Dork. Just add fire.

I have become a dork…not the “ha ha…I’m a dork but really I’m a cool kid just calling myself a dork because it’s the hipster thing to do” kind but the “I am going to talk about the physics of glass work until you are all glassy eyed (no pun intended) and bored to tears” kind of dork.

As I was 5 minutes in to explaining to a friend why it was that his 8 pound maul head probably cracked in half…It dawned on me today that I am indeed, THAT kind of dork.

Working with glass and metal is fascinating - to me. They are both seemingly harsh and unforgiving mistresses…until a little heat is involved. It is the fire that transforms them into flowing, mailable, wonderful mediums for creating. Heat literally changes their structures - on a molecular level- allowing them to be molded and stretched and swirled and bent. As long as some love and care is given to return them to a stable molecular state - they can be whatever you want them to be, for a very long time.

There is something magical about metal and glass…there is more to it than what you can create with it - there is the WHY. Why does the metal need to be annealed? What IS annealing? Why do you need to cool the glass so slowly? WHAT is actually going on to the molecules that makes it hard/soft/mailable/workable/unworkable/brittle. 

As a girl who really was never all that interested in science class - I now find myself enthralled with the WHY and HOW of certain things and, more over, amazed that I can wield control over these things by just applying heat and patience.

Guess I’m a dork. Just add fire.

Letting Go. Sucks.

Generally speaking, I learn pretty quickly…however, there are some life lessons that really have to knock me over the head several times before I, begrudgingly, grasp them. Though, once the beatings have subsided, I do try my damnedest to remember them and live my life with them in mind. 

The fact that I cannot control other people - especially their emotions and/or the morphing of their feelings towards me or our friendship - has been a hard, and sad, lesson that I think, finally in my 30s, I have begun to understand and accept. It has been this knowledge of my own lack of control that has allowed me to give up this absurd feeling of responsibility for the actions of others around me. In this acceptance I have also been able to release myself from the knee jerk reaction to judge others for decisions they make.

This doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt when I become attached emotionally to friends that drift into my life…only to drift out without my blessing. It’s hurts and feels terrible to have a relationship change that I am very attached and happy with…I feel like the little kid stomping her feet, red faced and yelling “No! You can’t leave…I want you HERE!”

But. In the end, no matter how much I agonize over the decisions that others have made…I have no control over them. No matter how much I judge, no matter how much I cry or beg or plead…I cannot change the emotions or decisions that they have made.

The only thing I CAN do is to accept what has been decided, make my own honest feelings be known and live in the knowledge that time eventually will heal my hurt. New friends will drift in to my life - or I into theirs and life goes on. There is a freedom I feel in letting go of a situation, or friend, when I finally have accepted that I have done all I can do in the face of a decision or a change in feeling that I had no control over.

I have also learned that this acceptance also requires me to give up any judgments I might make, any feelings of contempt I might have, any form of grudge I might hold - because, in the end…it doesn’t matter. It won’t change anything, and, if fact, the only person it ends up hurting is me.

Ego vs. Pride? Beats me.

Someone recently asked me what the difference was, to me, between pride and ego. I profess to be a very proud person that lacks an extended ego…but after looking up the actual definitions of pride and ego - it appears they are actually not as different as I would have thought and, moreover, almost the opposite of what I profess.

Pride: a high or inordinate opinion of one’s own dignity, importance, merit, or superiority, whether as cherished in the mind or as displayed in bearing, conduct, etc.
Ego: (1.) the “I” or self of any person; a person as thinking, feeling, and willing, and distinguishing itself from the selves of others and from objects of its thought. (2.) the part of the psychic apparatus that experiences and reacts to the outside world and thus mediates between the primitive drives of the id and the demands of the social and physical environment.

So, what is it that I claim then?

I think what I mean is that, in the end, life is pretty hollow - unless, for me, I have something larger than me that I am striving for. In this case, it would be some higher creative being or purpose. Huh? Yeah, I don’t know. All I know is that the only thing that really gives me pure and utter joy is the act of learning and creating something from nothing. Now, that doesn’t mean I claim to be original or unique - I know that, in the end, nothing is original. We all take inspiration from other sources, mill it around in our brains, and spew out something that, hopefully, has some representation of the original AND a bit of our own personality mixed in.

