Saturday, October 25, 2008

Frittering - Er, Make That Twittering Your Days Away...

To best understand where I'm coming from in this post, I highly recommend reading "Techno Twit and the Digital Suicide Attempt" posted in April of 2008 (It'll help - well, maybe :o) I really couldn't say why I did it; I shouldn't have (really) but I did. I signed up for Twitter. Why? I dunno - temporary insanity perhaps? Personally, I think the umpteen blogs, communities, cliques, groups, promotional sites, advertising sites, retail sites, networking sites, centers, albums, (yadda yadda yadda) I belong to should be more than enough to do already. AND let us not forget our very own twenty something page website (click here to go see it) I so stupidly opted to do FROM SCRATCH (to save money that we did not have) and now MAINTAIN (to save more money that we still don't have) for our not-for-profit farm. Attempting to promote the shops and our site, I signed up for something that looked helpful only to find there was another something to sign up for that came after it. It got to the point that I had to start jotting them down on a handydandy 3x5 index card to keep them all straight, then had to transfer it all to the front of a 4x6 index card when I ran out of room. Do I need to follow up with obvious? I am, of course, now on the back of that 4x6 index card and eyeballing some notebook paper (as said 4x6 is almost full on both sides :oP

I gotta wonder, though, about this latest craze: Twitter. The first thing you're asked upon joining is, "What are you doing right now?" Of course me being me said, "I'm typing this stupid sentence on Twitter..." Or words to that effect, anyway. It's a little on the voyeuristic side of life, isn't it? Why do you care what I am doing right now? Are you that bored? Why do I want to know what you are doing right now? What do I care? PLUS; if you want to be obnoxiously pickyabout it (and apparently I do), whatever I say I'm doing "right now" on Twitter can't be what I'm doing "right now" because "right now" the only thing I'm doing is typing on Twitter. So, now that I belong to this ridiculous group, does that make me an "official" Twit? When I type what I am doing now (but am no longer doing, about which you should not care) do I then become a Twitter-er?

I will very likely leave this site to go to that site to say what I am doing now (but am no longer; about which you probably will not care). Other than creating an immediate need for Tylenol, is there a point to this post? I seriously doubt it, but you know what? I don't care :o)

Sunday, October 19, 2008

Forget the Interior...How About Exterior Design?

~♥~ Quickie Post ~♥~

Neuroses notwithstanding, it is the goal of every artist to produce something people will genuinely appreciate. I am totally artistically insecure, having been raised on the premise that art is not a "real" profession but a hobby, plus I've only recently emerged from the creative closet (er, so to speak).

I tend to assume the worst of ambiguous comments like, "Wow, that's really something!" or "My, how unusual!" Considering I have used those very words when confronted with something unexpected that requires immediate feedback (like maybe a nose ring or hot pink hair), it's not much of a stretch to think those phrases can be used against you in return.

So how can you tell when someone reaaalllly loves your stuff? When they purchase a piece of your work and use it for exterior design, of course:

Imagine my surprise when one of my customers, Shannon (who did tell me a whole bunch of times how much she loved this sketch), said she wanted to use "Mama N me" [shown left] for her tattoo [on the right]. It was done in memory of the baby girl she lost, and other than changing it to color I'd have to say her tattooist (is that even a word?) did a great job ~ wow! So, I'm thinking I can safely say that Shannon (for sure :o) likes my work...

If you'd like to visit Shannon's shop, she has some lovely pieces of handmade jewelry at:


Oh, and thanks for the "impossible to misconstrue" compliment Shannon; we who are ridiculously insecure salute you :o)