Niche Market

You know how it is, you are a bit bored and sitting next to a computer and one thing leads to another. Well Paul and I were just musing and Googling and we found a niche market just waiting to be exploited. There seems to be a huge hole in the birthday experiences market, You can go up in a helicopter, drive a Ferrari, have a pole dancing lesson. There are pampering days and whale watching in Cornwall. But no one is providing a Lesbian Birthday Experience. Odd really.

Networking

It was with some trepidation I made my first foray into the bowels of Home cafe in Oxton Village to attend a networking 'coffee morning'. I had realised that my almost complete creative isolation was far from ideal. With uni far behind me I no longer got to see the work of others being created or had the chance to chat informally about my own work. I even missed the critique sessions I had so dreaded when I had to do them. I had signed up for several art news letters online and plenty of opportunities for meeting other like minded folk were out there, but so many of them seemed intimidating. I wasn't overjoyed at the thought of walking in alone to some of the rather 'nice' venues in Liverpool city centre, unsure of what exactly happened at a networking event and loathing having to make small talk for no other reason than making small talk. I couldn't tell you what made me decide to brave the unknown and make my way one morning to a meeting of With These Hands, described as: networking events for Wirral visual creatives. Maybe it was the fact it was a cafe I at least knew from the exterior and that it was for coffee in the basement rather than the event I saw advertised that met in a smart bar starting with a cocktail. I usually drink water, how cool would I have looked whilst all around me held colourful concoctions (alcoholic or not) whilst networking their bottoms off?

At that first meeting I was given a warm welcome and immediately discovered interesting snippets of useful information and began to get to know my fellow networkees. It obviously wasn't the ordeal I dreaded as I have since attended another 'coffee morning' and tonight met up with an ever changing group of creatives in a pub and had a bite to eat after Alison Bailey Smith, who organises the group, recited Address to a Haggis in honour of it being Burns night.

So what am I saying? In the first instance, just going along to an event for 'creatives' helps me with my identity as artist rather than unemployed or housewife. Secondly networking does work, I have met interesting people who give me an insight into a diverse number of disciplines and how that pans out in real life, some still struggling like me to make any money or get recognition, others making a living , whilst still more somewhere in between. I also have heard of opportunities that would have passed me by had I not been in attendance - having a photograph in the Editions Christmas Exhibition for one. If like me you are wary of going along to a networking event, just do it. Take along some cards to give out and have somewhere to put all the cards you will get in return and good luck!

I've had a bath

After having no hot water in our bathroom other than the (electric) shower, it was blissful this evening to lay up to my chin in hot perfumed water that bubbled away care of my over-the-bath-spa device. Paul and I can't remember when we discovered that a joint in a pipe had been leaking steadily for a very, very, long time.For so long in fact that the substrate beneath the quarry tile floor had been eroded away and the floor had started to subside. This had been hidden from view as the pipe was behind the tumble dryer in our utility room. The joint was copper to lead and I was led to believe it would take equipment I didn't have to mend it. It must have been nine months or more ago, I was still at university, I didn't have the time to do anything more than cut out the bad section and cap off the copper pipe to stem the dripping. We all settled down to washing our hands in cold water and only having showers. In our house nothing ever seems to get done immediately. For one reason or another (and quite often no reason at all) it seems to be an unwritten law that we start a job then let an unreasonable length of time go by before it is finished. Money, ill health, and having better or more fun things to do stand between us and having a home where there aren't any outstanding major jobs.

Today though some inner rage and frustration took hold, I wanted a bath! Could I get the old immersion heated going again? It has remained walled up like some miscreant in a nunnery wall since the plumbing was overhauled when I moved in. I did try to resurrect it , but 21 yrs is a long time to remember exactly what was disconnected and rerouted where. I do realise that there will be those of you who would have removed the tank when it was no longer needed, but I see this and the remaining lead pipe as a nice nest egg in scrap metal for my old age. There will be even more of you who just don't understand the whole concept of doing without the hot water for a year, why for goodness sakes didn't you just get a plumber in? Ah well, money............................ Giving up on the immersion heater I turned my thoughts to putting in a new length of pipe up from the utility room to the bathroom, simple. No. Once I had the side of the bath off it became apparent that I would have to take the bath out if I wanted to get any piping up through the ceiling grrrrrrrrrr.

