Studio Organization - the Order Board

As I increase my production for galleries, I'm working on new systems in the studio to keep me organized. This is mostly a trial and error process. I tried compiling all the orders for a certain time period into a single list, at first handwritten and then input to a Word document with photos to make it visual. That at least gave me a total count when I was making a particular item. I tried printing it out and checking off items as I completed them. It was functional, but I decided that I craved some more tangible measure of progress.

order board first day

One of the home design blogs the I read, Young House Love, had a recent post on a magnetic dry erase board for organizing their home projects and blog posts. I realized that a version of their board might work nicely for my purposes. I decided to forgo their fancy customized board and just pick up something that would work. This combination of black magnetic/chalk board with white dry erase magnet strips is the result.

order board second day

My jewelry products names are written in permanent black marker, and then I use neon dry erase markers to indicate the number needed and stone color, if applicable (leaf studs in pink garnet or green peridot, for example). For now, I'm moving items from the right side of the board (in process or yet to be started) to the left side as I complete them. The change above is from one day to the next in my progress on shipments for delivery before Mother's Day. I don't move the tags until the piece is bagged and ready to ship, so one day's progress on the board may just mean that a bunch of multi-day projects completed at once. Even so, it sure feels good to walk over and move the tags. It's a bit like getting that gold star on a paper back in grade school. Now I'm thinking a few more boards for other projects might be in order. Shipments, purchases,...

The Great Annual Studio Reorganization

As I've struggled recently to get any work done in my studio, I've blamed it on the occasional artistic ennui, a time to fill the well. The recent demise of my trusted PC has led to a new tenant in the room, an elegant, alien iMac occupying less space than its clunky, techy cousin. Bringing in that big and beautiful toy prompted reassessment of the desk, covered with mountains of "stuff."

Thus began the Great Annual Studio Reorganization (I checked -- it has been a bit over a year since the last iteration). I realize now that part of my aversion to working is not quiet time to recharge, but rather an inability to work around the clutter covering every surface. Pushing things back to clear a tiny workspace is not conducive to free creativity!

So far in the last few days, I've cleared off my desktop around the computer. I've reorganized two drawers full of office gear, and I've started purging the paper files so that I can find room to stuff something new into the drawer. I've also committed to a more paperless existence, scanning myriads of documents I hate to toss, but which I could undoubtedly never locate if needed. Now they reside on my hard drive, with searchable titles. Five boxes of books, mostly homeschool related, went to the buyers at a local used book reseller. While these mundane tasks don't seem directly related to making new art, I feel freer just being able to see the top of my desk again. I've at least been able to stay on task with this particular assignment.

Anyone else having the urge to reorganize your space at this crazy time of year?

Getting in a Rhythm in the Studio

One of the hardest things to control is studio time. Since I homeschool my highschool junior, I spend many hours each week working on academics. I teach an AP level chemistry class to a small group of homeschooled students, and I estimate that I spend at least twenty hours per week just on it. Beyond that, I help my son with his online calculus course and work alongside him learning Latin. This semester, my son is taking two classes at our community college. This means there is suddenly studio time available during the week that I haven't had for many years! Now Tuesday and Thursday mornings are reserved for ME! Tomorrow is the first day, and I want to make good use of the time. I find myself feeling that I should be doing chemistry, however, I'm telling myself loudly that studio time is sacrosanct. I'll just need to work around it.

Here's my approach to this new found studio time:

