Yes, I’ll admit it, I’m an absolute pro at procrastination with my writing. I’ve been putting this off for YEARS, and I mean years. I’ll make the resolution to write at least once a week and I look at the blog on my (pathetic) website and see that I’ve written nothing, nada, nichts, rein, neinte, hakuna, rud ar bith, ekkert, xejn, nanaon, ha ho letho, nothing on my blog since May 9, 2017… but I digress in fun with words in other languages.

I had just run into my office and was about to run out the door again to go to see a client and I just stopped and said NO, I’m not going to put this off one more second. So sit yourself down and just put something onto paper.

Why do we put stuff off? Why do I work at a turtles pace – hence here is one of my favorite, silly videos of the guinea pig who plays “turtle turtle”. You gotta watch it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jW3XtKBlTz0

I really do enjoy writing, but I want everything to be perfect and whitty and think that if I don’t go over it ten times, well then I’m not doing it right. What is right? How about just a flow of consciousness? And who is to say I am wrong, I can say whatever I want. Well, maybe not “fire” in a crowded movie theater, but why am I so circumspect with myself? Particularly when it comes to art. I’ve been there, done that and got the t-shirt.

Good rule to live by to make yourself more productive is to do the hard thing first. Before you get distracted and start alphabetizing your sock drawer by color (which I do often), is just jump into it. Get that hard, scary, difficult thing done first, and then the rest of your day will seem like a piece of cake.

So here – I actually did it! I still need to work on the deadlines I create for myself. I rarely if ever miss a deadline for others, so I need to keep that high standard for myself too. And here’s some good advice by one of my favorite bloggers, Seth Godin.

“Six things about deadlines” By Seth Godin
1. People don’t like deadlines. They mean a decision, shipping and risk. They force us to decide.
2. Deadlines work. Products that are about to disappear, auctions that are about to end, tickets that are about to sell out–they create forward motion.
3. Deadlines make people do dumb things. Every time I offer a free digital document or an educational event that has a deadline, I can guarantee I will hear from several (or dozens of) people with ornate, well-considered and thoughtful arguments as to why they missed the deadline. Never mind that they had two weeks… the last fifteen minutes are all they are concerned with. If it’s important enough to spend an hour complaining about, it’s certainly important enough to spend four minutes to just do it in the first place.
4. Deadlines give you the opportunity to beat the rush. Handing in work just a little bit early is a sure-fire way to tell a positive story and get the attention you seek. The chart below tracks the day (out of 10) that I received each of the more than a thousand applications for the free nano MBA program. Want to guess which day’s applications got the most attention from me?
5. When we set ourselves a deadline, we’re incredibly lax about sticking to it. So don’t (set it for yourself, in your head, informally). Write it down instead. Hand it to someone else.

Unnatural Synthesis (detail) by Kelsie Ward, Insulation foam, spray foam, vinyl, and bamboo, 9′ 6″ x 20′ 6″ x 25′.

HERSTORY! I was recently asked to participate as a guest juror to choose an artist for an award for the online exhibition HerStory 2017 Art Exhibition, curated by Renee Phillips, Director of Manhattan Arts International. I was thrilled as I have followed Renee for years and have always been so impressed by all she does to help artists through exhibitions, programs and mentoring. We have many goals in common and are collaborating on various projects, so this was a lot of fun! This important exhibition, Herstory, will promote outstanding women artists, and runs from April 27, 2017 through June 27, 2017, featuring 63 selected artists. In reviewing all the work, it was a difficult task as there were so many talented and inspiring artists.

Link to the exhibition:
Herstory 2017

Link to the Special Art Awards page:
Special Awards

Prior to judging, I was asked what what I would be looking for in my choice for an award and I said, “I am initially drawn to art that is visually arresting, provocative and emotionally charged. I lean towards art that is focused on social issues, and of the human condition with the intention to challenge prescribed social norms. I look for works that evoke a response and inspire reflective thought and dialogue with the intention to “change the world through art”. The artist should demonstrate a unique voice and style and have perfected their craft.”