But desperation only strengthened my resolve. Forget Superman or 118 when you need help, the only way to go is to Google it. Now, I am not sure to be very pleased that the answer to my problem was so simple, or really annoyed that I hadn't found out sooner. All it took was a ten minute walk to the plumbers merchants, hand over £6.99 , then return home with a fitting made to attach lead pipe to copper - duh! The usual assortment of Laurel and Hardy moments ensued, but eventually several sopping wet towels later I emerged damp, grubby and victorious.

Splish, splash I will be taking a bath (a lot!)

Turn for the better?

It was a bad start to the year. The car breakdown that turned into a nightmare, the Blurb book of my photographs that was ordered in November '09 and still hadn't shown up by Jan. A few emails later and along it came last week, posing as my book on the outside, but revealing itself to be someone else's holiday snaps on the inside! My rather expensive A3 printer was refusing to produce anything despite my tenderest care and direst threats. Not to mention that the snow and ice meant no income for my self employed husband following immediately on from our similarly unpaid two weeks off over Christmas.

But thankfully the car is back and is running better with it's new clutch. Another Blurb book arrived today and joy of joys it is mine. The A3 printer still refuses to allow ink to reach paper, but I was able to get a malfunctioning printer we were given (same model as mine) up and running with not too much trouble. So I now am able to print again, yay! Money slowly coming in again, so things have taken a turn for the better.

Hopefully when I wake up tomorrow I will be cured of procrastinitis and want to exercise at 8am.

Conversation With Myself

I have taken advantage of being 'home alone' with no chance of anyone walking in on me to have one of my little talks with myself. I don't do it often maybe less than once a year. But I do find them very useful. They are usually initiated by a personal problem or set of circumstances I need to get my head around. I sit in one chair, facing another. My corporal self talks to another me in the other chair, I then answer my own questions. I did once try actually swapping seats for the questions and answers but frankly it it was vaguely ridiculous . This assumes that you don't find the act of talking to yourself in another chair ridiculous in the first place of course.

It can be very powerful talking out loud to yourself. Again there is a world of difference between consciously and deliberately talking to yourself and wandering through Asda mumbling to yourself about fish paste, buggies and Whitney Houston. Thoughts have a habit of being hijacked, before you know it they are meandering around in Dingley Dell. Whereas, a different consciousness when talking out loud keeps the agenda focused.

My conversation helped me declutter my thoughts and cut to the chase. I didn't always come up with satisfactory answers/results, but it did help to clarify what my main concerns are and which of the others are merely hangers on. I took a few notes about the observations I made throughout, along with a few statements to look back on when I am not seeing things as clearly as I did at the time.

Cauliflower Cheese

Oh the simple delight of being 'home alone' and making myself cauliflower cheese, yum. Paul is a brasica hating veggie and I must admit the smell does rather permeate every nook and cranny of the house. I think I may have over indulged, but hey, any after effects will go unnoticed

So lovely too, to tidy up and then return to the bread board and find it in the same condition I left it and for me to enjoy the fruits of my labour.

I love you both dear daughter and hubby, but sometimes I do enjoy having the house to myself. I am especially luxuriating in the calm of my new workroom, newly decorated and perfectly laid out and equipped for all my artistic endeavours!

Mama Mia on DVD and a glass of Baileys tonight it is then.

Musical Breaking Point

Anyone else experience 'musical breaking point'? Earlier I was sitting here doing a bit to my books and writing up my former blog. In the background my husband was listening to a selection of Country and Western songs. Not my favourite listening, but live and let live. I was concentrating quite hard on what I was doing and I think for the most at I didn't really register half of the tracks. But suddenly out of the blue, something inside exploded and I had had absolutely all I could take.I couldn't stand another bar of it.It took me by surprise and Paul too when I pleaded for him to change to some thing else immediately for pity's sake!

Well does it happen to anyone else?

Tilery Garage are *£^$

We are having a really bad experience with The Tilery Garage Kinmel Bay, Wales. My car broke down on the way home from holiday and was towed by the AA to this garage (28th Dec). It had a new clutch fitted and before we ever went to pick it up we were dissatisfied with their poor communication.