1. Set a routine. Getting into a rhythm is critical. I have 3.5 hours blocked out -- no scheduling other things into that time! Everything else should wait. 
2. Turn on the music. I find that while I can work without music, there's something about the right music playing that resonates with the creative brainwaves. The right music changes with the project. I tend to associate certain pieces with specific artworks from my past. Now whenever I hear them again, I'm transported back to working on those projects. I'm always searching for new music that seems art worthy. 
3. Have a clear idea of where to begin. I've deliberately left several projects in midstream, with a clear idea of where to jump in. First is my next Ring a Week (#3), shown here. I cleverly worked on this one at the same time as #2. So I have parts waiting for assembly and firing. All the hardest part is done. Somehow just getting going breaks the ice and gets the creative energy flowing. Then I can segue into other projects.
4. Keep a clean studio. Yes, it gets messy as I work. At some point it can cross over to being a detriment though, when I can't find whatever tool I need. If I just take a few minutes at the end of a session to put things away, the studio is much more enticing the next round.
5. Utilize deadlines. I'm good under pressure. Give me too much time and I'll web surf it away. But a hard deadline will get me focusing intently. Reminder to self: final Master Muse project is due next week. 
6. Keep a sketchbook of ideas. When the muse isn't speaking to me, I pull out the sketchbooks, either to draw or to peruse. I also use my Books of Attraction as jumping off points when all else fails.
7. Improvise. Don't get blocked by some minor issue. So what if I don't have some needed item? Think of something else. Some of the best ideas come from having to make do. But keep a list of needed things and get them when I can. Having a big toolbox opens up more possibilities.
8. Showing up is half the battle. Just do it. The repetition will start to become routine; the creative juices will start to flow. At the worst, go clean or make small components to use later. But get in there and do something.
9. Keep a studio log. This record of what I get done each day is invaluable. I hate to see a blank day, so I'll use even tiny time increments to do little things to list. Every bit helps. So far, I use a notebook, one page per day, with a simple list of art-related accomplishments. However, I'm considering updating to a more involved log with construction notes, progress photos, etc.

Studio Reorganization Update

The latest addition to the studio reorganization is a trail of bittersweet over the window. Originally, I planned to use some long-stashed hand-painted fabrics for a valence, but friends convinced me that branches were absolutely required to go with my bird theme. My original plan had been to get a nice branch for a corner, but this brings it out front and center. 

Isn't that sun glowing first thing in the morning just amazing? I love that fall light. 

The fall season is only slowly creeping into Texas, with cooler temperatures and golden light urging me to plant mums in my front porch pots and pose pumpkins beneath. When I stopped at the florist today to look for branches, thinking they might have something that would work over the window, I briefly perused the curly willow, but then I swallowed hard and committed to the expensive bittersweet. I remembered looking at it last fall and thinking it too pricey, but this year I know life's short and I should enjoy it while I may. So my window has a festoon of luscious seedpods to accompany the curling branches. Precariously perched on a few nails hammered above the window, it needs a bit of wire to make it more secure. I love it!

The color perfectly coordinates with much of the artwork gracing the walls, like this stuffed crow from Kelli Nina Perkins and a page from my bird journal. At this time of the year, the orange and black give it a holiday feel, even though none of the decorations are specifically Halloween oriented. The rest of the year, the other colors seem to balance better.

As always, orange is the zing that makes every other color pop, like the pea green of this antique bird cage I picked up on e-bay.

I love the new additions I've been collecting, like this hand-painted jewelry box to hold my special pieces that I'm keeping for myself.  Rescue a thrift store recycled box of your own from Secret Garden on Etsy.

And I'm pleased to dig some favorite quilts out of oblivion and actually hang them on the wall to wink at every time I walk by. This is Soul Searching, which was juried into Craft National, Materials: Hard & Soft, and Craft Forms. I consider it the best wall quilt I ever made.

Read about the earlier stages of the studio reorganization here , here, here, here , and here . Peek into the glass studio here. The quilting studio is still chaos.

The timing on my studio redo is good in that Cloth Paper Scissors is having a Virtual Studios Tour. I added my link to the collection. Need some ideas for your own studio? Grab a cup of tea and settle in for a bit of inspiration.

New Studio Plants

Five months ago, or BA (before the accident), I purchased two flats of tiny succulents. It was a case of being dazzled by a greenhouse full of gorgeous plants for sale. The flats were works of art in themselves, each consisting of 8 rows with 8 plants of various types, from bronze rozettes to pink edged ears to green spikes. Some went into the new garden beds, tucked among the rocks. Some went into pots for gifts. Many were left to languish outside with morning sun, untended through the hot summer, rootbound in their 2" pots.

