be a bad worker

Lately, I've been getting fed up with the stress of being me. Being me means my mood is almost solely tied to how well my work is going. If my clients are happy, work is shipping on time, orders are fast and furious, kilns are firing the way they are supposed to fire, production is snappy, new work is in the pipeline, then happiness is mine. From that list, the convergence of all of them happening is about once a month for approximately 3 minutes. Basically, I have it all set up so satisfaction is almost impossible and I'm always wrestling with this demon who is telling me if I just work harder, try harder, maybe everything will finally come together in the way I think it should.

I've had to admit to myself that I am a workaholic. I resist that word because it seems like a word that would apply to somebody else doing different kind of work. But if I take some of the classic symptoms of alcoholism and apply them to work, it's hard to deny that I have a work problem. For example:

• I minimize how much time I actually spend working, the way an alcoholic minimizes how much he drinks.
  
• I don't count certain types of work as work, like listing stuff on etsy or cleaning my studio, the way an alcoholic may say that beer isn't really alcohol.
  
• I hide work, like snapping my computer shut and pretend like I was in the middle of doing something else when my husband walks into the room, and we all know alcoholics hide booze.
  
• And then the classic: does work make your home life unhappy? Yes, yes, and yes. My husband is an independent soul who doesn't allow me to dictate the mood at home, but there's no doubt I undermine his pleasure in life when I come home and whine about work, or worse, cry because the stress is getting to me.

It was suggested to me by my friend Jack, who is similarly driven-- actually, I am surrounded by these types, now that I think about it--is rather than work so hard at being good, apply myself to being bad. Be a slacker. Say "no" to clients. Be late to meetings. Blow off emails. Spend all day making something ridiculous instead of filling orders. And do it all without a single apology. I was laughing so hysterically when he was making these suggestions to me, tears were rolling out of my eyes. He was making a larger point about Americans working too hard in general, and how the culture of being "busy" and driven all the time is killing us and making life difficult to enjoy. "We all need to learn how to be bad workers." is how he summed up his theory.

It's an indication of how deeply ingrained the American hard work ethic is in me when these suggestions make me almost hysterical with laughter and seem about as realistic as walking on water or setting myself on fire. However, the more I thought about it, the more it seemed that these measures could actually be therapeutic, and maybe being a bad worker would be like taking some vitamins. Maybe I don't have to do all of them at once, but I could try a few of them and see if the studio collapses or my head explodes. So if you are wondering where your order is or why I haven't responded to your email, you'll know I'm taking my medicine!

this weekend, and next

Here in the Bay Area, we are spoiled. We have the best weather (at least in the East Bay), the best food, the best views, and frankly, some of the best ceramic artists. When you are spoiled, you forget how good you have it. You start thinking that the rare, beautiful things you have ready access to will always be there, and in fact, you often fail to notice how awesome these things are. That is the nature of life, taking for granted the things that come easy.

I still count myself one of the luckiest gals in the world that my favorite ceramic artists are also my best friends and live within 15 minutes of my own studio. And at this time of year, we get together, have show celebrating the moms of the world, and sell off our seconds at prices you will never see anywhere else. It's true that sometimes we smash our seconds, and sometimes we sell them. My home is decorated with "seconds" from my gals, and there is nothing lovelier, in the Bay Area, in stores, or in life.

The opening party for our Vase Show is May 6 (that's tomorrow!) at 6 pm over at the Fourth and Clay Studio + Gallery. There will be food, there will be booze, and there will be me, drinking the wine as fast as I can. You will be able to check out our vases and shop seconds. The show will continue on Saturday and Sunday from 11-5. For those of you who can't make it this weekend, I will be having a follow-up sale at my own studio next Saturday, the 14th, from 11-4. Be there!

buy a vase, support japan

Whenever a big earthquake happens in the world, I feel a special connection to the event because of my own experience of a devastating earthquake. I came through the Loma Prieta earthquake totally unscathed--I'm nothing if not lucky-- but it was still an event that changed my life. It made me realize how fragile life is, and how my own life is so small. It was a very good lesson for a 19-year old, and I am always grateful for the experience.

The recent earthquake and tsunami in Japan was even more relevant to me because of my Japan connection. Some of you may remember that back in the summer of 2007 I went to Kanayama, Japan for a month to do a residency. It was, and remains, one of the highlights of my career. I was not overly concerned for the people who hosted me because they were far enough away from the epicenter, but I knew immediately that I must do something to help. My former hosts are doing something: they have pledged to make 15,000 cups to donate to the survivors of the earthquake and tsunami. Many people are homeless and have lost everything, and this is how they are helping people re-stock their cupboards. Cups are everything in Japan, daily tea drinking is part of the everyday culture, so this is not a small gesture.

By the way, 15,000 cups may seem like an impossible number, but the staff at Kanayama has been making 700 cups a day, and at last check they had completed 6,000 cups 12 days ago. This is between 5 people. They are probably done by now. I learned so much about production while I was working there.

