Last month, I shared a short list of non-negotiables I do every day—activities in my routine that are important to my well-being. This time around, I thought I would highlight a list of studio struggles that are consistently problematic. In other words: things I’m bad at.
1.
I’m delusional about how much work I can get done in a single day.
I constantly underestimate how long things will take and it only creates disappointment. When it comes to life outside of running a small business, I’m an organized, punctual person who has appropriate deadlines and realistic, timely goals. Yet, when regarding work, I always think I can accomplish sooo much more in a day than possible. Maybe I conflate what I want to do instead of what can be done, but this is an issue that persistently shows up. When I misjudge time, it throws off my whole week and I end up in a state of catching up. This way of working from behind only leads to frustrations.
Just last week, on Tuesday, I had planned a big work day that included; a photoshoot of about 40 new items, the editing of all those images, uploading new product pages to my webshop and creating new online descriptions, AND I also wanted to make a newsletter to send out to my subscribers. I was hoping to complete all that in about 8-9 hours. After a couple hours into the morning, I realized it was laughably impossible. Logically, I know a photoshoot will be at least half a day’s work. Creating a newsletter from scratch is also a 3-4 hour task. So, how did I possibly think all that was getting done in a simple 8 hour day? It actually turned out to be 2 1/2 days of my time. Most of my schedule had to get pushed back creating small chaos for no reason. Writing this newsletter was one of those things.
2.
Writing an “artist statement” brings me a lot anxiety.
This year I’ve applied to three artist residencies and have submitted my work for a few other opportunities such as publications and open calls. I encourage myself to submit a few applications each year because I know the exercise of putting together a project proposal is good practice. But, year after year, I continue to receive rejection emails. The last time I was awarded a residency was in 2016 and was a finalist for another in 2017. My work and what I do has changed over the past decade, yet I’m still working off of an old artist statement that is constantly tweaked.
I’m at the point where I need to figure out what I’m doing wrong. Are my images not good enough? What am I missing with words? Am I being too abstract? What story do I need to tell? What is my authentic perspective?
I've started to realize that I may be sending too many differing signals. I've always struggled with writing my artist statement from my point of view. I think a lot of the failed applications come from a disconnect between the images I submit and the words that go along with it. Occasionally, I’ll look back at old proposals and reread my statements to compare and learn from. Sometimes, it feels as if I’m trying to sound like a curator and I really need to move away from that. Because I did not go to art school and do not have an MFA, I subconsciously overcompensate and might be trying too hard. Having a degree or not should never be a factor, but I think there’s a little bit of insecurity that lingers if I’m being honest.
Earlier this month, I took an in-person creative writing workshop with Lana Porcello at the new Case for Making Art Room and it was so energizing. It had nothing to do with writing artist statements, but everything to do with letters, words, sounds, expression, freedom with sentences and listening to your voice. In the coming weeks, I hope to spend some time simply writing for myself. If words about art find themselves in there it will be welcome, but I won’t force it.
I’ve declared I am not applying to anything for at least a year or until I’m more confident.
3.
Wanting to redo my website is an obsessive thought I have every week.
Not knowing wether I should separate my online pottery presence from my other artistic endeavors has been a long-standing internal battle. I know other artists have similar issues of exposure with the duality of making functional wares and sculptural objects. Part of me wants everything in one place for simplicity, but sharing different work to different audiences in new places could also be beneficial.
My current website mainly functions as a place to buy and display my pottery as I grapple to showcase other mediums I work with. Last fall, when I made a calendar to sell, it felt weird to have the product listed next to cups and bowls. Over many years I’ve made some drawings that I really love, yet it’s never really been seen by others. So much is tucked away in a flat file, yet I can’t decide if that’s a good or bad thing. I could easily find ways as to why it’s an advantage to not share everything and to keep some work close to home, but that way of thinking often gets me no where.