So, maybe this IS ego rather than pride. I am certainly proud of what I can imagine and produce - but it is for my own personal satisfaction. I AM working to be different from what my surrounding hold - from other people - so is this really ego at play?

Don’t get me wrong, I love compliments like the rest of us and strive to also make a living from my creativitiy…but THAT alone is not why I create. I create because it makes life not so hollow.

Friends come and go, family is not something you can choose or change…maybe that’s why creating is so important to me. In a world of things and people and emotions and situations I have NO control over - I DO have control of what I create. It is mine and mine alone.

Creating is life for me. It is the way I have found a way to differentiate myself from others (ego) in a way that I can find personal pride in - and in that differentiating and personal ego - it is also apparent that it is very lonely. But that is the rub - if it wasn’t - then it wouldn’t really be ego, would it?

Does this post make sense…probably not. But it has helped to write it down.

Intensity: The cilantro of life.

Cilantro is either beloved or hated. It’s true, I’ve met very few people who don’t either love it or loath it*. I think intensity in a person…is kinda like the cilantro of personality traits. It either creates a solid instantaneous friendship - or drives a wedge.

*(It’s actually a holdover from our less evolved days…and has to do with the brain keeping us from eating poisonous plants.)

I have never thought of myself as an intense person - or Dwight, for that matter. I don’t hold eye contact with others for an uncomfortable amount of time or invade personal space. I try not to talk over folks. I don’t think I make others uncomfortable - in fact, I make it a point to do the exact opposite during a conversation - to a self deprecating fault.

Those things above, to me, always signified intensity - never once had I considered the way I live my life or pursue my passions to exude “intensity”…however, it may. Even that, in itself, is not an issue really (frankly, I like the way I conduct my life). The issue for me is that I *might* make others wary of me, distrustful or uncomfortable with my friendship by being intense.

I don’t really waffle on things - neither of us do. The decision to DO is done in our heads - the rest is just logistical. I also care very little about failure as I know it’s all really just part of the process of learning. That’s not to say that I don’t fear mediocrity (I do, very much so) - but never failure. Failure isn’t even really failure, it’s just a step in the learning process.

I think a direct result of this intensity might be, I suck at surface-y conversations. Maybe that is what makes me/us unbearable to some - the lack of interest the weather or TV or mill rates or, sometimes even, current affairs. I just have SO much going on in my head that has been swirling around and around, gestating, so by the time I’m ready to talk about it…it’s a full blown IDEA or even something ready for action. Takes people off guard; maybe it makes them feel like I’m unstable in my decision making. I can only imagine the impressions many of my close friends (and family) have had when I say something totally out of the blue…and then the next week/month just do it.

I have no succinct end to this post. It’s just been a lot of thinking as of late…about what people think of me and if I care enough to make a change.

Can’t say that I will - for me cilantro is the most wonderful, fragrant, enchanting and addictive herb there is. It’s in my genetic makeup.

The Motorcyle Wave and Humanity.

There I am, driving to Belfast. A screaming kid in the back, exhausted, sleep deprived and in and all around foul mood. Two motorcyclists are on my ass - which is annoying because I can’t really see them if I stopped short…so, I’m annoyed. 

Then, like a beam of sunshine in an otherwise cloudy day…I see it. One of the ONLY things that will bring a smile to my face when in a funk - the wave. The obligatory and seemingly class overriding wave between oncoming motorcyclists.*

For me, this wave is like a faint glimpse of the humanity that I believe still exists in us all. It’s a seemingly random act that is happening between big burly Harley bikes (they give the best wave…the lean down low like you are adjusting your boot peace sign wave) and vintage bikes (like my husband’s). The make/model of the bike doesn’t matter nor does the rider - burly, skinny, dorky, no helmet, helmet and full bike gear…doesn’t matter. Somehow, the wave overcomes it all. It says “we might be different, but if you broke down, I’d help you” or “we’d probably hate one another but since you have the balls to ride a bike like me…you’re cool.”