They called 4.30pm New Years Eve to let us know it was ready for collection. We hurried out and despite the poor weather (snow and ice) made it in about an hour. We were left hanging about in the freezing conditions as 'the boss' was out delivering a car. My husband left for home in his car before me and I made a 20 min visit to a friend five mins away before I too left for home. It was aparent after several miles that something was very wrong with the car and getting worse very quickly. I could barely manage 30 miles an hour on pitch black roads out in the countryside that I am unfamiliar with. I wasn't sure exactly where I was as I was between towns and couldn't find somewhere safe to park, with the car deteriorating by the minute.It was scarey. Eventually I limped into a petrol garage at St Asaph just off the A55. The smell alone from the front of the car confirmed the new clutch had 'gone'. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!

As my husband was still on his way home I had to get my oldest son to come out to rescue me. Lucky really that I had someone free to do so. Of course being New Year meant the car wasn't recovered till Saturday. Still dreadful communication. Unfortunately, by the time it was ready the snow had fallen and my poor car has been stranded since then at their garage waiting for them to deliver it back to me. Queried today when it was coming as the roads were ok now and after 4hrs or so called back to say -tonight. Well about 10pm we got a phone call to say otherwise.

Was I surprised they didn't bring it- no.

Am I surprised they actually let us know-amazed!

So Far So Good

Well the exercise regime may have taken a bit of a sabbatical, but I managed to get creative today and made two and three quarter mini accordion books (see other blog).



Tilly may have got out all the stuff to make the books and got down to some serious creating, but there might of been a lot more of it if Brenda had got up before noon and stayed off the computer when she was up. At least she resisted the temptation to watch Glee on TV once she was in the groove and recorded it instead.

I love to sit watching a favorite TV show whilst doing a bit of art or craft. Nothing too demanding either way, or one suffers whilst your concentration is taken up wholly by the other. I then bask in feelings of smugness that I am achieving something whilst being entertained.

Fug

I sit here 'stoned' from migraine medication, fugging up my thoughts. Glad the pain is over, but still unable to function properly. It is 4.15pm, looking out at the darkening sky I am prone to think the day is over. Yet if this were August how differently I would feel with over five hours of daylight left. All is quiet outside. The miserable world of half snow and ice, sullied and grimey, invites everyone to remain indoors.

Give me a sign

Well the secrecy has gone out of the window as I asked my husband to set me up another blog (this time I really am going to use it), and this one popped up. Good job I hadn't ever got round to saying anything sensitive!

My other blog will only contain the positive aspects of my creative life, whilst this will be more general and at times, not positive at all.

I finished a degree last year in Fine Art and Photography (First Class Honours), and have been in a stew ever since about the direction in which to go. I had gone primarily to study photography, but have had a lifetime of experience in the arts in general. The confusion and tormented dialogue that has been raging in my head has resulted in a torpor that mimics wallpaper paste. I have produced very little either photographically or fine art/craft.

One of the most dreaded questions toward the end of my degree and for the months that followed was ''What are you going to do now/are doing now?". I simply didn't know. The best answer was said for me by my Mum -"recovering!". I have been used to having to make things in an attempt to make money. Therefore what I made was dictated by my customer base. Sure I made things I liked, but ultimately the criteria was- will it sell?

Now here I was with a new set of values handed to me during my time at uni. Did I buy into them? Did I make work for me, true to my concepts and artistic vision. Should I aim now to think myself Artist as apposed to artisan? Whenever I thought of which direction to go I would have visions of different people, lecturers, fellow artists, family and friends and their expectations (or imagined expectations). I knew this was not the way to think but in reality they represented my own fractured outlook on my creative future.

A few months ago I put on an exhibition in our local library. This showed the element of schizophrenia present- Fine Art prints from work made for my degree and general 'crowd pleaser' prints, shown alongside a selection of traditionally hand bound books. I am determined to snap out of 'it' and get going. What with? It doesn't matter. Anything, as long as I begin to make and create agin on a day to day basis. Today I made a giant stride in this direction with a slightly pathetic paper bird (see Tilly Dance blog). I switched off my computer, left the magazine unread and MADE something. It wasn't original and has nothing what so ever to do with anything I intend to do myself, but maybe that was why I was able to do it.

My intention is to begin to make up some of the ideas I have for books (having only made blank journals/sketchbooks so far). Staying away from Facebook and the evil Bejeweled Blitz may be the first step.