So I've been meaning to write about a little business venture I've been pursuing, and it is that of painting mason jars on pieces of salvaged wood.



I realize to the trained eye, these paintings are kitschy. (Don't think I don't know this. I know!)



But this is kind of the point.


This is the first one I ever did!

I have mentioned this before. I'm the Architectural Salvage Coordinator for Knox Heritage which means I head up a program where people like yourself can donate old building materials instead of throwing them away. We don't salvage out of houses that are going to be torn down because we are anti-tearing down historic houses/buildings, but we do take items here and there that people have laying around after home-improvement/updating projects, and even some things from larger commercial renovations.



It all began at work. I was drawing in a staff meeting at Knox Heritage last year (They knew this, by the way) I was trying to think of a symbol that I could paint on pieces of old wood that had the theme of preservation, something people could relate to, something that could help spread the word about our program, and a light bulb went on: a Mason Jar! It was the kind of idea that you know someone else has thought of, but I decided not to care. Lots of thought to come to the idea, and once the idea came, lots of doing, and less thought (This method is an art in itself).



It's been pretty interesting to make so many of one thing. I paint them in between painting larger, more thoughtful works on canvas. It is nice to have a side project that I enjoy, that is repetitive, sort of mindless.



The first one I sold was at the Riverdale County Fair out in East Knox County.






















Now I sell them via Etsy and at the Market Square Farmers' Market every first and third Saturday of the month. I have mailed them to Colorado, Maryland, Chicago, NYC... I'm a dork; It is so much fun to mail these paintings!



I have plans to make at least 100; I am on number 40, I think. After that, I have a feeling I won't want to paint another mason jar ever again. I don't know yet, but I have to think of another good idea to pick up before number 100. I kind of like this idea of doing editions of 100- more marketable, smaller, folksier art that I can do alongside the other work I am making. I'm trusting I'll get a new idea while making Mason Jar No. 99.

Today I read this post about being a shy business woman on Design Sponge. This article should have begun with "Dear Beth Meadows,"

***

I'm in the midst of trying to pursue painting. As a career? I don't know. All I know is that I love to paint, and I will do what it takes to keep painting.

I realize in order to make this happen I have to kick up my business know-how several notches. The problem is, I am in no way inclined to be a business woman, and if I have deceived anyone into thinking I'm good at it, know that it came with much struggle.

Most artists are solely made to make work, not to be business people, but the world demands us to get out there and promote ourselves. I hate it, most artists do, but we realize we have to go out on a limb if we want to keep making work.

So many artists, however, can't promote themselves without being pretentious, arrogant, or annoying. I sat through many artist lectures at the University of Tennessee which proved this to be true.

This leads me to ask myself: How do I promote myself without being annoying to myself and others? How do I promote myself without sounding arrogant? When I post anything about art on Facebook, how many people does it annoy? Can I still be introverted and awkward? What is the likelihood of someone becoming my benefactor/ agent?

I'll share the answers as I learn them.

When people ask me what artists I admire or inspire me, I feel a little uneasy. For one, I remember work, but not always who made it. Two, the art that most directly inspires me isn't typically found in a museum but rather on my bookshelf.

This leads me to confess something. I am a children's book buying addict.

I'm not addicted to just any children's book but particular ones motivate me to paint more than most things can. For one, the books I grew up with take me back to my shy and quiet childhood. Because most of my paintings are based on memories, this is important. Two, I enjoy the simplicity of line, shape, and color- the flatness of the pictures.

The quintessential example, the book that got me thinking about the paintings I wanted to make in college, is Space Case by James Edward Marshall. The characters, the colors against a nighttime sky, his attention to mundane details, the humor. It's wonderful.


^color against black


^characters


^This is the first drawing I did where I pursued this subject matter. It was 2005, and I replaced the characters with some characters I know. I apologize for the poor quality of this image.

One of my favorite things to do is go to McKays used bookstore and follow the little kid footprints to the children's section. There, amongst the moms, elementary teachers, and small children, I find peace sifting through colorful books, looking for treasures I've missed. I've found many by Marshall, and I buy them all.

One of my favorite finds is Yummers, a story about a turtle named Eugene who encourages his pig friend Emily to exercise more. They go on a walk, which turns into them stopping every few minutes to eat snacks. They eat so much, Emily becomes sick, has to lie down, and blames her woes on the walk. Eugene brings her food to make her feel better.

Brilliant.

I also love this book because on the back is the first photo of Marshall I had ever seen. Of course he would have a precious bulldog.

After this, I decided to write him a letter to express my gratitude to him, but when I searched online for an address, I discovered he had passed away in 1992. I dedicated my last show at the Tomato Head to him instead of writing the letter.

Some have asked if I'd like to write/ illustrate a children's book one day. I have an idea for one, and my goal is to write and illustrate it by the time I'm 55. (I've tried to sit down and do it. It's hard) Until then, I'm making somber, funny, color-against-black, simple yet complex paintings on canvas. I'm also dreaming of how great it would be to talk to this mustached man.

I recently watched When Harry Met Sally, for the hundredth time. Since then I keep thinking about the Wagon Wheel Coffee Table Scene. The way Harry says "Ira!" in turn makes me think of the way George Banks says "Me!" in the Superfluous Buns scene in Father of the Bride.