With the return of mobility, my biggest job has been cleanup work. The downstairs infirmary, the neglected and ravaged studios, the garden all need attention. I can't turn around without seeing something begging for help. Those beautiful little plants tugged at my heart until I came to their rescue.

I decided to pot them up to bring into the eastern window of my studio. They were dry as a bone, but making last gasp efforts to reproduce. Considering the heat we've had this summer, they lived up to their water cagy reputation to make it through. With a little potting soil and a drip of water, now I have the lovely orange stars and grey green rosettes of these echeverias, commonly known as "hens and chicks,"  gracing my studio.

Now I just need a few more pots.

Keep Moving -- The Glass Studio Cleanup

Today the temperature in Austin has receded to the mid-80s, so I've attacked the glass studio, which is in my enclosed back porch, which we call the sun room  from the days when it was used differently. Although I did have to ship the oxygen concentrator off for repairs, a kind friend away for the weekend lent me hers so that I can play. First I decided to clean the dust, cobwebs and grime of five months off the bench and tools. Of course, I won't show you the other areas yet, as they are inundated, but at least this is clean enough for torching.

In the foreground are the Bexley narrow files, scavenged from my husband's office, which hold 104 COE glass rods, drawers as yet unlabeled. Then there's my Chilipepper kiln, didymium shield, Creation Station, and mini-CC torch. I have one of Al Janelle's great magnetic tool racks to organize my glass shaping tools, except for the marvers, which I keep on the left side of the torch, because I taught myself when I was beginning and didn't know I wasn't supposed to change hands. The bench is made from off-the-shelf kitchen cabinets from Lowe's with a long formica top to bridge them. The nearest bank of drawers holds mandrels, frit, enamel, foil, etc. The bank on the far side of the torch holds less frequently used tools, such as presses, and has a drawer to dump shorts into when I'm cleaning up.

Beyond the flameworking area is an enamel and soldering station, with a tray of pumice and tripod/wire rack. I have quick connects so that I can change from my glass torch to the Little Torch. There's a tiny brick kiln (4"x4" inside), also scavenged from discards at my DH's business lab, that I use for kiln enameling. The oxy con is at the far end of the bench, and the propane tank is at the near end where there are double doors out to the patio.

Today's choice from Bruce Mau's Incomplete Manifesto of Growth:

12. Keep moving.
The market and its operations have a tendency to reinforce success. Resist it. Allow failure and migration to be part of your practice.

New Storage for the Studio

I can't go into an art and craft supply store without getting into trouble. I ventured into Hobby Lobby for a pen; I came out with a new storage chest. Actually it was a bit more involved than that. I bribed my son to go back with me to manhandle this thing through the checkout and home (the bribe involved me bringing all his chemistry supplies that he should have taken himself to class, but forgot). He literally picked the thing up in the back of the store and carried it the whole way. I knew there was a reason my refrigerator and pantry are always bare!

The chest just seemed so perfect, with a load of drawers midsize between the tiny drawers in the tabletop organizers and the large baskets in the Elfa stacks. One dozen drawers -- twelve! The perfect size for storing silver sheet and wire, as well as tools. Plus a small cabinet. And on sale, of course, which is why I had to go back today and get it after dreaming about it for two nights.

It also seemed made for displaying the vintage birdcage I bought on e-bay. Now I'm dreaming of a bird to go inside. Fiber or polymer? I haven't decided yet, but I'm definitely in love with the new acquisitions.

Studio Reorganization Continues

Over the weekend, I got the new table together and more display shelves mounted on the wall. Rather, my wonderful Keenan did those things under my supervision. I'm slowly organizing the beads and wire that have lived piled on my sewing table for ages now into those new drawers. I might even be able to sew again, which would be nice, since I want to finally hang a curtain on the window in this room.

I decided I would follow my friend Lorena Angulo's lead, and put some of my favorite jewelry pieces out on display when I'm not wearing them. I'll do that, just as soon as I find them! See her amazing studio here and here.

You can see I'm bringing in more and more stuff, if you compare this newer photo of the clay area with the earlier version here.

