DREAMERS AND MUSIC-MAKERS

My original shrines made a great display of my work! And now the dream continues….

Sometimes I surprise myself.

When I wrote “Art for Money, Money for Art”, I was solidly grounded in my story, my artwork. But the world sure wasn’t. Ever since I’d started my professional art career, it seemed like every day, the news was full of something dire. It began with 9/11 and marched through invading more and more Mid-Eastern countries. Galleries struggled, sales wavered, and then finally, the Recession of 2008 put a dagger in my hopes of becoming a “rich and successful” artist.

And yet, my principles remained strong. I knew I was making my work for all the right reasons, even as some people mocked me for being a “Pollyanna” about my slumping sales.

When the Recession hit a few years later, I did get a little desperate. For the first time, I submitted jewelry work to a mail-order catalog. I learned a lot, a few items were accepted and published, and I made enough sales to heal my drained bank account.

But I also learned that making something strictly for money, something that was a ‘sure seller’, something I had to make hundreds of, was not for me.

Okay, I’ll admit, if I had to actually pay my own rent and put food on the table, I would do it differently. As my wonderful partner has said, “I get paid pretty well to do the work I love. It’s not your fault the work you love doesn’t pay too well.” Thank you, sweetie!

It’s just that making something to please someone else, making the exact same thing in multiples, over and over, and the betting on a sample that might bring in some money but probably not, became pretty stressful. It drained me. I was relieved to return to my happy place in my art-making.

Segue to the pandemic, where sales dropped for everyone….

One day in my studio, as I was composing yet another beautiful necklace, it hit me. I love making jewelry with my artifacts. It’s my best-selling category, too.

But I realized my studio is already full of jewelry. I don’t really need to make more, except that making makes me happy. (I’m sure autocorrect is going crazy right now…)

And I realized there was a big project I’ve been holding in my heart for almost a decade or more. I could feel it calling to me: My shrine series, from 2013.

What held me back?

• Some technical issues I couldn’t figure out.
• A lack of materials.
• Worrying about whether it would sell.

I decided to simply start with what I had, and see what happened.

What happened was a small miracle.

• Yes, I hit those technical issues pretty quickly. And guess what? After some trial-and-error attempts, I eventually figured out a good way to manage them. They were so good, I actually went back and took some earlier pieces apart and redid them.
• I started work in a series of colors, making multiple versions that were still unique.
• I found sources for almost everything I needed: Tiny brackets, even tinier screws, new candidates for smaller boxes and drawers, and work-arounds for every issue that cropped up.

I now have almost completed fifty shrines in my studio. (“Completed” is a relative term. Next come artifacts, and then mounting them in the box shrines.) I have so many, I’m now panicking about an upcoming open studio in June. Because my shrines have commandeered every inch of space in my studio.

Thanks and a hat tip to Natalia Gorwalski, who generously gave me these little tool/parts drawers, now painted and waxed and ready for stacking!

What kept me awake in the middle of the night?

Wondering if they would ever even sell.

I know this worry for what it is: My brain trying desperately to find a “solution” to an overabundance of shrines.

So today’s article “Fresh Drive” by Sara Genn, landed at just the right time for me. (Sara continues the journey of her father, Robert Genn, with their blog, The Painter’s Keys. Any creative can benefit from their shared insights and wisdom.)

I am again restored me to my highest, best, artist self.

Genn discusses “intrinsic vs extrinsic drive”. Extrinsic drive are the external rewards we seek from whatever we do, based on “if/then”. “If I stick to my diet, I can lose weight.” “If I work overtime, I can get make more money.” “If I create a chart, I can get my kids to do their chores.” Extrinsic drive is good for establishing new habits, getting things done, attaining our goals, etc. I would add, ‘seeking fame and fortune’ to those extrinsic goals, which is also a common goal for artists.)

But it turns out that extrinsic drive can be toxic to creative work. “Artists, it seems, are inspired by everything but an extrinsic reward.”

Aha!

“Intrinsic motivation is dependent upon three main factors; autonomy, or auteurship; mastery, or the pursuit of excellence in a given skill; and purpose, the soul-driven intention behind a quest or endeavour. Finding out one’s purpose is a lifelong exercise — and should be mutable and ever-evolving.”

My drive to make these shrines is a way to use this pandemic to work on something that has no endgame right now. I want to see them in the world. Every new one I put together is so satisfying!

I was delighted to see my “Pollyana” outlook reinforced by Daniel H. Pink, one of my favorite authors:

“Daniel Pink, an expert on human motivation, has made a case for imploring businesspeople to understand what artists innately already practice: in the near-carrotless world of fine art, where the journey is often the only reward, the ideas are inherently better. Without a known destination or straight path to victory, artists dwell in the periphery of problems and solutions, forced to look around and take time to contemplate options and routes to discovery. The secret to meaningful conceptual thinking is to circumvent the obvious and embrace the mysteries. This is how we surprise ourselves and push beyond the “first thought.” While the first thought may be the most expedient, it will not advance the artform. You must commit, over and over again, to putting yourself in the arena of better ideas, so that a process of discovery can take hold.”

Once again, I feel validated.

I started with a “first thought”. Then I quickly ran into every obstacle that’s held me back for years.

But this time, Instead of setting everything aside until I had a ‘perfect’ solution, I simply started.

As problems arose along the way, I figured a way through them, one at a time. I changed my mind about a lot of things, and learned a lot along the way. And as I got better, so did my strategies for solving problems.

I still wake up in the wee hours, wondering how I’m going to handle this or manage that. I still look at my studio and wonder, “Where will I even put all these??” “Will these ever sell??” “Should I start looking for a gallery to send an exhibition proposal to???” “Are these as wonderful as I think they are, or am I just kidding myself?????”

Go back to sleep, lizard brain. I got this! My newest mantra for my lizard brain is, “I’ll figure that out when I get there….” And so far, it works!

So for all the artists I’ve heard from over the years, especially this past year, who worry about sales, who struggle to keep making their work, who want to know how to recreate a successful time in their art career, who wonder if it’s even worth it if they can’t sell it, etc., here is my free advice:

Do what you have to do, to survive these troublesome times.

But never surrender the work of your heart, your art, your dream project.

 Find a way to dive in, today, now! Make a little room in your day for it.

Set aside your self-doubt, your worry, your self-judgment for now. Do what brings you joy. (Says Luann, scrubbing turquoise paint off her hands and face for the tenth time this month.)

We are not wishful thinkers. We are the music-makers, and we are the dreamers of dreams.

Know that our artwork can inspire others on so many levels, in ways we can’t even imagine.

Follow your creative heart and never let it go.

Your comments are always welcome, often insightful, and sometimes inspirational, too! Shares, the same. You can find more of my articles at Fine Art Views, and/or visit/subscribe to my blog.

Small shrines, big shrines, and everything in between….

NEWSLETTERS (AND BLOGS!) 101 #28: Share Who You Are

It’s good when your artist story/statement/tag line matches your body of work.