All in all, it just makes me smile to know that there is something that might override all the shit that we face in society. All the assholes that won’t give you the time of day because they feel that they may or may not be better than you - all the people who wouldn’t hold the door for you if you had a handful of groceries, let you cut in front in line if you had a screaming baby in your arms, or help you change a flat tire on the side of the road.

It forces me to remember that I also need to do good things - for no reward or thanks. For no expectation that karma will come back around. Just because we are all people stuck here together and we should be good to one another.

Just because.

(*I’ve been told that some goldwing driving motorcyclists DON’T do the wave…but also that, as a woman on a bike, I could pull one out of them - which I intend to do on my bike.)

Inspiration or affliction?

I think the process of creativity and the notion of inspiration is, by nature, a very lonely affair. It’s wonderful, exhilarating and amazing…but my inspiration and creativity is something that can only be really understood or experienced by my brain.

When it hits me, whether or not it’s been building and gaining traction over time or like a bolt of lightning out of the blue…it’s the most wonderful feeling. It’s all consuming. I want to tell everyone so they can see what I see or experience what I’ve just experienced or to share the vision of the final product already constructed in my brain. It never works like that.

Reality is not that simple. I try to explain - and it all gets jumbled up on the way out. All the ideas try to flow out of my brain at once…and generally, they make no sense to anyone but me. It’s like having your throat paralyzed while all these thoughts and emotions swirling around…but you aren’t able to talk. There are only wild eyes and hand gestures. And then a lonely feeling knowing that you are the only one who understands it.

Wonderful, even in it’s loneliness - and something that I wouldn’t trade ever. But, lonely none the less.

The Artistic Split Personality

Few profound things have happened in my life. Usually its all very anticlimactic - lessons learned from trial and error, pain or happiness coming and going over long periods of time…not much gives me the a-ha moment that we all crave. However, yesterday, an unexpected personally profound moment came up and kicked me right in the shin.

I struggle with self worth on a minute by minute basis (as my therapist and friends are well aware) and as a designer and artisan/designer/whatever this can be an issue. If I mean to continue doing things I love, I have to also continue to put a price on that work and earn a living at it. This is a struggle…not the money, the setting a worth on what it is that makes me who I am.

While doing some web work for an artist that I truly love - this conversation came up. He is sucessfull and well known and is someone I respect very much - so, though, what I’ll explain below may not seem like much - it blew ME away.

Commissions can be wonderful - if the vision is shared. They can also eat you alive if it’s not really your vision or style or even taste. I struggle with this as someone needing to make a living. After explaining to Alan (the artist) my fear and guilt and self worth behind doing commissioned work he said…

“Look at it like this Maggi. You, right now, have many different people (personas etc, call em what you will) living in your body at the same time. When you do commissioned work - or any work that is for SOMEONE else - remember that what is happening is one of those people inside of you is doing that specific work to help the others survive. Doing the work so that the others can continute doing what THEY need. You couldn’t be a creative, explorative, innovative person without them all cohabitating.”

Huh. I love it. I never looked at it that way…but now I will. And now maybe I can stop beating myself up over it and remember that the bean counter, worker bee in me is there for a reason - to help all of us in here to be happy.

Artists…wicked smaht.

Apparently, my gramma was a hipster too.

Why am I so oddly put off by sites like these?

http://www.punkdomestics.com/

http://hipgirlshome.com/

http://www.tigressinajam.blogspot.com/

I personally LIKE all these things - I, myself, am a prolific canner, baker, sewer, knitter and all those other “domestic” traits. But some how, even though I’ve been personally producing these things for years (and been made fun of to no end), how come I am not considered “cool” or “hip” or…? How come I feel oddly and, all of a sudden, like an outsider because of these sites?

And really…what the hell make THIS so hipster? My grandmother and mother weren’t “hip” and in fact, women who have traditionally done these things were considered dutiful, old fashioned or even - God forbid - lame.

I am all for getting folks interested in cooking, preserving, appreciating and respecting where our food comes from…but, does it have to be presented in such a “I’m cool and you clearly suck” kinda way?

*…and yes, I know I’m clearly being overly sensitive about this. It just stuck me today because I, too, would like to figure out what to do with all my extra rhubarb - but damn if I’ll ever be “cool” because of it*

...like a fly on the wall between 2 amazing artists. →

Fantastic videos of a conversation between Paul Simon & Chuck Close on so so many things that make me feel so lucky to be who I am meandering down this beautiful road of creativity.

