I’m thinking today of images on the internet that show various career choices with photos plugged in of “what my parents think I do” “what my boss thinks I do” “what my friends think I do” “what I REALLY do.” Here’s what a lot of the last few weeks of being an artist really looked like:
001With taxes, arranging insurance details for the UAF Life Sciences commission, and lots of computer and phone work related to my final proposal for the Statewide-Library-Archives-Museum I spent far more time here at dining room table/mission control than in the studio.
It’s been an interesting month. I sent off my “SLAM” proposal last week, samples are headed to Juneau from a glass studio in Europe, and I feel good about what I handed in. I’ve gone from “I don’t know if I can do this” to “I really want to do this” thanks to a lot of help from other people. It took many rounds of asking questions to get through what was a complicated process – very different set of challenges than in previous proposals.
The competition is formidable, however. It’s been a useful experience even if nothing else comes of it, and it was a big surprise even to be considered.
I did manage to finish three pieces for an upcoming “Art About Agriculture” invitational in Oregon. There’s been a bit of triage in order to balance out the demands of the SLAM proposal and I’m relieved that the pieces are finally done and on the way.
Now to wrap up the ski season – a big day last weekend found 700 of us out skiing on the rivers and sloughs near Talkeetna for the Oosik Classic, and this weekend has the Sonot Kkaazoot race and the final event of the skijoring season in Fairbanks. I’ll never be a star on skis but I’ve had the opportunity to work with four different instructors this winter and learned a lot (including a lot about how much work I still have to do!)
And speaking of learning, I took a close look at the calendar and learned that if I have a show in June, and am teaching for much of May, I’d better get into that studio. So much for that “my desk is clear” feeling . . . .