3/9/2021 by Luann Udell
26 Comments

This post is by Luann Udell, regular contributing author for FineArtViews. She’s blogged since 2002 about the business side–and the spiritual inside–of art. She says, “I share my experiences so you won’t have to make ALL the same mistakes I did….”  For ten years, Luann also wrote a column (“Craft Matters”) for The Crafts Report magazine (a monthly business resource for the crafts professional) where she explored the funnier side of her life in craft. She’s a double-juried member of the prestigious League of New Hampshire Craftsmen (fiber & art jewelry). Her work has appeared in books, magazines, and newspapers across the country and she is a published writer.

Marketing is about sharing—and KNOWING—our own unique story!

 (3.5 minute read)
Yesterday a friend/fellow artist sent me a link to another artist’s “artist sentence/statement”.
It was slightly crushing, on so many levels.

The first is, they are highly-visible in their field, selling for famous mail-order art catalogs, featured on several platforms, etc. So, a little envy popped up. (Note to self: “Money/fame are not the only measure of our success.”) (See? I have to remind myself, too!)

Second, their “art sentences” was dismaying. Very, very similar to my own tag, which is “Ancient stories retold in modern artifacts.” (Let’s just say the identical word ratio was about 50%-75%.)

But what was really weird is, their work did not reflect this aesthetic.

I fumed, briefly. What should I do? Complain? To whom? Do I “own” these words? No. Do I know for sure they copied mine? No. Do I know who’s been using them longer? No.

I even subscribed to their newsletter, thinking I’d get a feel for who they really are, at heart.

And then it hit me:

Why should I care???

I can make assumptions. I can do research. I can fume all I want.

In the end, I have no control over this situation. Zip.

Even if I did, here’s what I finally realized:

Do I want to waste my precious time and energy taking this on? Do I really want to die on this hill?

 

The answer is, “Nope.”

Focusing on the negative leads to dark places, loss of energy, and distraction.

 

That artist can do “them”. I will do me.

My work has been, um, imitated, from time to time. I’m sure even more than I know! Because the ones I know about are often because the, um, imitator, actually shared that information with me. Polymer clay is a relatively new art medium, and techniques/palettes/projects get shared/copied/reposted constantly. (Oddly, the polymer people who are most protective of their “copyrights” are NOT the people who originally created those techniques/palettes/projects. Go figure.) For more insights on copying and the polymer/any art medium world, check out this article and this one by Ginger Davis Allman of The Blue Bottle Tree.)

I was going to say this is the first time my words have been borrowed. Except that’s not true, either. For a long time, some people would repost my blog posts and articles on their own platforms. Not good. Because invariably, their readers assume they wrote them! (FWIW, it’s more respectful to share a synopsis, or a personal take on how the article affected you, and share a link back the writer’s platform.)

I finally stopped that, too, unless it goes too far.

I am not saying you or anyone else has my permission to copy any of my work.

What I will say is this: People who do this? They yearn for what we have, but either haven’t developed their own skills, story, and personal vision, or have chosen not to.

There we have it. The power of our choices.

 

Today, I will unsubscribe from their newsletter. I will work on my stuff today, and let go of envy. I will scratch my head about an artist story that doesn’t really relate to that artist’s work, and didn’t encourage me to want to learn more.

And I will move on.

I will go to my studio and continue working on my new shrine series. (A customer followed up with me today, asking if I’d contacted the gallery they’d referred me to. Dang! They’re doing better follow-up than I am!)

I will focus on the work that brings me joy, and peace in my heart. I will find ways to share it today, in my social media marketing.

I will continue to only focus on what is under my control, and strive to let go of what isn’t.

And I hope with all my heart that today’s words will encourage you to do the same! (If you aren’t already, in which case, good on you!) (My husband asked me where this phrase came from, as opposed to “good FOR you”. I think it’s a New England thing.)

Your comments are always welcome, often insightful, and sometimes inspirational, too! Shares, the same. You can find more of my articles at Fine Art Views, and/or visit/subscribe to them through my blog.

NEWSLETTERS (AND BLOGS!) 101: #27 Small Things Matter!

Tuck inspired me to create dog artifacts..though I usually stick with what an ancient dog looked like, I made a floppy-eared dog for a custom order.

3/2/2021  by Luann Udell
This post is by Luann Udell, regular contributing author for FineArtViews. She’s blogged since 2002 about the business side–and the spiritual inside–of art. She says, “I share my experiences so you won’t have to make ALL the same mistakes I did….”  For ten years, Luann also wrote a column (“Craft Matters”) for The Crafts Report magazine (a monthly business resource for the crafts professional) where she explored the funnier side of her life in craft. She’s a double-juried member of the prestigious League of New Hampshire Craftsmen (fiber & art jewelry). Her work has appeared in books, magazines, and newspapers across the country and she is a published writer.

The tiny thing that keeps me subscribed to this no-longer-needed newsletter….

(4 minute read)

 “Success is not final.

Failure is not fatal.

It is the courage to continue

That counts.”

          Winston Churchill

We lost our beloved dog Tuck in 2019, about an attack of pancreatitis that resulted in diabetes, which led to other complications, and ended with that sad truth: All dog stories begin with laughter, and end with tears.

He was our first dog, and I learned so much about our human history with these beloved companions. Turns out they been with us a looooong time. The love we feel for them (and them for us!) is a partnership that follows us even into the darkest places.

I had to find affordable syringes for his insulin shots, and finally ordered hundreds from AvaCare Medical. But Tuck died before we used them all, and I still get the newsletters from this company.

I could unsubscribe, of course. Every time they land in my mailbox (about once a week), they rekindle some sad memories.

But I don’t.

Why?

Because of a tiny thing that I might have overlooked, if I hadn’t noticed it last year.

Every newsletter contains what they call a “Candid Quote of the Week.” And I absolutely love them!

They always carry a hopeful message, one of kindness, insight, encouragement. Last week’s was “Every day may not be good. But there is something good in every day.” (No accreditation in that one! But it rings true, for me.)

The quote above, from Winston Churchill? That one arrived today.

And like a horoscope, I can find some truth/alignment/insight/inspiration, if I want to look for it. (I usually do!)

So a newsletter I get because of a one-time purchase for Tuck’s diabetes, is still a treasure. A newsletter with a reminder that our time with our beloved pets is never long enough, still brings me hope. A newsletter from a company I sincerely hope I never have to purchase from again, is something I stop and check out every week, without fail.

If a company specializing in syringes and wheelchairs is so meaningful to me, during these strange times, how powerful can our newsletters be, to our audience, our followers, our collectors?

 

I know for a fact that we artists sometimes lose track of what our place in the world is.

We despair when sales drop, or are slow to come. We are frustrated when our work isn’t accepted in that exhibition, or that prestigious gallery. We may envy the success of others, wondering what we are doing wrong. We may doubt the value of the work we do, and wonder if all our effort is even worth it.

It’s easy for me to say, “YOU MATTER, dang it!” But where’s the proof??