Below are each of the clips for you to enjoy. I've also included, at the bottom, one of my favorite movie scenes ever as an added bonus.

I don't have the internet at my apartment anymore. My neighbor let me borrow it all year, and he moved, so no more streaming television, no more wasting time on Facebook, and less ability to blog. I consider all these good things.












My home has been tidier and I've taken care of little projects that have been looming over my head for months. Confession: My bathroom lighting is really poor. Why? There is a fixture that I've never put a light bulb in. Last night I finally put one in. It took me eleven months. I don't know if, for a fact, this was taken care of because I now don't have the internet, but I'm going to connect the two. (By the way, when I say internet, I mostly mean Facebook)

It's really not that I'm lazy, but I will be the first to admit I am easily distracted. One of the things that distracts me the most is any type of screen- TVs, computers. I wrote about this before, that I don't have cable, etc. because I am cheap, but there's another reason. It's too easy for me to spend all my time in front of a TV or computer, and when it comes to doing a load of laundry that's been sitting there for weeks or watching the Modern Family, Modern Family will win every time. As a result, I will laugh for 30 minutes watching TV, but the pile of laundry will eat away at my soul day after day. It's not worth it.

For me, the internet is wonderful and alluring but so dangerous at the same time. It is to me what liquor is to an alcoholic, and in all its goodness, it has added much pathetic-ness to my life.

Would you like a glimpse into my pathetic-ness? Well, sometimes when I am out with people, having a good time, and the night is coming to an end, I have this little tugging desire to go home and check Facebook. Lame!

I don't have to explain why this is bothersome, but what is worse is that more times than not, all I end up doing is scrolling through pictures of people that make me feel unnecessary emotions- loneliness, dissatisfaction, jealousy...

I am reminded that underneath everyone's (/ my own) photos, status updates, and witty banter, there is a real, awkward, struggling, wonderful person underneath, and I'm too lazy and intimidated to call them.

The moral of this story is, I think I'll keep my apartment internet free, at least for now. A cleaner home, one where I take care of things, is more important than being "connected" all of the time. I'd like to be more present with people and quit wondering how many notifications I've racked up while I've been away from my computer. Again, lame!

Besides, I have internet at work and in my studio so I can get all of my stalking done during those hours anyway.

"So what does this mean for your blog?!" you worriedly ask.  It means I may not post every week. It also means the first draft of these expanded thoughts will most likely be hand written, then typed into Text Edit, and then copied and pasted here, which is cool because it will be closer to how I first began writing and just might make my writing better. But don't hold your breath.

This blog has had one public follower (or what I like to call, a member of the With Bear Hands Dream Team) since almost the beginning, and her name is Alice Mayo.

Alice, because of your public affection for me/this blog. I would like to give you something. What do you want? A mason jar?:






















a drawing of you and your pretty red hair, done in a similar manner as this?:






















 (note: I'll probably end up drawing you anyway, even if you don't ask me to)

I want to say thank you, so show me how.

As for the rest of you nice people lurking in the shadows, may this be incentive to check back here in the future. I'm up to my ears in artwork, and I may just use this blog as a means to play out a fleeting moment of generosity.

I've been having trouble writing recently. I keep starting posts and not finishing them. My words feel forced, and I can't find the right words to express anything.

During this mental block, here is a list of some things I wish that I had the eloquence to write about, to hopefully ignite a journalistic flame.

1. my most recent painting about a man and a woman and their similarities to Cyclops and Athena

2. how I am about to go part time at Knox Heritage starting next week and how this makes me anxious, nervous, and extremely excited

3. how I hope that more time to work on certain projects does not turn into me lazing about my apartment with Juicy

4. my recent infatuation with intelligent, kind, and respectable men rather than my former infatuation with... the opposite...

5. how surprising the depth of my sadness is that my neighbor Hunter and his dog have just moved

6. how tornadoes have got me thinking about my masked materialism

7. how my last trip to the mall was transformational, how it resulted in me going on a jog instead of drinking beer, and how I can't get my mind off a particular purple BCBG dress (bizarre)

8. how I really want shoes that are "architectural" (also bizarre)

9. wondering if one can be fashionable and not materialistic at the same time

10. the BS that is existentialism

11. moving to a bigger city

12. how another friend moving away has gotten me thinking about my past inability to be honest with others/myself, and my current gratefulness to be in a healthier emotional state

13. how the selling of my grandfather's lakehouse feels like him dying again and also like closing a door to my childhood

14. how wanting to lead a simpler life has me wondering what that means for all the boxes I've filled over the years with the intention to make scrapbooks

15. how trivia night might be the most productive way to drink beer

16. The lore of Juicy- how she came to me, why I love her, and why she makes me not want to have children

17. the intricacies of being friends with males (and by friends I mean just friends)

18. How the moving away of friends means the probability of new people to enter my life. I wonder who the lucky ones will be...

19. How I've been incessantly listening to dance music, the reasons and implications of this (listen at your own risk/don't judge me)

20. How, like John Mayer (who I used to make fun of my freshman year roommate for listening to, but now I admittedly really like), I desire for myself and the people I love to be able to say what's on our minds and in our hearts.

On that note that makes me feel a little vulnerable, here's to future eloquence.

I'm suing Fancy Feast for stealing my diary and making a commercial about my hopes and dreams.