I created another cute little sketchbook, this time a bit more durable:
It measures 5×4″, is made entirely of 140lb Acid Free Paper (the kind I use for most of my work), and I was extremely clever and place the holes so that you could trim the paper down to 4×4″ and frame your artwork/drawing/notes that are fabulous/etc. The cover was handpainted by me and then laminated so it’ll last, and the whole thing is bound together by 1″ bookrings so it is refillable (I sell refill packages as well). Himself has already requested a custom one be made for him (I always accept custom requests!).
And on to the links:
Tips for Staying Motivated after Graduation This doesn’t exactly apply to me-I’ve never been to art school-but I think the tips still apply. Right now I’m suffering the seasonal slump many retailers/small businesses experience during January/Tax Time/Where The Heck Did My Money Go Time and it can be hard not to take it personally. It’s especially hard because I’ve been working producing some really neat stuff: hand-stitched books, handmade bookmarks, new original art. And crickets. So I try mightily to ignore the crickets and to keep producing, because one day I will look back on this time and sigh in remembered contentment about all the unstructured creative time.
The Problem of the Default Parent So this happened to us. I don’t think either of us really thought through who should stay home with the kids, and in the early years it was a moot point as both of us were in college and working PT jobs, so we traded off and had grandparents covering the gaps in our crazy schedule. And then Himself graduated, and he was able to make more money, so tag! I was it.
And it was awful. For about six months I was the SAHP, responsible for the cooking/cleaning/homeschooling. I sank into a depression: was this really what my life was going to look like for the next 10+ years? But then I started practicing calligraphy, I did the invitations for my SIL, and now here we are, selling on etsy with grandiose dreams to sell at fairs and maybe own a little boutique someday.
But that wasn’t really the point of the article. It was about people ASSUMING it’s the mom staying home and that the dad is the surgeon. I don’t want my daughter or sons assuming anything. I want them to work/stay home/whatever they actually choose to do, without doing it as the default action.
My Boobs Broke My Washer This is just funny, and you might need a laugh today. I love Beth (although I’ve never met/talked to her), just like I love The Bloggess: both ladies struggle with depression, both are real about it, and both fight everyday to see the joy and the funny. I do not currently consider myself depressed, but between eating disorders and PPD I’ve had some up-close glimpses and I’m always working to keep the dark at bay.
And that’s it, folks. I’ll be working on more little journals and bookmarks, praying for elusive sales so I can inch closer to my dream of buying this really expensive printer that will revolutionize my business, and continuing to art on.