"Nobody tells this to people who are beginners, I wish someone told me. All of us who do creative work, we get into it because we have good taste. But there is this gap. For the first couple years you make stuff, it’s just not that good. It’s trying to be good, it has potential, but it’s not. But your taste, the thing that got you into the game, is still killer. And your taste is why your work disappoints you. A lot of people never get past this phase, they quit. Most people I know who do interesting, creative work went through years of this. We know our work doesn’t have this special thing that we want it to have. We all go through this. And if you are just starting out or you are still in this phase, you gotta know its normal and the most important thing you can do is do a lot of work. Put yourself on a deadline so that every week you will finish one story. It is only by going through a volume of work that you will close that gap, and your work will be as good as your ambitions. And I took longer to figure out how to do this than anyone I’ve ever met. It’s gonna take awhile. It’s normal to take awhile. You’ve just gotta fight your way through."

Ira Glass (via @cc_chapman)

(Source: nefffy, via nprfreshair)

We’re all “con” artists…really.

I am always amazed at how something so serendipitous can happen right when I need it the most. Crappy day, down week, cold wet weather…feeling like a fraud that is quite possibly annoying the shit out her friends and acquaintances. You know, a “what the hell am I doing?” kinda week.

In a fit of boredom, I check in with my Google reader for inspiration…and sure enough, hit a post that has changed my day, my month - my summer even.

This post: How to steal like an artist… (READ IT or I won’t be your friend. )

There is nothing in it that is groundbreaking…but it puts in words much of what I feel and think everyday - gave me some validation even.

Quote from Post:

There’s this very real thing that runs rampant in educated people. It’s called imposter syndrome. The clinical definition is a “psychological phenomenon in which people are unable to internalize their accomplishments.” It means that you feel like a phony, like you’re just winging it, that you really don’t have any idea what you’re doing.

Guess what?

None of us do. … All I knew was that it felt good. It didn’t feel like work. It felt like play.

Ask any real artist, and they’ll tell you the truth: they don’t know where the good stuff comes from. They just show up to do their thing. Every day.

end quote

Do me a favor…read his whole post: http://www.austinkleon.com/2011/03/30/how-to-steal-like-an-artist-and-9-other-things-nobody-told-me/ - or at lease the first half.

Reading his steps kinda reminds me of something a friend of mine tells me when I’m being too self loathing and worried about what others think of me or my art…

“Maggi, build a bridge over your fears…and get over that shit.”

My friend. My home. My economy. →

Second Read (now known as Rock City Coffee and Books) has been my annex office for well over 10 years now.

A long post would detract for the basic gist of what Lacy is trying to do here…so, I will make a top 5 list of why I love Lacy, Rock City and the fact that we all have a say in what will happen within our local economy.

1. I literally have met all of my closest friends through Rock City (or the then, Second Read). They either worked there or we met while spending hours and hours whiling away the day in the coveted corner window seat on our computers.

2. When I was starting Midcoast Magnet and freelancing…I spent days upon days there….and now, freelancing again - I do the same. (Fighting Jesse for the corner seat of course.)

3. I was partly the reason they put the kibosh on “plugging in” to any outlet. Whoops. I also would have so many meetings there that the staff started pointing me out when anyone would ask “Is Maggi here? I’m meeting her…”

4. I was happy and proud when Lacy got her “fancy” job and left Second Read…but was elated when she decided to return as the book manager and Rocklandite.

5. I received some of my happiest news while at Second Read - that I was expecting. Now, I could be wrong…but I believe I’m the only person ever to take a pee test in the restroom there. Good thing the barista (Kiai/BFF) could keep a secret. She got the news WAY before my husband or family.

So you see, Rock City is more than a coffee and book store. It is my home. It shaped me, my life and my relationships. My life would be very different w/o it’s influence.

Eat your heart out Richard Florida - this is the 3rd place - and we, the people who love it…have a chance to help ourselves and our economy.

Consider a gift.

Create without Fear. Magpie Creative is back.