I am sending my own donation of cups to Kanayama this week as a token gesture of support. I will also be sending straight cash from sales from a collection cherry blossom vases I made just for this effort. Cherry blossoms are a special symbol in Japanese culture. They also represent the relationship between the United States and Japan. The famous cherry blossom trees in Washington, DC were a gift from Japan in the early 20th century to symbolize the friendship between Japan and the United States. This is particularly poignant to me when I think about World War II, but I will save these thoughts for another day.

In case you have not figured it out yet, I want you to go buy one of my vases right now. 50% of the retail price will go to the Japan cause. They will only be available online until May 6, so don't sit around saying to yourself, "So pretty...!" because then they will be gone and you will lose your chance to get a gorgeous vase AND donate to people who need your money. And when I say "people" I mean myself, too. I need your money. So I can send it to Japan! The vases are moderately priced so they are affordable, not to mention beautiful, one-of-a-kind, and perfect for spring flowers.

the cost

I just had to deal with a very clueless customer. He ordered a set of dinner plates from me that he clearly thought were too expensive because he wanted a discount (I didn't give him one,) then started hounding me within a week about when they would be done, and groused bitterly about how long he had to wait. This customer, by the way, will never be allowed to order anything from me again, I keep a blacklist right next to my bed and his name is on it. I made an attempt to explain the process of making a set of anything ceramic, why it costs what it does, and why it takes longer than 5 days, but I don't think I got through to him. In fact, this person seemed to think I was taking his money and putting him on the back burner just to make him wait even longer. Which, after that conversation, I did.

It must be said that this customer type is very rare for me, most of my people are incredibly patient and tolerant of delays. Recently, I was trying to send out a bird creamer/sugar set to a customer. It's almost always small stuff that ties me up in knots. First, the creamer comes out and the yellow glaze on the bird ran over onto the robin egg blue of the creamer itself. The yellow glaze is very runny, and you have to glaze it in a very particular way to mitigate the running issue. Sold that one as a second, contacted the customer that the order would be late, and went for round two.

This time, the bird comes out perfect, but there is a big pinhole on the side of the piece. At this point, it's been 14 days since the order was placed. I fill in the pinhole with a mix of clay and glaze-- a trick I learned from Joanna Mendicino-- and pop it into my baby kiln which can do a firing cycle in 12 hours from pressing the button to pulling out the pieces. The creamer comes out great-- no more pinhole-- but I put the handle up against the side of the kiln like a total rookie, so now I have some kiln brick attached to the handle. I stomp around in a circle of fury for 10 seconds, then grind the kiln brick off, touch it up with some more glaze, back into the baby kiln. Next day, a perfect piece. Final count for this one $44 creamer: 16 days, 2 separate pieces, 5 firings, including the bisque firing.

And for those of you wondering, this customer was totally cool about it and thanked me for my quality control. You are welcome! And the plates? Out of the seven I made, the four I actually needed came out perfect, shipped off to the persnickety customer, for which I received a half-hearted "thank you." You're welcome... I think.

they tell me it's spring

I've been living in California for 23 years, and drought conditions are pretty much the default setting for life here. Which, frankly, is one of the reasons I live in California. I like sun-- I have the skin damage to prove it-- I like picnics in January, I like having a bicycle as a primary mode of transportation and not worrying about getting wet or cold. However, it's been raining pretty much constantly for over a month, which sent me into a mildly depressive state that plays itself out in bitchiness and insomnia. How my husband keeps himself from hitting me over the head with a shovel and then quietly burying me in the backyard is a question for the ages.

Then, I finally hired someone to replace Ruth at the studio, which gave me a spark of hope that maybe I could start getting things done in a timely way again. This someone lasted exactly two weeks before quitting. The strange thing was, I felt this incredible sense of relief. As much as I hate running around my studio like a crazy person pumping out production stuff, I relish being alone all day. It is my preferred mode of being in general. Rather than getting all caught up in hiring the next person on my list-- over 15 people were interviewed for this job-- I called up a few people and asked if they would like to come in on an ad-hoc basis and just lend a hand when I start getting overwhelmed, or better yet, right before I start getting overwhelmed. This seems to be totally working out for the moment because these people are super excited to come in, work with me, and earn some extra money, so shit gets done. The two weeks I spent training the other person was incredibly draining-- it's clear to me now I didn't hire the right person to begin with-- and I just can't face starting that all over again right now.

So, I'm feeling perkier now. The hardest thing about depression is how useless everything feels. I've never been so depressed that I can't get out of bed, what's the point when you are just going to get back in at the end of the day kind of depression. My depression manifests itself in discontent with my work, the feeling that making pottery is the most useless thing in the world to pursue. You're just making and making, and for what? Where does it lead, where does it take you? Okay, so it's beautiful-- so what? It's not like you are saving lives. Though, sometimes, even saving lives feels especially useless. And then, I have an (almost) perfect firing, the sun comes out, and I think I'm ready to fight for another day of making pottery.

etsy lazy

I've written in the past about my struggles to keep track of my money like a responsible business owner. Like many artists and freelancers, I've been guilty of "intuitive banking"-- as long as the bank balance seems about right, everything is fine. I've mastered keeping track of my expenditures and incoming money, but my piece of shit accounting program (First Edge-- do NOT buy) is so sprawling and non-user friendly that being able to analyze this information in a useful way has been eluding me. I finally jettisoned it for Outright, an online accounting program that is basic and simple, perfect for a business like mine. It pulls information from my PayPal account, which is where most of my sales flow through, as well as my business credit card and bank account. When I sign in, it gives me a visual graph to show me exactly how much money I'm making, and how much I'm spending. Which has been very. Very. Disturbing.