The first proof is that our work should matter to us. Yes, there may be a delicate balance between making what sells, and making what brings us joy. If you make a living from your art, you know first-hand the struggle there. (If there’s no ‘struggle’, good on you! You’ve found the perfect balance! And if you’ve found it, you give hope that the rest of us can, too.)

The second proof is when we share it with the world. This can be through sales, of course, and those used to happen through gallery representation, and our open studio events.

In our lifetime, and during these trying times, we can even leap over these often-constructed/restricted venues, with the help of social media marketing: Through our email newsletters, our Facebook biz page, our Instagram accounts, on Twitter, even LinkedIn. It’s free, it’s easy, it’s generous, it’s effective.

If one person’s heart is lifted because I share, that’s good enough for me. When one person lets me know they love my work, or my words helped them through a hard day, I feel it’s worth it.

I’m grateful for this skill, the ability to tell my story through my artwork. I’m grateful it’s easier than ever to share it online. I’m grateful I get to curate my own work: What will I share today? An idea? A work-in-progress? My latest finished work? My workspace? A solution to something that was holding me back? A resource for other creatives?

All of these can be welcomed, appreciated, enjoyed by others.

And it all is built on my artwork, which healed me, which gives me a voice in the world, which is so out-of-the-box (literally!) no one ever knows what “category” to put me in.

 

From prehistoric times, art/music/healing/teaching has been a powerful way to create community, and to celebrate the individual.

That is exactly what creative work does, and why it’s such a powerful force for good in the world.

This made me realize I should write back to AvaCare Medical today, and let them know that they matter. I’ll tell them that their little quotes, focused on us feeling better, doing better, having hope, have lifted my heart.

And I hope this newsletter does the same, for you!

Your comments are always welcome, often insightful, and sometimes inspirational, too! Shares, the same. You can find more of my articles at Fine Art Views, and/or visit/subscribe to them through my blog.

NEWSLETTERS (AND BLOGS) 101 #25: Share Your Wonder!

And we get used to ‘normal’, we don’t think of it as unusual at all. Swift birds bring songs of hope from the far corners of the earth. They urge me to tell more stories.

2/16/2021 by Luann Udell
This post is by Luann Udell, regular contributing author for FineArtViews. She’s blogged since 2002 about the business side–and the spiritual inside–of art. She says, “I share my experiences so you won’t have to make ALL the same mistakes I did….”  For ten years, Luann also wrote a column (“Craft Matters”) for The Crafts Report magazine (a monthly business resource for the crafts professional) where she explored the funnier side of her life in craft. She’s a double-juried member of the prestigious League of New Hampshire Craftsmen (fiber & art jewelry). Her work has appeared in books, magazines, and newspapers across the country and she is a published writer.

You may offer new joy to those who take such things for granted!
(4 minute read)

 I have lived in the Midwest, the East Coast, New England, as far north as New Hampshire and as far south as Baltimore.

In over sixty years, I never saw a hummingbird at rest. Never once.

Oh, I get there could be “reasons”. We’ve had bird feeders, but never hummer feeders. I don’t think they winter over in places like Michigan, Massachusetts, or New Hampshire, though I could be wrong. (I could stop to research this, but that’s not the point of this article. You can, though! And let me know.) (Never mind, I did look it up, and no, they don’t winter over in northern climates.)

Then we moved to California six years ago, and that changed.

The first house we lived in, we still had no feeder. But we soon learned that a hummingbird came to a tree in front of our porch, every single night, at the exact same time (relative to sunset) to sleep for the night. He sat in exactly the same spot, too, though he would take different routes/paths to get there every night, too.

We could set our watches by his pattern, and we often ran to the porch to see him “turn in” for the night.

Then in October, our little neighborhood had a Halloween parade. It was joyful and noisy. It annoyed the hummer, and he left for the rest of the winter.

Now, in our new rental home, we have feeders, and so do neighbors. I see hummingbirds all day, every day, at rest—and everywhere else!
They perch on telephone wires. They rest in trees, one that’s outside our bathroom window. I get to brush my teeth and watch the little guy groom, scritch, hop around from branch to branch, and fend off intruders and rivals regularly. One had residence in a shrubby space outside my old studio door. He would duke it out regularly with the California scrub jay and the mated pair of Steller’s jays that hung out there, too.

A little bird that used to be a complete (visual) mystery has now become a wonderful part of our everyday life here.

Others have even more intimate experiences. A hummer-lover here has one of those hand-feeders, and the patience to get hummers to sip the nectar from her hand!

Sharing that here in California, maybe that would get a “meh” reaction. Because it’s ‘normal’ here. But I’m guessing much of my audience back in those states we used to call home? Would be gaga at what I’m sharing today.

Now, if you are someone who paints/draws/writes about birds regularly, you might already be sharing stories like these.

But if you’ve relocated once/twice/a heckuva lot in your life, you have a powerful access to what is unusual, intriguing, and different. You experience first-hand a whole slew of little miracles, every day. (My first was having to go for a run in Baltimore at 6 a.m., in April, to avoid the heat. IN APRIL. If you grew up in Michigan, like I did, your jaw may be dropping right now.)

Every place/time/state/city/etc. has its own ‘normal’. And we get used to ‘normal’, we don’t think of it as unusual at all.

When we realize what we’re experiencing is special, in and of itself, it widens our appreciation of life. It lifts our heart. It can bring joy in hard times. (Remember that little maple seed pod in SOUL?)

And what better way to share that little insight in our social media? In our email newsletters, our blog posts, our Facebook and Instagram posts?

Bonus feature: Do you hate starlings and pigeons because they are ‘useless, annoying city birds”? You might have more respect for pigeons after reading this article and more awe for starlings after watching this stunning video. (Watch this full-screen for the best experience.)

Your shares and comments are always welcomed!

Share this link from FineArtViews.com or view my blog at luannudell.wordpress.com.

If someone shared this article with you, and you’d like to read more in this series, visit my articles at FineArtViews.com.

PS:  Help stop the Salmonella epidemic during migration season!

NEWSLETTERS (AND BLOGS) 101 #24 and a half: Don’t Do This!

2/9/2021 by Luann Udell

This post is by Luann Udell, regular contributing author for FineArtViews. She’s blogged since 2002 about the business side–and the spiritual inside–of art. She says, “I share my experiences so you won’t have to make ALL the same mistakes I did….”  For ten years, Luann also wrote a column (“Craft Matters”) for The Crafts Report magazine (a monthly business resource for the crafts professional) where she explored the funnier side of her life in craft. She’s a double-juried member of the prestigious League of New Hampshire Craftsmen (fiber & art jewelry). Her work has appeared in books, magazines, and newspapers across the country and she is a published writer.

When it comes to email newsletters, asking for permission is a heckuva lot more professional than asking for forgiveness!

(4 minute read)

A couple of things that really bug me popped up in my email inbox lately. They are related, but separate.

And I realized, if they annoy me, they will probably annoy your fans, too.