It took a while for my brain to wrap it’s self around all the pieces that need to be done…but the time had finally come to merge all my endeavors under the Magpie Creative brand.

www.magpiecreative.com

I’ve been freelancing under Magpie Creative (MPC) for over 10 years now - and have owned the domain for just as long. I think I was afraid when I began making and selling things (yarn, glass, metal, etc) around 6 years ago, I would dilute the graphic design brand that had done so well by me.

At that point, I was neck deep in a more professional arena where “craft” might not have been taken seriously and, it was before the notion of the “personal” brand. I had toyed with moving it all under “Maggi Blue” but in the end, the hassle of moving URLs, email addresses, account names was too daunting - and, Magpie Creative prevailed. I started MPC with a nose ring - and it has also returned (along with the threadbare jeans and flip flops).

I have put Dye Lot Collective to rest - and it feels good to not be so fractured anymore. I have lived as freelancer Magpie Creative for so long…it doesn’t feel new and strange, but like coming home to a comfortable skin.

Creativity is creativity is creativity…if you respect my passions an skills as an artisan then it seems more than fair that you trust my skills and experience as a designer. When I started MPC, I had a lot to learn (not that I don’t now, good Lord) BUT I now am comfortable with my design brain and my design knowledge. I trust that my portfolio and clients will speak for themselves - and they have.

I can finally put my fear of dilution aside and merge my many brains into one again.

You can find me online now @ www.magpiecreative.com: my revamped site (still under construction - aren’t they all really?)

Find me on Twitter at @magpiecreative

Find me on Facebook @ the new Magpie Creative fan page

Or over on my Etsy page (which has yet to switch over)

Hope to see you over there…it’s been a long ride - and now, it’s come full circle. Cheers.

Born out of fire.

I am a fiery personality. In more ways than one - this is something I am really only beginning to realize and accept. I don’t put much credence in astrological signs - however, it is hard to not see the similarities that I share with my Leo sign. I’m loud, opinionated, not really all that shy and I love - LOVE - the sun. I shrink during the winter - my skin, my person, my personality darkens. I am finding this love of the light, heat and fire has reached in and taken a hold of my creativity as well.

As a wannabe artist, I have been plagued by the fact that I don’t sketch, I don’t practice my drawing - painting doesn’t really intrigue me and (as much as I’d prefer) 2D things just don’t float my boat. I beat myself up for this. I chalked it up to the fact that I was indeed NOT an artist. I let it rule my aspirations and my inclinations towards creation.

This is utter shit.

Glass has allowed me to accept that I like it hot, elemental and laborious. I want to feel the heat on my face, the burn in my arms, the vibrations of the tools that are used, the exhaustion that comes after a piece is “born.”

Glass has endeared me to the kiln, and to heat, in a way that I never expected. Now, I am finding that glass is leading me to metals and metalworking (and torches!). I also want to work bigger - hotter. I envision this next phase of my creativity being as fiery as my personality. I want to play with molten glass. I want to weld. I want to hammer iron into submission…I want to create with heat and fire and tools and strength - in collaboration with my own fire and ideas.

And you know what…I’m not going to apologize for any of it. My fire is part of what makes me who I am. 

Below is a preliminary idea for a ring. Though, very simple - and nothing much to look at - this piece is the beginning for me. It’s the start of allowing myself to discover who I am, love the process that I choose (whatever the medium), relish in the craft.

…experimentation pains.

The process of experimentation…can go much like this:

1. Excitement at the idea and all the possibilities that seem to surround that idea. In this case, glass landscapes.

2. Execution of that idea. Shaky at first but things seemed to be coming out like I had envisioned.

3. Setting them gently in the kiln…with all the best intentions in the world. KNOWING they will turn out exactly as planned.

4. Discovering that half way thru the firing process the pieces were NOT going to turn out as I wanted. Frustration takes over. 

5. I stare at the finished pieces willing them into something else…that clearly doesn’t work.

6. I pout and blame the fact that I don’t have the “right” tool/equipment to do what I want.

7. I sit with them. Put them by the sink where they have to be seen several times a day. I let them grate on me. Mock me.

8. Eventually I start to like them…staring at them every day makes me think about how to work them (outside the kiln) into something that I might actually show to someone.

Once I hit number 9 - I’ll let you know.