After much review, I chose the work of Kelsie Ward. Luckily as guest judges, we were provided with the artists names, websites and statements. So not only did I review all of the works submitted by the 63 artstis, but I also studied their collective body of work on their websites to make my final decision and wow, was it difficult. While Kelsie’s work is not particularly activist, I think it imparts many qualities found in eco-art, combining beauty and messages about the importance of caring for the earth and environment and humans implied impact on it. Her work is intellectual, impressive, very well crafted and just plain beautiful to look at. I would love to have an installation of her work in my home or backyard.

My statement about Kelsie’s work: In viewing Kelsie Ward’s work, I am immediately impressed by the simultaneous strength and fragility of the structures. “Unnatural Synthesis” is stimulating emotionally, intellectually and conceptually, combining expressed personal identity influenced by nature, the divine and science/mathematics. The installations, with the juxtaposition of massive forms with delicate vinyl triangular shapes, pull one in to study and reflect further on the implied meaning, encouraging self-reflection and greater awareness of spatial relationships. It brings to mind my recent trip to Iceland, surrounded by glaciers and towering rocks; the overwhelming feeling of isolation yet a sense of stillness in the majestic natural beauty. This tranquility is imparted in Ward’s work and portrays the human condition in the constructs of nature both artificial and real.

Kelsie Ward’s statement about her work: My works engage and reference natural forms and the increased artificiality of the nature we experience. The contradictory appearance and materials of these environments present familiar yet dislocated forms from the natural world. Navigation through these forms provides an individual journey, feelings of isolation, and time for self-reflection.

Bio: Kelsie Ward is from a small town in central Minnesota. She received her Bachelor of Art in Economics and Psychology with a minor in Art from the College of Saint Benedict and St. John’s University in 2012 and her Master of Fine Art from Southern Illinois University Edwardsville in 2016. Working in sculpture and installation, her work explores shifts between dimensional space, the relationship between the natural and the synthetic, awareness of self, and repetition.

Link for more of her work: Kelsie Ward Portfolio

I’m writing this (or rather dictating this to my phone – thank you Nuance), as I scratch Mollie’s head (my dog) as we drive up to Sonoma.

As I scratch hers, I’m metaphorically scratching my own. Mulling over what is art worth and how do you price it? Like the emotional response when you see a cute puppy in the window and you just must have it – it’s precious, it’s adorable, you know you love it already — but what is the real value? How do you put a price tag on emotion? Well, that is where the pet store owners come in – they know how to pull the emotional strings that are tied to your wallet.

And that’s where relying on experts (the gallery owners) in the art market comes. They have your “puppy” from the window and they are going to do everything they can to get people off the street to get that emotional connection to it to sell it.

So I’m still scratching my head because an artist I was working with for a show was just given a golden opportunity to have her work represented and sold and then utterly, completely blew it. I was so angry but now I’m down to just being pissed (and for any UK readers, no I’m not hitting the bottle). I’m working on an exhibition that opens next month in NYC and the gallery owner and director have been active participants in looking thoroughly through all the artists’ work and may end up representing some but at the very least – actively promoting and selling their work during the show.

This is such a unique opportunity because usually we just rent a co-op or nonprofit space for our shows and while we get a lot of “lookers” and appreciators, not many sales. And this gallery is working hard on the artists (and theirs too of course) behalf.

So – back to this artist. They loved her work but thought her pricing was way too high. It was–it was ridiculous. She priced it super high due to emotional trauma she personally experiencing while producing the work. People close to me know what my red and blue series are about – but should I price that work to make up for all the grief and to recoup the money from my IVF treatments? As much as that was a horrible, hard time – I don’t think so!

Gorgeous work and this was her first entry to the white cube. She admitted that she had no connections into the level of patrons that would pay the price she (arbitrarily) set. I finally got her to meet with the gallery and they offered her a solo show, but they needed her to work with them on pricing in order to get it out there. And we’re still talking almost 5 figures.

She wouldn’t budge a penny.

In one way I have to admire the hutzpah. Living in a delusional world. But she completely blew this opportunity for this show and a solo show and possible representation. WHY?!!!

What do you do with someone who would rather have their work sit in their mothers’ garage versus being represented by a quality gallery that wanted to sell your work?

I’m just absolutely amazed at the shortsightedness and flat-out stupidity.

You don’t price your work because of the emotional angst you experienced while creating it as if it’s some sort of payback. And you don’t price your work because of the amount of time it took or the materials involved.

