There Are No Words

Okay, well, there's a few. But I can't really think of any good ones that don't sound trite.

xxx

Our first Holiday Open Studio at Barbara's was yesterday. Good food, good friends (see? trite.) Wonderful people who wanted to come see us and pick out fun handmade gifts for their loved ones. All three of us Undergrounders had an amazing experience. My thanks to everyone who showed up! You made it happen (trite! I know!).

xxx

Everything I do with the Underground Artists turns out to be more than it seems. Each experience brings out some issue I have, or somebody has, and it feels BIG. The dynamic of being part of a group is very powerful. I highly recommend this sort of "group therapy" to any artists out there, especially women who have been mothers and as a result have a somewhat skewed idea of our worth...and what our time is worth.

xxx

I saw a very funny print ad today, for Absolut Vodka. It's a husband and wife standing together in their living room. The woman is slim and smiling, glass of vodka (presumably Absolut) in her hand. Her husband is standing besider her, looking a bit rumpled, with a huge pregnant belly...ha!

can you picture it?

But I digress.

xxx

As moms, we're used to working literally 24/7, with no pay. (I laugh when my husband comes home and complains about his job...(I think: "YOU'RE GETTING PAID FOR IT... how bad can it really be?") And really, my mom job is great. I'm not whining. It's just that we're used to our time being worth "nothing": no money. So to get back into this art thing, this business part of it, we really have to change our thinking about what our time is worth. What WE are worth.

xxx

Just an aside: Why does Google's Blogger do away with the spaces in between my paragraphs? And where do they go? Does some other blogger get them...loads of space between her paragraphs? Anyone know the answer to this? I am forced to resort to creative measures to make it look like there's a space in between them. Like so:

xxx

And speaking of answers: the question I asked in my last post, about the ridiculously irrelevant tag in my hat...my husband figured it out. He held it up to the light: it had a microchip in it, to guard against stealing. Luckily it didn't guard against "shoulder shopping".