The first one is:

Don’t cc everyone on your email list! Use bcc instead, please!

Lately, I’ve been added to some unusual email lists, ones I didn’t sign up for. (More on that below.) They were mostly friends who wanted to ‘get the word out’ about something specific.

They included everyone’s email address in the “cc” section.

This may seem like a harmless issue, or perhaps even too picky.

But this IS an issue for several reasons:

• Some of those people might be very protective of their privacy and contact info. And you just shared it with dozens, maybe hundreds of people they don’t even know.
• Someone may be protective of their privacy because of abuse, physical harm they’ve suffered, scammers, etc.
• There may be someone in that group they want to avoid, for many reasons, large and small.
• And some people may be tempted to do the second thing I hate:

Please don’t sign me up for your email newsletters unless I specifically ASK to be signed up.

When people ask a question about my articles, I usually ask them to send an example. And since I’ve been writing about email newsletters, that’s what I get.

Except, many people signed me up for their newsletters, permanently.

And other people included in that “cc list” may do that, too.

I know for sure this is what happened to me. I signed up for a workshop a couple years ago, with a local artist hosting a meet-up for a nationally-based art consultant. The consultant and the host sent updates. I ended up not being able to attend.

But the host added me to their email newsletter. And that really, really annoyed me! I signed up for something they were hosting, not for their work.

Now, emails don’t take up much space on our desktops, nor even our laptops. They are usually very small in size. So deleting them doesn’t really save any space.

And I’m not one of those people who deletes everything (except accidentally!), and I usually keep stuff I think I might want to refer back to someday.

But:

• It’s still a lot of stuff in my inbox, and can be distracting if I don’t have time to read them.
• Though I support everyone’s creative work, that doesn’t mean I want to hear from them every week.
• And there are people I simply don’t like, who I’d rather not hear from.
• I hesitate to unsubscribe, for the reasons I listed above. Though I know I shouldn’t get upset when some people unsubscribe from MY newsletters, it makes me hesitate to unsubscribe, even from the folks I don’t like.

So don’t put your email subscribers in this position.

I know sometimes we have to go out on a limb in order to build our email list, especially at the beginning. Every article about email newsletters suggests great ways to get people on board, telling us reaching out to friends, family, customers, studio visitors, etc.

I know it’s easy to unsubscribe, too.

I know it’s easy to ask for forgiveness rather than to ask for permission.

But there are consequences.

FASO’s email newsletter service is very ethical. Even when you add someone who’s TOLD me they want to sign up, it will still ask that person if I have that permission. Unsubscribing is clear and easy, and sometimes people will even share why they’ve made that decision.

Most of the ‘professional level’ email programs follow the same guidelines.

But when it comes to forgiveness vs. permission, go with the latter. Please.

Protect your followers’ privacy, and respect their boundaries.

Use “bcc”, and only sign up those who ASK.

As always, your shares and comments are welcome!

Link back to it here on Fine Art Views, or my blog at luannudell.wordpress.com. I repost my FAV articles on my blog, so if you have trouble leaving a comment at FAV, you can subscribe to my blog here and/or leave a comment on my blog.

If someone shared this article with you, and you’d like to read more in this series, here are all my articles at FineArtViews.com.

NEWSLETTERS (AND BLOGS) 101 #24: Share the Generosity of Others!

Natalia’s necklace

2/5/2021 by Luann Udell
This post is by Luann Udell, regular contributing author for FineArtViews. She’s blogged since 2002 about the business side–and the spiritual inside–of art. She says, “I share my experiences so you won’t have to make ALL the same mistakes I did….”  For ten years, Luann also wrote a column (“Craft Matters”) for The Crafts Report magazine (a monthly business resource for the crafts professional) where she explored the funnier side of her life in craft. She’s a double-juried member of the prestigious League of New Hampshire Craftsmen (fiber & art jewelry). Her work has appeared in books, magazines, and newspapers across the country and she is a published writer.

It’s a powerful way to honor the kindness of others.

(3 minute read)

In an earlier article, I mentioned that a friend back in New Hampshire reached out to me re: my newest series of box shrines. She had one of those beloved handmade parts storage boxes, so common on the East Coast. (Maybe other places, but that’s where I’ve spent most of my life, and that’s where I collected most of them.)

These are little boxes, usually made with scrap wood: Cheese boxes, pallets, cut up and nailed together to make tiny drawers.

She sent me a photo and asked if I’d be interested. Me? YES PLEASE.

Natalia’s little box drawers, repaired, painted, waxed.

I asked her how much $ she wanted for them, and she said they were free. Then she said shipping was free, too.

I was gob-smacked. I protested that was TOO generous. She told me I’d given her a beloved wooden horse marionette (from Bali, I think) which I’d totally forgotten about. She treasured it, and wanted to reciprocate in a way that would help me move my artwork forward.

So she sent me the little drawers, and I sent her a horse necklace as a thank-you. (See how that circle keeps on giving?)

Insights: When WE are generous, it sparks kindness and generosity in others.

When WE are the benefactors of the generosity of others, it sparks the same in US.

Caveat: Not all gifts/generosity/kindness is directly reciprocal. As a very good friend told me years ago, when we give others our love and generosity, the UNIVERSE will give it back. That is, the person we helped then, may not be the person who helps us now. Someone else may step in. (Hence, the universe/whatever higher power you have faith in.) It may not be the same person, it may not be the same kind of help, it may take a while. But accepting this wider definition of give-and-get can help overcome any resentment or sadness we may take on. It REALLY helped me during a hard time in my life, when people I thought would show up, didn’t. And people I never expected to show up, did. (Thank you, Roma!)

In this case, Natalia and I are in a circle of kindness. It doesn’t have to go on forever, of course. But this month, it was exactly what I needed, just in time.

So a shout-out to Natalia Gorwalski of Walpole, NH! We met through a mutual friend, and we all share a love of horses. Natalia owns a horse, our mutual friend rescued/adopted a horse from the riding stable I rode at, where I leased a horse. Those long, long rides we took along the Connecticut River trail, from farm to farm, were among the best times of my life. (Natalia is working on her own art project, and sent me a lovely image of her first metal horse sculpture!)

I’m sharing this because a) this is someone who helped me move (literally!) and b) has now helped me move forward with my art. People who love my work might be happy to hear that story.

And I love the opportunity to share that love with my readers.

Cheese boxes.

Shrine series, with a big thank-you to Gary Spykman for HIS generosity!

I bet YOUR audience will enjoy hearing about YOUR story of generosity, too! And sharing it in our email newsletters, on our blog, on social media platforms, will help spread the joy.

Your shares and comments are always welcomed!

Share this link FineArtViews.com or view my blog at luannudell.wordpress.com.

If someone shared this article with you, and you’d like to read more in this series, visit my articles at FineArtViews.com.

NEWSLETTERS 101 #23: Share Because You Matter

I don’t have an image of the comet wall hanging, as I made it before making digital images were even possible for me. So, a moon one instead!