What you can't really see is the clutter on my desk near my computer, which is buried under chemistry prep for tomorrow's class, or the folding table still laden with supplies in the near left foreground, along with four dining chairs awaiting some able-bodied (not me) person to spirit them back downstairs.

Stay tuned for closeups and details about some of the treasures finally on display.

Drifting

Today's choice from Bruce Mau's Incomplete Manifesto of Growth:


8. Drift.
Allow yourself to wander aimlessly. Explore adjacencies. Lack judgment. Postpone criticism.


Since returning from the PMC Guild Conference, I have a bit of ennui. I'm distracted. I want to redo the studio. I have to plan homeschool chemistry and calculus courses. I need to turn on the glass torch and begin the practicing that will get me back to making beads. I must go finish my physical therapy, and find a gym to replace it.  I get sidetracked into restarting old projects, such as the carved wooden mirror that I'm repainting, or the lampshades I keep intending to paint with my bird scenes. 

Ah, it must be that fallow time when new work is percolating deep down beneath the surface, unseen. What will come when it bursts through to the surface? More waiting to see.

Organizing the Work Table

I'm going out of order on listing items from Bruce Mau's Incomplete Manifesto of Growth. I decided I'd read down until I found one that fit my day and then use it. Since I'm still working on the studio, organization seemed to be the theme.

30. Organization = Liberty.

As I reorganize, I've been thinking about issues with my work space that I'd like to correct. One annoying thing that happens regularly to me is that I lose critical tools on my work table. The needle tool that was just there isn't. The correct playing card set is missing from the stack. I've been trying to place things back in a specific place so that I'll be able to find them again, but still I have trouble. Tonight I wandered through Pier 1 in search of dishes, baskets or boxes to help me delineate homes for all my regular tools.

I came home with a collection of kitchenware to repurpose for the studio.



Small white trays to corral the cards and most often used tools.
Tiny square plates to catch the drips from my olive oil and water bottles.
A collection of square bowls for sorting the small greenware components that have been filling the upper left corner of my glass worktop.
And flared glasses to hold tools, somehow more alluring than the metal pencil containers I used before.

Will it work? Only time will tell. Looks almost ready to go. I only wish it would stay nice and neat forever.

Incomplete Manifesto for Growth

The latest addition to my studio inspiration is this clever wire bird sculpture by Nakisha of Blue Dog Rose Studios. I've been wanting one for ages, and this week I treated myself to "hope" as a reward for perseverance.

And from the studio debris, another treasure surfaced: Bruce Mau's Incomplete Manifesto for Growth. This was an old print out,  from years ago when I still worked in fiber regularly. I think I'm going to post the list slowly, one by one, with my thoughts on how they manifest for me.

First off:

1. Allow events to change you.
You have to be willing to grow. Growth is different from something that happens to you. You produce it. You live it. The prerequisites for growth: the openness to experience events and the willingness to be changed by them.


Well, if this year doesn't change me, I don't know what will. I certainly view my mother's death and my own serious injury within a month of one another as life-changing events.  That's what happened. But how do I grow from it? 


I am changed, unquestionably. Some changes are good. Good things I've learned: I'm stronger than I expected. My pain threshold is higher than I thought. Sheer will, hard work, and good surgeons can do amazing things. Some changes are not so good: I now know I'm not invincible (like I really ever thought that!). Life can change forever in a second. Some things are not fixable. Some hurts are so big they never heal. 


How will this change my art? I think it's too soon to tell. Until my body is at least healed enough to feel almost normal, I don't think my mind is capable of integrating the changes. I'm told that six months is almost magical for my type of injury, that it's possible I'll wake up one morning and not immediately feel the "wrongness" in my leg. I'm also told I might need to take the hardware out, which would extend the recovery. The surgeon says that approaching normal may take a year, and that the bone is not completely healed for even longer. It's a long time to hang in limbo. It will be interesting to see what comes of it. 

16 Rules to Live By

While half my office/metal clay/beading studio is looking pretty good, I've managed that by moving all the debris I need to sort onto and under a side table, and leaving half of the rest behind downstairs. Where am I going to put all this?

