This is Where I Work

The flowering pear tree is also beautiful in the fall. It is the skinniest 20+ year old tree imaginable, and it leans.

In the spring and in the fall, when it isn’t hot, I am struck by the beauty and charm of where I get to work.

When my studio was new here at home, I participated in a studio tour. Many guests asked if my husband built the studio. My answer was, “No, he already has a job”. The studio was a planing shed for the clock builder who owned the property before us. We used it to store avocado green sinks and other unnecessary miscellany from remodeling our house in 1998. A dear friend, now gone the way of all flesh, did the interior remodel on the shed in 2001. About 15 years later, he and Trail Guy added shingle siding. A few years ago, I had the cement floor covered with fake wood laminate flooring.

This is where I draw and do administrative things, along with give private drawing lessons.

When I began painting, I didn’t want that mess in my studio, so I set up in the adjacent workshop, which now also serves as the three cats’ home base. Two were born there, and Tucker moved in at around 8 weeks of age, so they are very comfortable with it as their dormitory and cafeteria.

Since most of my paintings are hanging at CACHE, I had to dig out all my framed pencil drawings to put up on the walls. I also had to spend time measuring them, determining prices, making sure the prices match the prices listed on the website and are consistent with size and framing quality. Sometimes I would like to have an administrative assistant for such tasks.

The few paintings here were done recently in order to resupply the places that sell my work.

SIMPLY HOME

WILDFLOWERS ON DRY CREEK ROAD, 16×20, $650

A Day Without the Internet

Last week was a rough one for tech. My blog croaked, which led me to realize that my entire website was AWOL. This led to many phone calls, and a large expenditure. Then, when I had things working again, thanks to Rowland, Mario, Eva, and Ken Joe Sam (Really? No, really??), we had a day without internet, cell service, telephone, or teevee. (I didn’t miss that last thing.)

So, I painted, after spending a bit of time in the studio making plans and taking care of administrative tasks. Those necessary parts of an art business are too boring to tell you about.)

Mr. Antisocial Jackson was suddenly interested in everything I was working on.

This painting is either 11×14 or 12×16, but I don’t remember. I am painting it so that if someone needs to take a painting from Simply Home, I will be able to put something in the hole.

Tucker took a break with me.

This lighthouse painting, done mostly plein air, still needed to be finished in the painting workshop. (I draw in my studio and paint in the workshop, because painting can get messy.)

It will look better when it is scanned. This was photographed with my inferior phone camera. And as always, it will look better in person.

Pippin was happy to sit behind me while I painted.

REMINDER: Tuesday, November 12, 6:30-7:30, I will give a demo/talk called How To Draw at CACHE. Contact me if you are interested, because seating is limited.

SIMPLY HOME

Homer Barn, 12×16″, SOLD

CACHE Gallery hours are Fridays 1:30-4:00, Saturdays 10:00-4:00, Sundays noon-4:00.

Sometimes I am a Non-Profit Company

If you receive these posts in email and the pictures in the post don’t show for you, tap here janabotkin.net. It will take you to the blog on the internet.

Some days it is a real struggle to find time to paint because of all the non-art-making tasks associated with being a professional artist, a one-woman show, a solo act, a Jana of all trades, and small potatoes.


This is what filled my day a few weeks ago, most work related, and none of it actually for profit. 

  1. Someone sent me an email wondering if an artist’s proof from a reproduction run of Farewell Gap prints was worth anything. Yeppers, it is worth whatever anyone is willing to pay for it. This required a bit of rooting around to see how many prints I made, some guesswork about when I did it, and a lot of thought in a couple of emails. (And I had to blog about it, because it was both mildly interesting and informative.)
  2. I got a handwritten letter in the real mail about a place called the Green Hotel in a small town in Kern County. This is because neither my email nor my phone would give me my messages from the correspondent. The letter turned into a series of phone calls and emails, with me instructing the folks what would be necessary to reproduce notecards when the original has vanished. (This might warrant its own blog post.)
  3. The gallery/museum where I teach drawing lessons (CACHE) has applied for a grant. Because it will be a possible source of money for murals inside the museum, and because I am a Typo Psycho, I helped with editing and proofreading. Our highly esteemed president of CACHE put zillions of hours into this, with an understanding of how to write appealing content for grants, and I concluded that if CACHE doesn’t receive the grant, the judges are stupid, biased, or there is just a great deal of tomfoolery involved. (What, me biased??)
  4. My colored pencil artist friend Carrie Lewis puts out a weekly newsletter, a free publication with helpful information for colored pencil artists. Because no one can proof her own writing and because she is overloaded with many other tasks, I proofread this weekly for her.
  5. The upcoming big murals at the largest Catholic church in North America have been on hold. Finally, the project manager said I might be able to begin soon. This meant rewriting the contract, checking prices that have risen since we began the process in October, updating terms based on new information. 
  6. Finally, on a day that much of this was happening, we had an electrical problem. When the electricity went out, I had to go to the neighbor’s house to wait for the electrician to call me on the cell phone. We don’t have cell service at home; use of the cell requires using wifi, which requires electricity. So, with all this work to do, I took my knitting over to my friend’s house and sat in the sunshine.That was a busy day, lots of work, all of it not-for-profit. But sometimes an artist has got to do what she’s got to do.