1/26/2021  by Luann Udell

This post is by Luann Udell, regular contributing author for FineArtViews. She’s blogged since 2002 about the business side–and the spiritual inside–of art. She says, “I share my experiences so you won’t have to make ALL the same mistakes I did….”  For ten years, Luann also wrote a column (“Craft Matters”) for The Crafts Report magazine (a monthly business resource for the crafts professional) where she explored the funnier side of her life in craft. She’s a double-juried member of the prestigious League of New Hampshire Craftsmen (fiber & art jewelry). Her work has appeared in books, magazines, and newspapers across the country and she is a published writer.

It’s easier than ever to get our work, our spirit, our ethos, the things that matter to us, out into the world. And sharing on social media is the best way to do it.

(4 minute read)

Schedules change, deadlines move forward and back, and here I am writing today’s column before I even had a topic in mind.

But what a gift this last-minute situation has given me today!

Because I found out that a classic poem, one of my favorites since I memorized it for a high school drama class, has almost disappeared from the internet.

It was written in 1931 by Conrad Aiken, it has always resonated with me, and now it’s hard to find, except in other blogs.

It’s still in poetry books, of course. So it’s not gone gone. But for some reason, it seems to have fallen below the fold for most poetry websites.

And having something become invisible on the internet is a good lesson for me, today. And maybe for you.

I don’t have the skills to unwrap Aiken’s purpose with these words. I only know they have always rocked my soul when I read it, especially aloud. That is the power of poetry. Maybe it popped up in my head today because of Amanda Gorman’s deeply moving poem, “The Hill We Climb” at the inauguration ceremony on January 20. What I do know is this: If I hadn’t found links to personal websites republishing this poem, I may not have been able to easily share it with you today.

Which is why social media is so vital today. Why using social media to market our work is more important than ever. Why doing our best to share our own work, our art, no matter what form it takes, is so important right now.

If the only way I could share my work was in books, newspapers, and magazines it’s been published in, it would be harder for potential collectors to find it. A lot harder.

Social media isn’t the only way to find stuff (poems, people, art), of course. I could go through my collection of poetry books to find that poem. I could search through our library’s poetry collection, although that is harder now, too. The poem is certainly out there somewhere.

But it sure wasn’t easy to find it quickly, today, now, when I needed it.

So for today, here is that poem. And thank you to all the individuals and organizations (a church, a grief counseling website, blogs, etc.) who love this poem as much as I do, who decided to share it with others on social media today.

(Coincidentally, my very first stitched fiber wall hanging was inspired by the comet Hale-Bopp in 1997, and Mary Chapin Carpenter’s appropriate and beautiful “When Halley Came to Jackson” which we played in the car as we drove our two young children out into the country to see it. Yeah, it still makes me cry.)

As always, and speaking of sharing (hint, hint) if you found this article helpful, share it!

Link back to it here on Fine Art Views, or my blog at luannudell.wordpress.com.

If someone shared this article with you, and you’d like to read more in this series, here are all my articles at FineArtViews.com.

One Star Fell and Another 

One star fell and another as we walked.
Lifting his hand towards the west, he said
”How prodigal that sky is of its stars!
They fall and fall, and still the sky is sky.
Two more have gone, but heaven is heaven still.

Then let us not be precious of our thought,
Nor of our words, nor hoard them up as though
We thought our minds a heaven which might change
And lose its virtue, when the word had fallen.
Let us be prodigal, as heaven is:
Lose what we lose, and give what we may give,
Ourselves are still the same. Lost you a planet?
Is Saturn gone? Then let him take his rings
Into the Limbo of forgotten things.

O little foplings of the pride of mind,
Who wrap the phrase in lavender, and keep it
In order to display it: and you, who save our loves
As if we had not worlds of love enough!

Let us be reckless of our words and worlds,
And spend them freely as the tree his leaves;
And give them where the giving is most blest.
What should we save them for, a night of frost? …
All lost for nothing, and ourselves a ghost.”

(Conrad Aiken, 1931)

NEWSLETTERS 101 #22: Share Your Galleries

SUNSET by Luann Udell

1/22/2021 7:36:40 AM by Luann Udell
This post is by Luann Udell, regular contributing author for FineArtViews. She’s blogged since 2002 about the business side–and the spiritual inside–of art. She says, “I share my experiences so you won’t have to make ALL the same mistakes I did….”  For ten years, Luann also wrote a column (“Craft Matters”) for The Crafts Report magazine (a monthly business resource for the crafts professional) where she explored the funnier side of her life in craft. She’s a double-juried member of the prestigious League of New Hampshire Craftsmen (fiber & art jewelry). Her work has appeared in books, magazines, and newspapers across the country and she is a published writer.

Your chance to support your customers AND the small businesses that support YOU!

(4 minute read)    

 Today’s big insight for me: All these newsletter topic suggestions will also work for blog posts!

And today’s column will also be a lot shorter, because I won’t have to go into deep explanation mode on why this would be such a great topic for your email newsletters. Because it’s pretty obvious!

I wish I’d thought of this back in the day when I did wholesale fine craft shows, and my work was carried by galleries all across the country. Dang!

But it’s not too late. I still have galleries in New Hampshire, and several here in Sonoma County that carry my work. And now I can help promote them!

•  I can talk a bit about the owners/managers. Like the co-managers of the League of NH Craftsmen gallery in Littleton (except pandemic shut-downs have addled my brain that I can’t remember Beth’s partner-in-crime art! Ack!) who brought homemade chocolate chip cookies to all the craftspeople at the week-long Annual Craftsmen’s Fair who had work in their gallery. Let’s just say I was always glad to see them, not just because they are awesome people, but because homemade chocolate chip cookies!! 

•  I can share the gallery location. Not only so people know that my work is available nearby (and certainly closer than California!), but I can also share where they can stop for lunch, other cool shops nearby, sight-seeing, etc. Because usually when I made the trek to delivery new work, that’s what I did, too.

•  I can share pics of the work available. Soooooo much easier these days! Yet another gift of online marketing/social media.

•  I can share my gratitude that they’ve chosen to carry my work. Corrick’s is just one of the wonderful stores that carry my work here in Sonoma County. Corrick’s is a highly-respected family-owned biz (four generations!) here in Santa Rosa, whose history goes back generations. They are avid art-lovers in all its forms (opera!), and they are terrific supporters of the art organization that sponsors our open studio tours. (In fact, they have an entire gallery for those artists!) They offer custom framing, and quality gifts, office supplies, books, and collectibles. Their employees are stellar!

•  I can share other art forms they support. The Cloverdale Arts Alliance also hosts musical events. Sebastopol Center for the Arts also features musical and performance arts, and they host a film festival.

•  They deserve a shout–out during these difficult times. Although some people complain about “visual art exhibits” not being as engaging, and many artists complain that their sales have suffered from them, all my galleries are making tremendous efforts to support us all while also keeping us safe, often a thankless job. I consider them heroes!