One of the best things about cleaning and reorganizing the studio is the great stuff you find that was lost in the mess. Sometimes it's just what you need for where you are right now.

One such thing that surfaced in the pile today was Bob Parsons' 16 Rules to Live By. Bob Parsons is the CEO of GoDaddy, the leader in web domain name registrations. He wrote up his 16 rules for a breakfast meeting as advice for new business owners. Evidently the response to his 16 rules was overwhelming, and I see why. They're pretty basic to life in general. Good things to review occasionally.

You can read the details at the link above, but here are the highlights:

1. Get and stay out of your comfort zone.
   
2. Never give up.
   
3. When you're ready to quit, you're closer than you think.
   
4. With regard to whatever worries you, not only accept the worst thing that could happen, but make it a point to quantify what the worst thing could be.
   
5. Focus on what you want to have happen.
   
6. Take things a day at a time.
   
7. Always be moving forward.
   
8. Be quick to decide.
   
9. Measure everything of significance.
   
10. Anything that is not managed will deteriorate.
    
11. Pay attention to your competitors, but pay more attention to what you're doing.
    
12. Never let anybody push you around.
    
13. Never expect life to be fair.
    
14. Solve your own problems.
    
15. Don't take yourself too seriously.
    
16. There's always a reason to smile.
    

It's interesting how many of them seem so particularly relevant to where I am right now. Number 3 is particularly resonating. Just reading that gives me renewed energy to keep going. I'm almost there?

I find myself wanting to make my own set of rules to create art by, but first I'll just be happy to get the studio back to a point where I can work again and the dining room back to the point where I could actually dine there again.

The above rules for survival are included with the permission of Bob Parsons (http://www.bobparsons.com) and are Copyright © 2004-2006 by Bob Parsons. All rights reserved.

Studio Reorganization Progress

I'm officially moved upstairs, even though not finished. The computer and large work items moved today, so that determines where I view my presence to be. You'll notice I'm only showing part of the room, as it's a work in progress, and the other side of the room consists of piles of stuff waiting for a home. Hey, it's progress!

The narrow black shelves and display boxes for beads have been waiting for months for installation. I'm slowly adding more and more goodies to the display. Now I want a few more for the other side of the room. I expect lots of changes yet, but I'm getting clearer on what I want. I went shopping on Etsy tonight for a few things to add. It feels better already.

You know it's not functional yet though, because that front work surface is entirely too clean!!!

Studio Reorganization Begins

As the beginning of school nears (two days!), I'm immersed in preparing to teach calculus and AP chemistry. Meanwhile, I'm trying to move my studio off the dining room table and back upstairs. That would erase the last vestige of the downstairs infirmary and return my public rooms back to normal status. Of course, the fact that the upstairs studio is basically stripped bare in spots makes it just too tempting to do a thorough clean out and reorganization. It's better to start fresh than try to work any more in this crazy mess!

Even the floor under the dining table is littered with stuff, boxes of class supplies from Bead & Button that still haven't returned to a proper home.

I'm taking the approach of removing every item from a shelf or surface and really thinking about what I want or need there.

Magazines were occupying far too much space and spilling over everywhere, so I've been madly ripping out images, articles and tutorials. How many times does anybody really sit down and browse through old issues??? The images will fill my Books of Attractions, which I've found I actually use a lot.

It's very energizing to flip through a book filled with work that I love. Whenever I need a kick in the behind to get moving, I work on these. If you need to thin your paper, I previously blogged about my method here and here. The artist profiles and tutorials will be organized into binders, which I unfortunately don't really utilize often, meaning that I don't have this scheme refined well yet.  Three grocery bags full of magazine carcasses have gone out to the recycling so far, reduced to a stack of loose pages a few inches high. Some quiet evening, I'll sit and cut out the pertinent images and glue them in with annotations.

Rather than the haphazardly stored beads and artwork that I've been consciously collecting, I have serious notions of displaying the work on walls and tabletops. It's a shame to have beads tucked away in boxes and bags, when they would be so lovely catching the light. It was actually a shock to photograph the stack of goodies piled on a table and see all the birds. Hmmm, do I have a theme here?