 

Things Artists Have to Figure Out

I recently agreed to submit 5 pieces to an upcoming show in the Exeter Courthouse Gallery, now called CACHE. (Can’t remember what it stands for). The show is called “Locals Only”, and although I have never lived in Exeter, my studio was there for 9 years, so I qualify as a local.

This means I have to figure out what to submit. There are many things to take into consideration:

  1. Who will the audience be?
  2. Shall I submit oil, pencil, or both?
  3. Do I have any new oil paintings that I haven’t already shown at this gallery?
  4. Are they scanned or photographed, titled, and varnished?
  5. Do I have any new pencil pieces?
  6. How many are new? Oops, that means unframed.
  7. Do I have any frames and mats that will fit the new pencil pieces?
  8. Shall I unframe older pieces that haven’t sold and use those frames and mats for the new pieces?
  9. What shall I say about these pieces for the QR code that will allow a viewer to learn about them?
  10. Can I make the voice recording work?
  11. How will I sound like a knowledgeable confident artist rather than a silly newbie?
  12. How does one send a voice recording?
  13. How many of my current obsession (orange groves with foothills and the Sierra) is too many in the same show?
  14. What shall I title these pieces that all look similar? (Did Monet or Van Gogh or whoever it was just say “Haystack # Forty-eleven” or “Water Lilies # umpty-umpt”?)

These are drying in the sun; sure hope nothing natural befalls them. I’d better move them inside.

An artist could need a nap after all these difficult decisions.

 

What is an Art Administrator?

Linda’s Barn, a new notecard, package of 4 for $8, available on my website.

I’m not sure what an art administrator is, but that is what I seem to be about once a week, or sometimes once every two weeks. Look at this list of tasks:

  1. Package up a painting to send, find the receipt book, see if a deposit was made, update the receipt, make a self-addressed stamped envelope, write a note, unseal the package, add the paper work, reseal the package.
  2. Do it all over again for another customer, then remember that the package can’t be sent until the replacement calendars arrive.
  3. Email someone who has wanted to get together to look over an old drawing for several months but is too busy. . . how about this week?
  4. Send a thank you note to a customer who provided a generous discount when I bought new tires from him recently.
  5. Change an invoice to a statement for a customer who overpaid me and then chose a painting rather than keep a large credit on file; write a thank you note to go with it.
  6. Contact the great guy who will be letting the Kaweah Artisans use his empty building for our annual Perfect Gift Boutique, coming soon on the Friday and Saturday after Thanksgiving.
  7. Gather the photos and prep a canvas for a new oil painting commission.
  8. Sort out a bank deposit – sold things using the Square, so how much was oil paintings, other merchandise, tax and Square’s fee; how much came in cash and how much of that was oil paintings, other merchandise, tax and drawing lessons; go through the same breakdown for any checks; find a check still in an envelope in another stack of stuff; redo the deposit slip.
  9. Add 3 new notecard designs to website.
  10. Dig deep into a box of orphaned cards to find any of a drawing I did in 1992, and then write a note and send the cards (YIPPEE SKIPPEE, I FOUND SOME!) to the nice lady who asked about the drawing.
  11. Go to the Post Office to learn the best way to package all the calendars that have to be resent.

What’s going on here?? I just want to be an artist!

Sorry, Toots. This is called the Business of Art, and today you are an administrator.

Oh yeah? Does this mean I can paint tomorrow? Promise?

No promises. You might be returning phone calls, scheduling things, prepping for the Perfect Gift Boutique, or responding to new inquiries via email.

Life as an artist certainly isn’t boring. . . always something to do, necessary, but not necessarily glamorous.

P.S. There might still be time for oil painting or pencil drawing commissions before Christmas, if they aren’t too big or too complicated! Use the Contact button or email me at cabinart at cabinart dot net.

Better to Laugh Than to Cry

Recently, Trail Guy was in my studio and took the 2018 calendar off the wall so we could do some planning. The 2019 was hanging behind it and fell on the floor. He said, “Hey, you have a typo in your calendar!”
How can that be?? I used a template from the printer for the calendar part, and my part is all drawings except for the cover and the months on the back.

If you ordered a calendar from me, look at June: the printer’s template had the WRONG YEAR for June!! ARE YOU KIDDING ME??

But this is a 2019 calendar!