•  We are “vetting” these great galleries for other artists. Galleries are always on the look-out for artists whose work would be a great fit. And both galleries and artists value our validation that these are good people to work with.

•  A prestigious gallery is good for OUR reputation, too. For years before my work became better known, people would ask me what kind of art I made. And when I described it (which was and still is hard, because it’s out-of-the-box), they’d go, “Oh, okay.” Then they’d ask what galleries I was in. I’d say, “I’m a member of the League of NH Craftsmen” and their whole attitude would change from, “Yeah, sure” to a heartfelt “Wow! Where can I see it??” (This was before smart phones, so I couldn’t easily show them my work.)

• Sharing our personal experience is seen as more ‘truthy’ than an ad. Anyone can purchase an ad, which is why most of skip over ads in newspapers and magazines. But an article is seen as having “outside validation”, and that’s the role our email newsletters play. In other words, we artists validate our galleries, for our audience.

Sharing our galleries is a win/win for everyone!

 Speaking of sharing (hint, hint) if you found this article helpful, share it!

Link back to it here on Fine Art Views, or my blog at luannudell.wordpress.com.

If someone shared this article with you, and you’d like to read more in this series, here are all my articles at FineArtViews.com. 

NEWSLETTERS 101 #21: Share Your Customer Service!

Some roadblocks to my latest Shrine Series resolved, full steam ahead!

1/12/2021 by Luann Udell
This post is by Luann Udell, regular contributing author for FineArtViews. She’s blogged since 2002 about the business side–and the spiritual inside–of art. She says, “I share my experiences so you won’t have to make ALL the same mistakes I did….”  For ten years, Luann also wrote a column (“Craft Matters”) for The Crafts Report magazine (a monthly business resource for the crafts professional) where she explored the funnier side of her life in craft. She’s a double-juried member of the prestigious League of New Hampshire Craftsmen (fiber & art jewelry). Her work has appeared in books, magazines, and newspapers across the country and she is a published writer.

How a family-run business has made me a lifelong customer!

(4 minute read)

You get a pass today. I started today’s column on a different note, getting all the details just right. Which meant, of course, that it ran on and on. Then I accidentally deleted it. So…a shorter read today!

I wanted to share a new topic idea for your email newsletters that your readers will appreciate.

A project dear to my heart has been blocked for years. I ran into a few roadblocks on a new series of box shrine. I was using a silicon construction adhesive to join the boxes. It worked until it didn’t, and I was at a loss of where to go next.

I came up with two different solutions: Mechanical connections (which was a whole nother can of worms, until I worked my way through them, too) and epoxy.

I bought a tube from a local hardware store. But it went south the first time I tried to use it, and in frustration I reached out to the company. I described what happened, asked if it were shelf-life related (yup, some glues and epoxies have a shelf-life.) And waited for a reply.

My experience with customer service regarding defective products hasn’t been good.

I fill out all the forms online, then wait weeks for a response. IF I ever even get a response. (This is my usual experience, especially from companies too big to care  very much.)

So I nearly dropped my teeth when the company care rep for J-B Weld responded the next day. In less than 24 hours. (They’re in an earlier time zone, so it was impossible for them to respond any earlier.) The rep not only responded quickly, he sent me about a dozen tubes of epoxy, fresh from their factory line. Some were the same I’d purchased, but he added a variety of others for me to experiment with. For free.

He refused my offer to pay for them. And when I followed up a few weeks later, sharing my success with some the glues, but the same issue with others, he promised to send even more glue! Even after we realized part of the problem was the temperature in my studio (it’s usually 48 degrees in the winter until my space heater gets going), he still made it his personal mission to help me get my project moving forward.

As you can imagine, I am now a life-long customer!

Why am I sharing this today?

The first reason is obvious: Good customer service is vital for any business, and small businesses often do it better than mega-businesses. As artists, we need to understand this, too. I’m not suggesting you overwhelm your collectors with free epoxy. I mean, art. But when something goes wrong, I do my best to make their experience as positive as possible. Listening carefully, sorting out the options, and making things right.

The second is just what I’m doing here: Sharing my powerfully-positive experience with you. Letting you know that, whatever your need for epoxy, this is a company who stands behind their products. They want to know if you have a problem, and they want to help you fix it.

And your experience is something you can share in your email newsletters.

A lot of artists subscribe to my blog and newsletter, and of course, to Fine Art Views. Sharing what manufacturers you can trust is a gift to them. For my collectors, they may benefit, too. But it also shows them I really get what great customer service looks like.

Sure, there will always be that rare client who we can never make happy. And I sincerely hope you don’t buy some J-B Weld epoxy just so you can complain and ask for a box of more epoxy, free.

But they reached out to me, quickly, with full support. They believe in their products, and acted accordingly.

Just as we do the best work we can, and work to fix it if something goes wrong, with our own collectors.

And that’s the third reason to share: Do we want our customers to complain about how we handled an issue? Or do we want them to sing our praises?

We can share our own story/stories about how we created the perfect experience with a customer, or we can share our own personal experience, like the one I had with J-B Weld.

So today, I’m giving a shout-out to Chris Fox at J-B Weld (thank you, Chris!), who figured out what the problem actually was, so I can move forward.

And you get yet another idea of what to share in your next email newsletter!

Your shares and comments are always welcomed!

Share this Fine Art Views article, or view more like it my blog at luannudell.wordpress.com.

If someone shared this article with you, and you’d like to read more in this series, visit my articles at FineArtViews.com.

NEWSLETTERS 101: #20 Share the BIGGEST Gift of All!

Otter’s story is a good one for 2021!

1/5/2021 by Luann Udell

This post is by Luann Udell, regular contributing author for FineArtViews. She’s blogged since 2002 about the business side–and the spiritual inside–of art. She says, “I share my experiences so you won’t have to make ALL the same mistakes I did….”  For ten years, Luann also wrote a column (“Craft Matters”) for The Crafts Report magazine (a monthly business resource for the crafts professional) where she explored the funnier side of her life in craft. She’s a double-juried member of the prestigious League of New Hampshire Craftsmen (fiber & art jewelry). Her work has appeared in books, magazines, and newspapers across the country and she is a published writer.

What a Disney movie did to lift my heart!

(8 minute read) (Spoiler alert! If you haven’t seen Soul yet, wait to read this til after you do!)

 In last week’s column, I shared why sharing a family tradition (or one we’ve modified) can show our audience our human side.

For today’s column, I thought about discussing New Year’s Resolutions (which I rarely make, and keep even less.)

But instead, I’m sharing what I realize is the greatest gift of all:

We’re here, right now. Alive!

 Enjoy every moment, and look for the tiny little miracles that are EVERYWHERE!

Sorry/Not sorry for yelling. I’ll back up a bit. This came from a lot of ‘little thoughts’ that piled up into a massive mound this past week.

A few days ago, I was thinking about how desperate we all could be about sales.

