, March 25, 2012
cake stand and I are breaking up
I have a boyfriend, and his name is Cake Stand. We've been together a long time. I realized something recently when I walked into my studio and found all of the cake stands I made earlier in the week with large cracks across the surface of the plate: Cake Stand and I have an unhealthy, co-dependent relationship. Cake Stand is a bad drunk, and I'm the girlfriend who runs around trying to mitigate its problems by thinking of what I'm doing wrong to make Cake Stand go bad, trying over and over again to come up with solutions that will get Cake Stand to come out perfect, excessively babying each piece to the point where my days--and nights-- are dominated by making Cake Stand and I have no time for thinking about other pottery pieces.I've had problems with Cake Stand in the past, but I was determined to have Cake Stand in my collection so I worked really hard to figure out what made it tick, and for a while, things were good. I took cake stand orders, and I filled cake stand orders. And I got complacent. I thought we had worked out our relationship and I could relax. Then late last year, the plates started popping off the stands. This is not a new problem, and I knew how to handle it. Cake Stand started drinking again, so you throw out all the booze, go to some meetings, and deal with it. But there was an immediate relapse, and Cake Stand started warping in ways I had never seen before. Something was obviously very wrong, but what? I made another round of stands, and no matter how careful I was, how I babied Cake Stand along, how many years of knowledge I apply to the making of these dastardly things, Cake Stand has continued to find ways to fuck up.
I opened the kiln the other day and both Nikki and I were so happy, a perfect white cake stand with little green birds! So beautiful! We lifted it out and it took us both a few beats to realize the entire stand was cracked in half, across the plate and all the way down the base. There's my boyfriend, trying to act sober and telling me he's going to go have coffee with his sponsor, and then getting arrested in a bar fight an hour later.
When I looked at the row of cracked stands, I went into my codependent pattern: I thought about my week ahead, and I pictured myself bent over the wheel, going through a box or two of clay, throwing another round of stands, delicately trying to manipulate them into perfection. The thought made me feel bored, constrained, grumpy. I wasn't even angry, just passively accepting that my upcoming week would once again be spent nursing the boyfriend, calling his boss to say he can't come to work because he has the flu, and putting aside all of my own plans. Then I had another thought. I thought, "I can break up with Cake Stand" I thought, "I have three orders right now, I can just refund them, and walk away." I thought, "Wow, who knows what I could make if I didn't have to spend so much time taking care of Cake Stand."Maybe I need some therapy, because after I took down every listing for cake stands on Etsy and my website, I immediately started thinking about a new Cake Stand. This New Cake Stand will be different, it won't be able to do the things Old Cake Stand did because it will have a new design, a new look, and new production method. It will be different this time, I just know it!
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
writing a newsletter that doesn't suck
While I've been ignoring my own blog, I have been doing lots of other writing, including this guest post for Flashissue about writing a newsletter that doesn't suck. Since I was writing the post for another blog, and not my own, I had to come up with a title that didn't include "suck" and just kind of clean up the language in general. Go check it out and leave any comments you have about writing newsletters over there. If I get inspired, I may write some more about newsletters. I've been working on improving mine, and after doing it for about 5 years now, I think I'm getting better at it. I don't know why I have such a weird block with newsletters. I can be really personal on my blog, but I have this idea that people expect me to be more "professional" with a newsletter. I had that same idea when I first started this blog too, but then no one read it because it was so boring. When I gave up on presenting a professional facade, things went more easily and I actually wrote about things that mattered to me, and stopped worrying that potential customers would run for the hills because I'm a snarky bitch sometimes.
Anyway, I am writing a long diatribe about cake stands right now that I'm trying to cut down to three paragraphs, so stay tuned later this week. And by the way, since my newsletters have vastly improved lately, why don't you go sign up for the next one right here? Happy first day of spring!
Anyway, I am writing a long diatribe about cake stands right now that I'm trying to cut down to three paragraphs, so stay tuned later this week. And by the way, since my newsletters have vastly improved lately, why don't you go sign up for the next one right here? Happy first day of spring!
