Saturday, April 12, 2003

Earlier artists Gwen John: A Painter's Life, by Sue Roe, is one of the best I've read this year. Gwen John, born in 1876, was Rodin's model and muse, and became a successful painter. I found this book sometimes illuminating, sometimes sad, always interesting. One thing that I realized from reading this and the book on Matisee: the Early Years, is how much these artists studied. They studied in classes, studied alone, but were just always studying. None of this "now I have a degree, let's make money" or "now I've learned this skill, let's make money." It was all about getting better. The money was to buy paint and brushes so they could go on getting better. I used to feel that way - that the only reason I wanted money was to go on making bowls. I needed food, rent, and art supplies. What changed this? Needing my teeth cleaned....seriously, the main thing that changed it was inheriting money from my mother. That gave me the money to buy a computer, a digital camera, a beadblaster, my studio building, studio insurance - and to "raise" my standard of living. Instead of spending $40-60 a month for food, I started spending $150. Add clothes, moving from the studio into the cabin and buying furniture and appliances, books, and more computer stuff...and then more computer stuff....it quickly started to look impossible to go back to a simple way of life. Anything's possible, though. Certainly living simply is possible. I just need to choose. This isn't about being a "starving artist." Being a "starving artist" is now called a "syndrome" and is supposed to be a sign of neurosis, faulty thinking, or at the very least, not being cool. As Marguerite Wildenhain said, "But somewhere between the point when you consider buying a Cadillac or a mink coat and the point where you starve, there is a lot of leeway." (The Invisible Core, p. 161.) How did I know the page number? Back around 1983 or 84, I started a looseleaf binder called "Wisdom" and took notes from books that told me something about creative process. Now I'm on my third binder, but Marguerite is early in the first one. Some of her stuff I know by heart. Best is: "As fleeting as clouds are publicity, fame, and limelight, but the good pot will endure through the centuries because of its integrity, its sound and pure purpose, its original beauty, and especially because it is the indivisible, incorruptible, and complete expression of a human being." (quoted by the potter Charles Counts, in The Crafts Report, May 1985, p. 3. It was through Charles Counts that I learned of Marguerite Wildenhain.) 3:57:14 PM    comment []

Work and vacations The New York Times op-ed section (online) has an interesting piece today comparing US work hours with Western European. It says that the average employed American takes two weeks of paid vacation a year, working a total of 1978 hours a year. Do the math: that's just under 40 hours a week, for 50 weeks a year. By contrast, the average Western European takes five or six weeks of paid vacation a year, working a total of 1628 hours a year (350 hours a year less than Americans.) At six weeks of paid vacation a year, the European is working about 35 hours a week - but for only 46 weeks. The article concludes that Western Europeans chose to use technological advances and improvements in productivity, to give themselves more time. And that Americans, as a society, chose to give ourselves more money and possessions. I knew all this before, but reading it today is special timing for me. What does it mean for me personally, in my artmaking? For one thing, it means that I could stop thinking of myself as needing to work 50 weeks a year, at least - at 40 hours a week. A standard workweek for artist-blacksmiths is 6 production hours a day, plus 2 for ordering, cleanup and business - for a total of 30 production hours a week. Of course, sometimes sales efforts add to the total per week or decrease the production hours to around 24. I've kept this rough standard in mind, basically telling myself "if you can produce bowls for 30 hours a week, you can make a living." Of course, this is just something I made up in my mind. I could make up something else to believe, that serves me better - and serves the bowls better. So maybe I'll make up a new rule of thumb: that I can make a fine living taking five or six weeks of vacation a year. It's interesting to consider how I might use that much vacation time. 3:26:58 PM    comment []