Like it or not, “sales” is a powerful desire and goal for almost all creatives. I’ve always advised against pursuing sales as the only measure of our success. (I could create an entire series with the articles where I’ve mentioned Thomas Kinkade!) But we can’t help wishing and hoping to be successful with our creative work, and strong sales are hard evidence our work is popular.

Unfortunately, as you know from how many times I’ve mentioned Vincent Van Gogh’s work, we may never truly know how others will value our work. And being famous after we’re dead is…well, a nice thing to hope for, but we’ll never know.

Exactly how did “famous artists” in the past become famous? They had collectors with the money and the means (and the beautiful spaces) to purchase and display their art. And eventually, those works made it into museums around the world, “proof positive” that these were, indeed, great works of art.

But what about the artists who didn’t have that kind of audience? At first I thought of the work that wouldn’t even make it to any market: Artists of different cultures, different races, etc., especially those deemed “primitive” in nature. Then I thought of women artists, who were—and still are—under-represented in museums, art history, and even galleries today. Soon I was a little embarrassed for wanting fame and fortune, when so many people may have never had the chance to make their work, let alone show it, let alone sell it.

Even those artists who did make the cut, what about those works of art that never survived into our times? Entire cities, cultures, etc. were destroyed by fire, war, famine, pestilence, volcanoes. Cave art wasn’t a thing until Alta Mira, a prehistoric cave full of beautiful images of animals, was discovered in 1868. Even then, it aroused no curiosity for another decade, and it was actually Maria, the 8-year-old daughter of the caves owner, nobleman Marcelino Sanz de Sautola, who discovered the beautiful artwork within. (And even then, the work was often dismissed as modern forgeries by gypsies, until more caves were discovered in the early 20th century.)

Even then, such artwork was again dismissed as “hunting magic” by modern “experts”, whose unconscious bias limited their understanding of what was right in front of them. This bias continued. Mary Cassatt was a “real artist” whose work took a long time to be classified as such. In this article, the author says she had three strikes against her, “…her gender, her foreignness (she was an American living in France), and her reputation as a painter of motherhood.”

Even if we do achieve a decent reputation, a strong audience, some good sales, does that seal our fate? Nope. I can’t find this artist for the life of me, but one session in my art history classes in college focused on an extremely successful Victorian artist, the Thomas Kinkaid of his times, whose popularity tanked soon after he died. Too sentimental, too trite, did not stand up over time. (Could it be this guy?)

In our modern times, with a changing-for-the-better consciousness that all people matter, that all people have creative talents of some kind, that we all yearn to be “seen” in the world, and especially in this year of pandemic and unrest, how do we pursue our goal of being a successful artist?

I went to bed too tired, too sad, on a dark Christmas Eve, without an answer.

Until Disney+ tossed its newest Pixar animated movie, Soul, into our lap on Christmas Day.

I’d read a review that considered it “meh”, but for some reason, it still called to me. It’s about a musician, a music teacher, who’s always dreamed of making it to the big time, who finally gets his chance…

And falls down a manhole and dies. His soul is desperate to find a way to ‘go back’, to get the opportunity to realize his dream-of-a-lifetime.

In his efforts, he crosses the path of Soul 22, who has refused all efforts to get her to live a life on earth. Her cynicism is impressive! Even the souls of Mother Theresa, Abraham Lincoln, Mahatma Gandhi, and many others can’t encourage her to even try.

After many failed attempts to not only recapture his own life, but to encourage hers, a tiny miracle happens.

Let me repeat: A tiny miracle.

I found this beautiful quote in an article about Soul today:  “Instead, Soul was left to be about the little moments that make up our lives rather than where we end up, and that’s ultimately what makes the movie resonate so well.”

My own greatest joy comes in persevering until I find a solution to whatever is blocking my way. I keep track of my progress in my notebooks and journals, capturing the tiny moments of joy and wonder I encounter in my day.

When I write my way through episodes of despair, when I find myself at the mercy of destructive, negative people, when I begin to doubt my own worth in the world, my gratitude list lifts me up again.

Those tiny moments add up!

When I make my work, I feel my purpose. It’s to share what I find beautiful in the world. To share where I’ve found meaning, solace, peace in my heart, if only for a moment. And it’s so easy to do that today! A quick photo, a caption, a few tags on Instagram, and my insights go straight to my artist-and-writer page.

I find as many ways as I can (writing for Fine Art Views, my blog, Twitter, Facebook, my email newsletter, etc.) to share what I’ve learned, what has lifted me, with others, quickly and easily. (The gifts of social media, when used as a force for good in the world!)

And you can too! Include your audience in those moments of inspiration as part of your marketing process. Sharing those moments of light, beauty, awe or sorrow will also help to connect your art with others.

Including these shares in our newsletters — whether it’s posting an image of our latest work, or writing about a flock of snowy egrets catching a random ray of sunshine, silhouetted against dark and stormy clouds, or including these moments on social media –is not only a gift to others, but a great marketing tool too.

When we make the work of our heart, we are lifted, even if just for a little bit. When we share it with others, maybe their hearts will be lifted, too. Whether they buy it, or share it with others, the ripples in the pond of life continue.

More than this, we can’t expect, nor count on.

In closing, a dear friend and I talked together on Zoom recently, soon after watching SOUL. She was struggling with her own “next steps”, what would get her to her goals, and I felt so helpless regarding advice. Fortunately, it turns out she didn’t really need advice. And she is already so many steps ahead of me!

One little (hah!) story she shared with me: She has a school history and a longtime interest in ecology, and she loves going for long walks, being immersed in nature and all its wonders.

Over time, she realized that on every walk, at some point, a tree would “wave” at her.

It could be a branch, a twig, sometimes just a single leaf. But it was independent of any noticeable wind or animal action. And she began to wave back.

Just a tiny wave, so if she weren’t walking alone, her companion wouldn’t notice.

Because who waves back at trees, right?

It hit me. There’s a powerful moment in SOUL that involves a tree. An insignificant, perfectly ordinary moment, actually less than a minute, that changes everyone. And everything. Something I’m betting every single one of us has experienced at some time in our walks and travels.

I told my friend about this moment, without giving away what it was, and encouraged her to watch the movie. She did. She cried. And she was happy again.

This year, make your art, especially if it makes you happy.

This year, share your art, because it will make others happy.

This year, pursue your goals, but don’t let them define you, or limit you in any way. Don’t worry about being “good enough”.

We are enough.

This year, live your life. Live it fully. Live it deeply. As my little animal artifact Otter told me many years ago…

“Oh, be joyful! Play! Enjoy every moment of this amazing life.”

 Oh, and this morning, I looked to see if a tree were waving at me. One did, but it was because it was full of two different flocks of birds, finches and Brewers Blackbirds. So maybe it was waving, but maybe it wasn’t.

But I waved back anyway. And somehow, I felt a little happier.

Your shares and comments are always welcomed!

Share this link FineArtViews.com or view my blog at luannudell.wordpress.com.

If someone shared this article with you, and you’d like to read more in this series, visit my articles at FineArtViews.com.