Monday, February 27, 2012
hole in my head, bubbles in my brain
I had a tooth pulled last week to make way for an implant. I was told the Chinese regard losing a tooth as an event that signals change in your life. Since I'm not Chinese, I regard it as an expensive pain in the ass. Even so it does seem as though change is afoot. I've been pushing for certain changes for years, and it seems as though there are areas of my life opening up and making way for some of these changes to finally happen. But no matter what, change makes me uncomfortable. I can get very insecure and have moments of anxiety where I feel like I've lost my footing.
I've had to confront the fact that I've lost my drive to be in the studio all the time, and I'm thinking about other things to do with my life. This means I've cut down my studio work to 4 hours a day, where I am mostly focused on custom and creative work, and Nikki takes care of production work and a lot of other stuff that I don't want to deal with anymore. Basically, anything that doesn't have to get done by me, the smallest things, now get done by her. The rest of the day I'm working on my writing. And doing other things. The great thing about working on writing is that anything you do can be something that can contribute to you being a better writer, so I can justify just about anything I feel like doing
So it's great, but still, it's change. And a lot of shit has been bugging me. Like, sales are just slow right now. I go through periods of hyperactive sales and then, no sales for days. Days! It freaks me out and makes me angry. Actually, it makes me sad. I'm trying to pay more attention to how I actually feel. I often insert "angry" for every slightly negative feeling because at least then I can feel powerful. I mean, people get scared when I'm angry. Not so much when I'm sad. Then I'm just pathetic and people pat me on the back to make me feel better. And it does make me feel better, to get patted on the back and told, "It's going to be okay." That's what everyone says.
.jpg)
I've been coping with the fear in my meditation practice rather than screaming at my husband and stupid drivers on the road, which everyone appreciates. The thing about sitting in meditation and just breathing is that while you try to empty your mind, shit is constantly bubbling up. The comic Bobby Lee actually said in an interview that when he meditates, he views all his thoughts as bubbles and he just pops them and gets back to meditating. Until he has to pop another bubble, which he inevitably will throughout his meditation.
So I keep having this fear about my slow-ass sales bubble up, and I acknowledge the fear and accept it, and then I pop it. 10 seconds later the same thought comes up and I have to go through the whole fucking thing again. And again. And again. Really, it's annoying. I'm like, "Yeah, I know I have fear, I have insecurity, and I can let it go and be in the moment instead of freaking out. Do you think you could back off now??!!" There's the anger again. Two more steps back from enlightenment.
Before all of you supportive and wonderful people who read my blog rush forward to give me the virtual pat on the back-- which should be it's own word in the dictionary-- I should mention in some ways work is really great. I have a big project in the pipleline with a major retailer, and I'm sending off a big fat order to my first store in Paris. And I'm going to Paris in a couple of months and then heading down to the south of France for a ceramic residency for four weeks. So even though I may act pathetic every once in a while, don't feel sorry pour moi. And my suggestion for a word describing a virtual pat on the back is e-pathy. Got a better one?
I've had to confront the fact that I've lost my drive to be in the studio all the time, and I'm thinking about other things to do with my life. This means I've cut down my studio work to 4 hours a day, where I am mostly focused on custom and creative work, and Nikki takes care of production work and a lot of other stuff that I don't want to deal with anymore. Basically, anything that doesn't have to get done by me, the smallest things, now get done by her. The rest of the day I'm working on my writing. And doing other things. The great thing about working on writing is that anything you do can be something that can contribute to you being a better writer, so I can justify just about anything I feel like doing So it's great, but still, it's change. And a lot of shit has been bugging me. Like, sales are just slow right now. I go through periods of hyperactive sales and then, no sales for days. Days! It freaks me out and makes me angry. Actually, it makes me sad. I'm trying to pay more attention to how I actually feel. I often insert "angry" for every slightly negative feeling because at least then I can feel powerful. I mean, people get scared when I'm angry. Not so much when I'm sad. Then I'm just pathetic and people pat me on the back to make me feel better. And it does make me feel better, to get patted on the back and told, "It's going to be okay." That's what everyone says.