You need to take the dog for a walk; walk around other galleries and see what like work is selling for, from similar artists at your level.

And you have to trust the “dog whisperer”, they’re the ones that know what to do, how to get that dog to do tricks i.e. getting your work into the hands of collectors.

I think Mollie is worth a zillion dollars but at the end of the day she’s just a mutt I adopted from the shelter. But if she does grab another dinner off the kitchen counter (yep, an entire chicken last week), maybe I will be looking for that pet store owner to fetch the biggest price!

I completely amazed myself in numerous ways this weekend.   First, I did my first cold water dive in Monterey and for some unknown reason (now) I was really scared.  Mostly because of the frigid and murky water, and the kelp that would tangle and then drown me, like the trees grabbing at Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz.  I’m just not sure where this fear came from since I’ve been diving for years.  So we geared up and walked to the water. I’m wearing a 13 mm neoprene wetsuit, hood and gloves, and with the tank and 27 pounds of weight in my BC pockets; believe me, this is not an easy thing.  We snorkeled out at first with Scott leading. I completely lost sight of him just four feet in front of me, the visibility was so poor.  Not being able to see anything really threw me for a loop so we went side by side and he held my hand under water until we got further out.  That simple touch made all the difference. Then we got much further out and descended; it was a magical wonderland.  The waving verdant sea grass, the bright orange star fish, hot pink lichen growing on all the rocks and the anemones that were the colors of the rainbow with white tips lit as if they were minuscule flashlights.  All these things were quite small and you had to get up close and hover (practice buoyancy control) and I was captivated by the beauty.

Then we came upon a kelp forest with the stalks going up 3-4 stories high.  I rolled over on my back and gazed at a configuration that looked like three slender sisters and I thought of Cathy, Kim and I.  And here is the second way I amazed myself — at that moment (and still) I wanted to capture that image in a painting.  Me, paint a landscape?!! B-O-R-I-N-G. I’ve only ever painted one and that was a failed commission (note to self – get money up front)…  But back to the point, I’ve always questioned where does the inspiration come to paint landscapes?  Because that’s so different from my experience in what motivates and fuels me, and thus what is manifested in my conceptual work.  I thrive on the energy of cities and and my reactions to what is happening in the world, usually based on social injustice.

A landscape – that subterranean landscape moved me so much, I felt the need to capture it.  Those three sisters had something to say to me.  Maybe it was about trust; the unknown has something to offer you.  Later, I said, as we were stripping off our gear, “the only thing to fear is fear itself” and laughed at myself.

Inspiration and what moves you comes from many different places and many different ways.  I know now I need to be open to that and to allow myself to see the points of view that I used to dismiss.  Now does this mean I want to move to the country and paint?  Hell no… I can’t get to the city, any city fast enough.  But it has opened my eyes in looking at the sources of inspiration and letting them come me in new ways.

So I got a few moments of fame in March – My piece “Learning to Say No in 520 Languages” was blogged about by BroadBlog and was picked up by MS. Magazine online under the section “What We’re Reading”http://msmagazine.com/blog/  They refresh the topics every 12 hours, but hey — My work was there on the home page.  You can read it now here:  http://broadblogs.com/2011/02/23/learning-to-say-no-in-520-languages/

So I’ve been musing on my inability to update my blog on a regular basis, I started thinking — why is it I treat myself and my work like “the redheaded stepchild” – pushing it to the back, unacknowledged and unwanted?  And hey, before anyone says I’m being politically incorrect – I WAS the red-headed stepchild.  I remember a time when a particular step-parent had guests over and as we all stood in the doorway, the dog got introduced before me, while I shifted uncomfortably and wanted to melt into the wallpaper.  Nice, eh?

Hummm, that really makes me think and reaffirms my convictions.  I DO have something to say, it is important, and I can express it very strongly in my work.  In fact I just got accepted into a juried show titled “by and for: Democracy and Art,” at Avenue 50 Gallery in LA.  So why is it I mince my words and so rarely say what I think?  I know being polite and appropriate controls a lot of how I outwardly express myself.  But art can change the world.  Strong visual images can say what words can not.  Make people think, make people feel.

I’m a blonde now due to the fabulous work of Jessica Russo in San Francisco.  So goodbye redheaded-stepchild, and watch out blondie, I’ve got something to say!