Last April, I wrote about uploading collages to my website and how I didn’t sell any. It didn’t feel great but it also was just an experiment that proved my point. Perhaps www.cloutierceramics.com shouldn’t sell collages, or drawings or calendars? Eventually, I did sell a few. Maybe one day I’ll have a new website, or two new websites, but for now, the visions live in my head.
4.
I am not good at being my own client.
Anyone else want to constantly redo their logo? This is not a problem per se, but I lose a lot of energy over this. I can’t seem to shake this feeling that I never hit the mark with it. My current logo was designed in 2013. I love typography and graphic design and dabbled with it many years ago. I’ve made successful logos for other people, yet when it comes to mine, I’m not 100% satisfied. It gets the job done, but I can’t help but feel like I need to rework it.
5.
I’ve been unable to consistently stretch. Somehow it feels easier to go on a hour long walk than to stretch for 20 minutes. I find it incredibly boring.
6.
In creating this list of “weaknesses”, I asked my husband “what am I not good at?” just in case I was missing something obvious. He immediately said that I “don’t try new things”. Yep, “good one” I replied. Ha! That definitely tracks. It’s like pulling teeth for me. I often catch myself not wanting to do something out of fear of not being good enough. I’ve made a huge effort to unlearn those perfectionist tendencies and have slowly improved in this department of stagnation.
One recent example; I need to replace all the coils in my electric kiln. My kiln has been under firing for some time now and I keep putting it off. I’ve recently had some mysterious issues come up with a clay I’ve been using for over a decade, and I haven’t been able to figure out why. It’s quite possible it could be from my bisque kiln. Had I replaced the coils last year, perhaps none of my weird studio mishaps would be happening. There’s no way to know exactly, but because I don’t know how to replace the coils, I’ve been ignoring it.
Deep down I know it’s something I actually can do, but there’s this weird element of being irrationally scared. Accountability is helpful—now that it’s out in the open, the repair might get done.
This month’s newsletter was meant to be paired with a few life habits I do really well; 3 Things I do Every Month & 3 Things I do Every Day. I firmly believe that our strengths are our weaknesses and vice versa. So while I may over-exaggerate what I can accomplish in a day and want to write a better artist statement, I know these thoughts will push me forward in new directions.
This little place on the internet is all about studio progressions, regrets and dreams, financial honesty, and behind-the-scenes of my daily struggles and triumphs as a working artist. It’s not always sunshine and rainbows, even if spring is here. Concluding each month’s newsletter is never clear to me, this one is no exception. There are endless streams of newsletters out there, so I approach your inbox wisely and appreciate your time and space. As always, thank you for reading, subscribing, sharing, commenting, liking and simply for being here. It means a lot to me.
OTHER PLACES YOU CAN FIND ME
// I’m teaching a Collage Workshop in San Francisco on April 30th! //
// Cloutier Ceramics for all the clay goodies //
// Read my interview with Anna Brones on Creative Fuel //
// Sign up for my Ceramics Newsletter to know about the next restock //
Grounded in play, Clayfulness is a newsletter exploring what it means to be a small business with transparency. This is a place where you’ll find failures and victories from my studio practice, how I stay motivated and when I’m not. This is more than a monthly word exercise for myself, but a space to understand what this little business is and where it wants to go. I love reflecting and thinking about the future, but writing in the present moment can capture what I'm really thinking and I'm getting better at it the more I share.
I call it Clayfulness because clay is the background of my life, but there's also more. My life is full of other endeavors and being playful is one of my core principles in everything I do. Subscribe for free, upgrade to a paid subscription or give a one-time contribution if you’ve found value from my words or work over the years.
Trying new things is also a weakness of mine. But- at the same time, I wonder, is it really such a weakness? I am actually glad not to be the type of person that flits around from interest to interest. I need my creative work to stabilize everything in my life, and when you can really dig in to that one thing, it does- I think, anyway :)
I always love reading your newsletter. Your voice comes through so authentically. This is encouraging me to write a list of things I’m good and things I’m not.