.jpg)
So I keep having this fear about my slow-ass sales bubble up, and I acknowledge the fear and accept it, and then I pop it. 10 seconds later the same thought comes up and I have to go through the whole fucking thing again. And again. And again. Really, it's annoying. I'm like, "Yeah, I know I have fear, I have insecurity, and I can let it go and be in the moment instead of freaking out. Do you think you could back off now??!!" There's the anger again. Two more steps back from enlightenment.
Before all of you supportive and wonderful people who read my blog rush forward to give me the virtual pat on the back-- which should be it's own word in the dictionary-- I should mention in some ways work is really great. I have a big project in the pipleline with a major retailer, and I'm sending off a big fat order to my first store in Paris. And I'm going to Paris in a couple of months and then heading down to the south of France for a ceramic residency for four weeks. So even though I may act pathetic every once in a while, don't feel sorry pour moi. And my suggestion for a word describing a virtual pat on the back is e-pathy. Got a better one?
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
my name is whitney and I'm a {recovering} workaholic
I'm a recovering workaholic. I used to work a minimum of 10 hours a day plus weekends. 10 hours a day probably doesn't sound like much to the workaholics who work 18 hour days, but I am a very lazy person, so for me a 10 hour work day is crazy. I cut back on my schedule when it became obvious that everyone and everything that was not clay was just annoying. This meant that when I wasn't working, I was annoyed. Not unlike a junkie who cannot get a fix. Hard to enjoy life with an approach like that.
Since I became a recovering workaholic, I'm always re-jiggering my schedule. It's a constant effort to balance meeting the obligations I have to my work while not becoming a slave to it. There are a lot of other things I want to get done every day besides working with clay:
Days melt away, then weeks, months, and years. It creates the unstoppable flow of time, and it's so easy to float and bob on the surface of it, either getting carried away by the juggernaut of daily accomplishments, or just giving up and not being driven to do much at all. I have both kinds of days.
And then the other kind, the good kind of day where I maintain my focus and awareness, and get about half the stuff done that my most driven self want to accomplish while doing twice as much as my most lazy self wants to do. One thing that has been helping me a lot lately is a simple day planner. I know a lot of you have been on to that one for years and good for you. I bought this one last year and I like how it has a limited amount of lines for each day, and a place to cross stuff off. I've started carefully planning each day, usually starting the day before, and I'm telling you, shit gets done. And I know that when I start cramming more than 4 or 5 things on there, I'm asking too much and shit ain't gonna get done. So it's an exercise in restraint and organization, which for a recovering workaholic, is almost as good as a 10 hour day.
Since I became a recovering workaholic, I'm always re-jiggering my schedule. It's a constant effort to balance meeting the obligations I have to my work while not becoming a slave to it. There are a lot of other things I want to get done every day besides working with clay:
- a time slot of writing in the morning
- an hour or so of exercise
- a brief nap (my lazy self demands extra sleep)
- time to write in the afternoon
- time to meditate
Days melt away, then weeks, months, and years. It creates the unstoppable flow of time, and it's so easy to float and bob on the surface of it, either getting carried away by the juggernaut of daily accomplishments, or just giving up and not being driven to do much at all. I have both kinds of days.And then the other kind, the good kind of day where I maintain my focus and awareness, and get about half the stuff done that my most driven self want to accomplish while doing twice as much as my most lazy self wants to do. One thing that has been helping me a lot lately is a simple day planner. I know a lot of you have been on to that one for years and good for you. I bought this one last year and I like how it has a limited amount of lines for each day, and a place to cross stuff off. I've started carefully planning each day, usually starting the day before, and I'm telling you, shit gets done. And I know that when I start cramming more than 4 or 5 things on there, I'm asking too much and shit ain't gonna get done. So it's an exercise in restraint and organization, which for a recovering workaholic, is almost as good as a 10 hour day.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)