All last week I was obsessed with Outright, continually signing in and going over my numbers again and again, trying to figure out what is up. How is it possible I made almost twice as much money in 2009 than I did the next year? And now 2011 is starting to look remarkably identical to 2010. I've sensed with my "intuitive banking" nose that I'm not making as much money, since my savings account has not been growing, which I attributed to the trip to Belgium and a king sized bed purchase. But no, that's not it.

The problem is something I'm calling "Etsy Lazy". Back in 2008-2009 I was still working the wholesale game, pushing my own website, doing some shows, open studios, anything to sell work. And then Etsy came along, giving me a whole new revenue stream. For me, the best thing about Etsy is how reliable it is. So reliable I started treating it like a monogamous relationship, only going out with Etsy and forgetting about other selling venues. I've stopped doing the wholesale shows, I didn't even bother with a holiday Open Studio last year, and my own website is the last thing on my list. I basically live on Etsy, and I've gotten lazy. Ver-y lazy.

I got depressed, thinking my business was dead in the water and I was going to have to become a slave to wholesale again. That lasted about a day. Then, I realized I can come up with a new plan for myself, one that makes me happy and works for me. That will require some thinking, and I'm not sure what to do yet, but I want to see those little green columns growing and the red ones shrinking.

creating your own PR department

Not too long ago, I had a public relations meeting. It was with myself, and we drank a cup of coffee and determined that since we can't afford a PR department, it was time to get serious about doing it ourselves. Publicity is one of those things where the more you have, the more you get. The first time I received some good publicity was back in 2004, and since then I've had a steady stream of press attention. But it's always pretty random and I have to wait for it. I never know where it's coming from or when I'll get more. In this, I'm kind of like a horny high schooler with no boyfriend. The goal is to be more like a popular cheerleader type with the football team following me around.

I've seriously considered hiring a publicist for my business. I even went as far as talking to a local public relations firm that specializes in working with small, art-based businesses like mine. They named a fee so high I actually considered paying it, I thought the sum alone would have to make it worth it. The problem is, no matter how much you pay a publicist, there is no guarantee that you will get the publicity you want. We've all heard "there's no such thing as bad publicity." That's bullshit, but what the artist has to think about is worthless publicity, publicity that does not generate interest or sales, especially when you paid for it!

I'm no marketing genius, but I'm sharing the list of things that my PR department needs to work on, maybe this stuff you need to work on too:

• Making an effective press packet: I've never had a press packet, but I've been thinking I need one since about 2002. It's a handy tool to convince editors and writers you have your shit together and ready when press comes knocking. Whether you have an actual physical press packet or a digital one, a press packet should contain:

1. Images of your current work. Rather than have a bunch of images of everything, it should be only your best images of your best work, and be representative of your overall body of work.
2. A clearly labeled list of the images, along with material, dimensions, price.
3. Artist statement. Every artist needs one of these.
4. Recent press clips, if any, including press releases.
5. Your artist resume. I thought I didn't need a resume because I just work for myself, but a resume explains your history of accomplishments and career trajectory.
6. A postcard and business card with ALL of your contact information.

• Milking the press contacts: Have you ever had a bit of press before? That's your first press contact, and it never hurts to send that person an email with images of new work. I have never once sent an email to the people who have written about me, asking them for more coverage. That's ridiculous. It's even more ridiculous when I consider that I almost spent 9 months studio rent to have someone do it for me. Bringing another high school analogy back, it's like waiting around for the hot guy to ask me to prom when I can just invite him to the Sadie Hawkins dance.
• Brand identity: The internet is choked with people who promise to help you with brand identity. The funny thing is their websites look awful, their exhortations are uninspired, and they all want money. I like this site and this site for free help, though there are paid options too. My own thoughts about brand identity are that you need to spend some time and/or money on business cards, post cards, and website so they look professional and like they are all part of the same family. Going deeper, your brand identity is also your story about who you are and why you make art. Why do you need a brand identity? Because when people buy your art, they are also buying a piece of you. Let them know who you are so that piece is more valuable.
• Better newsletters: It took me about over a year to get into the swing of writing my blog and figuring out my "message". I still have not figured out how to make a really great newsletter, though I am making progress with my new email service which has made it super easy to make it look pretty.

Having your own personal PR department, headed and run by only yourself is the reality of most artists. Take yourself seriously enough to do some work on PR, and let me know what you've done lately or what else should be added to this list!