I contacted them and they will be replacing my order. When it arrives I’ll have to send new calendars to everyone who ordered by mail (65 are sold of the 100) plus try to remember who bought them in person so I can replace them.

If you bought one from me in person, please let me know so I can replace it. (I have records of all who ordered from the website.)

They sent me a proof before the reprinting. Another oops:

It wasn’t just the year that was wrong; it was the entire page! (Look in the corners. . . this is a 2019 calendar, folks!)

My head might be a little misshapen from banging it on the wall, but it is okay for you to laugh. I thought my walking partner was going to fall down laughing when I told her. Remember, my very wise dad said, “It’s better to laugh than to cry”.
I’ve worked in 2 different print shops in my varied “careers” (they were really just jobs, not careers), and I remember how when a job started to go bad, sometimes there was just no hope. This is a good printer that gives great service, and I want to help them get it right for me so that I can get it right for you.
Let’s find a bright side, shall we? I will be helping to keep the local Post Office in business.
I need to see something soothing right about now. . .

Business Decisions Are Hard Without A Crystal Ball

Maybe they are hard with one too.

I’ve been getting the message from several sources that my prices are too low.

My subject matter is Tulare County, and most of my customers are here. Because we are poor, fat, undereducated, breathing bad air, and accustomed to frugality, I price my art work accordingly.

Common art marketing wisdom says that if your prices are too low, people will not value your work.

Common sense says that if your prices are too low, you will stay poor.

Contradictory common sense says that if your prices are low, you’ll sell more and more people will buy your work and then you will raise your prices and have a following who are willing to pay your new prices.

Common sense is uncommonly confusing.

(“Too many cooks spoil the stew” or “Many hands make light work”? “Absence makes the heart grow fonder” or “Out of sight, out of mind”? See what I mean?)

This little 6×6″ painting of Sawtooth is $50 plus tax. It is an original oil painting that took me about 2 hours to make. (First I had to buy the canvas, brushes, turpentine, linseed oil and paints.) When it sells at the Silver City Store, they keep a percentage, of course. That means I am earning a sorry hourly wage, particularly when you take the giant self-employed bite out of it.

Does this matter?

Not to me. I paint Mineral King because I love Mineral King.

However, I do need to earn a living.

I just looked up other oil painters. For 6×6 oil paintings, they charge $26, $65, $80, $100,  $125, $150, $175, $190, and $325.

Holy Cow. Excuse me, I need to go do some more thinking. Might need to knit a few rows to calm down, have a hit of chocolate, pace, rock back and forth while banging my head on the back of the chair, perhaps even put my thumb in my mouth and curl into a little ball.

Art and the economy

First published January 2009

Have you noticed how often the phrase “with the state of the economy” is getting used these days? Tiresome to hear the repetition of whatever phrase the media and culture latches onto. . . sigh. Anyway, here are a few thoughts about art in “these current economic times” (another worn out phrase – sorry!)

In the current issue of Art Calendar magazine (note the correct usage of the word “issue” here), there are several articles about selling art in an economic slowdown. One speaks of art as the “non liquid asset par excellence”. It also discusses art as a “reflection of societal values”, and as a chance to “offer new insight and perspectives of reality”. Is that what I do???

If so, it just happens, because my thought pattern is rather predictable when it comes to making art. First thought: “How beautiful!” Second thought: “Can I capture that first on film and then on canvas or paper?” Third thought:  “I wonder if that will sell. . . ”  I have never considered my art to be a non liquid asset, only a way to bring joy and beauty and memories and peaceful happy thoughts to my customers’ lives! (what kind of a simpleton am I anyway???)

My “guru”, Jack White writes about all the people whom are not affected by the economic slowdown. These are nurses, ambulance drivers, teachers, fire fighters, law enforcers, just to name a few. He says that these folks are our customers. In my opinion, these have always been my customers. Who else lives around here? I know one or two people who do esoteric stock market type jobs, and they aren’t any bigger customers than my blue-collar buyers.

Perhaps the way to survive “the current state of the economy” (sheeesh! how else can this be phrased??) is to live in a continually semi-depressed rural economy so that “these current economic times” are hardly noticed as any different (other than the excess of those hackneyed phrases).

For example, I know a guy who has been waiting months and months for 4 different contractors to bid on building a new house for him. Last night in Costco, it was crowded and shelves were empty (Hey! can I get some mozzarella cheese over here??) My husband and I have had our new roof lying in our yard for 2-3 years waiting for our favorite carpenter to install it and even with the state of the economy (sorry) he is still too busy.

Here, let your spirits be lifted with this bright, cheerful, colorful and cheap inexpensive painting! 3-peppers.jpg Three Peppers IV, 6″x6″, oil on wrapped canvas, SOLD (I certainly hope so, since 2009!)