WayBack Whenever: That Small Voice Inside

Oh, dear. My intentions to republish some of my old RadioUserland blog posts seem to have fallen by the wayside….

No matter. When I run across one that still speaks to/for me, I’ll reprint ’em here. (And most of them do!) (Also, thanks to Karyl Shields, who alerted me that the links don’t go to the right content any longer. Fixed! Darn you, Internet!)

Still following that “little idea” and I’m finally making some progress!

Monday, March 28, 2005

THAT SMALL VOICE INSIDE Amy Peters, silver jeweler to the stars and Queen of self-promotion, posted a fascinating link on a forum today called “Marketing for Introverts.” I can’t find the article but her book can be found here: Self-Promotion for Introverts. Nancy Ancowitz’s insights provided very manageable steps we can take to promote ourselves and our work, and I highly recommend her article. While poking around her site, I found an article she was interviewed for that also caught my attention. It’s called “To Find A Path, Just Follow That Little Hint” by Patricia Kitchen: Why did this article appeal to me so much? Because a journey begins with having a place to go. And if you don’t know where to go, how do you take that first step? Kitchen’s premise is, most people wait for a “bolt from the blue” to indicate where our true heart’s desire lies. But it usually doesn’t happen that way. Instead, she says, we have to pay attention to that tiny little hint of something that captures our interest. And follow it. As adults, we often find we’ve lost or muffled the instinct to follow our hearts. We don’t have the time or energy to try new things, or pursue a glimmer of an interest. We lose faith in our abilities and strengths, we forget our gifts. Last week I invited a friend to a free self-defense workshop at the martial arts studio where I study kick-boxing. I asked her on a whim, thinking it would be fun for both of us. “Oh no,” she said, “I wouldn’t be any good at that!” I was baffled. Why would you have to be good at something to try it out? Heaven knows I have no “knack” for marial arts. And who would expect you to be good at self-defense without learning or practicing it?? But I understood the mindset. It’s that fear of NOT being good at something, the fear of embarrassing yourself in front of others, the fear of making a mistake. It’s the fear of being caught doing something foolish, or the fear looking stupid. It can be the fear of not getting your money’s worth or the fear of wasting time. It can be as awful as the fear of finding out you are NOT talented, or special, or capable of being better. That’s why it’s so important to “follow that hint” of something interesting, new and fun. Why it’s so important to allow yourself the teensiest little opportunity to try something different. Why it’s so important to simply be open to something that piques your interest. And why it’s so important to listen to that quiet voice within yourself that says “why not?” Because who knows where that could lead you? Kitchen ends by stressing that you must take active steps to pursue that hint. Otherwise, it stays a dream and never becomes your reality. Tiny hints…small voice…and daily little steps. All adding up to a big dream come true.

NEWSLETTERS 101: #19 Share a Family Tradition!

I did get a LITTLE work done in my studio today. Found the perfect bear for my newest restored-box shrine!

12/29/2020  by Luann Udell
This post is by Luann Udell, regular contributing author for FineArtViews. She’s blogged since 2002 about the business side–and the spiritual inside–of art. She says, “I share my experiences so you won’t have to make ALL the same mistakes I did….”  For ten years, Luann also wrote a column (“Craft Matters”) for The Crafts Report magazine (a monthly business resource for the crafts professional) where she explored the funnier side of her life in craft. She’s a double-juried member of the prestigious League of New Hampshire Craftsmen (fiber & art jewelry). Her work has appeared in books, magazines, and newspapers across the country and she is a published writer.

The little things we take for granted may lift the hearts and spirits of others!

It’s been a funky day-before-Christmas, to be sure.

My partner and I are in the middle of a huge spat. (No worries, we’ve been doing this for decades. Neighborhood friends nicknamed us “The Bickersons” almost 40 years ago!)

I finally pulled out and went to my studio, my always-happy place. Twenty minutes later, I got a call from Jon. He’d left his wallet at the supermarket, could I drive him there to get it? (No driver’s license.) No luck. But when we got home, ready to call and cancel all our credit cards, he found his wallet. On his dresser.

Grumbling, I drove back to my studio. But I could only get a little work done before the cold and the dark got to me, and so I headed home again.

I’m sitting here, trying to think about why this hardly even seems like Christmas. Aha! Covid-19! No parties. No Yankee Swap, our biggest, most memorable Christmas event. Our Christmas tree was so last-minute this year. I wasn’t even going to get one, but Jon wanted a tree, so I got a tiny one. Then I couldn’t find my ornaments. It’s decorated with some small thrift shop finds, cat toys, a box of Christmas cards I found at the thrift shop (puppies in Santa hats) and colorful fabric masks….

Okay, so this will be a Christmas-to-remember-for-all-the-wrong-reasons. On the other hand, it inspired this article, so here goes!

All through my childhood, I wanted to open a present on Christmas Eve. It was a hard NO growing up. So guess what Christmas tradition I started with OUR family?

Yup. We all got to pick one present to open on Christmas Eve! It was great!

My husband’s father was Jewish, his mother was Catholic. Actual religious practices were few and far between, but our daughter is none-the-less very proud of her Jewish heritage. So I bought her a dinosaur menorah I found on Etsy a few years go. She loves it!

No Yankee Swap. In past years, this was quite the occasion. Everyone brings an unwanted gift, a White Elephant, (undamaged, not used, etc.) wrapped and beribboned, and placed it under the tree. Then everyone picks a number from a hat/bowl/bag. #1 person picks a gift and unwraps it. #2 person picks a gift, then gets to choose whether to a) keep it, or b) swap with person #1. #3 person does the same, only they can swap with anyone who already has a present. Obviously, the best number to get is the last one! And it’s amazing how someone’s White Elephant is exactly what someone else will love.

It’s also good for everyone to have plenty of Gary Spykman’s handmade “spoonable eggnog” (recipe at the end) because sometimes fights break out. (Well, not FIGHTS, exactly, but just sayin’, don’t get too attached to your gift!

And of course, my Grandma Paxton’s yummy iced brown sugar Christmas cookies. They are the best!

In another family we’ve known for years, everyone gets new pajamas, and wears them on Christmas Day. (I can’t remember if they were matching pajamas??)

A friend told me how their family would go to movies on Christmas Day. (Movies! In a movie theater!)

Why would you share this in your newsletter?

Because regardless of religion, region, etc., holidays are a time for family-and-friend gatherings. In the best of circumstances, there are plenty of laughs and hugs, joy and eggnog (LOTS of eggnog, and don’t forget the brandy!) Being human, there might also be lots of spats and tantrums, sadness and envy, some disappointment (DO NOT GET YOUR PARTNER A VACUUM CLEANER FOR CHRISTMAS!).

There are loved ones who will be missed, for this year, or, sadly, forever.

Family traditions can be sweet. Simple. Complex and frustrating. Unusual. Fun. Embarrassing. (Mistletoe? No thank you!) Informal. Or scheduled down to the last minute.

Sharing a family tradition in our marketing newsletters allows our audience a little peek into our life, outside of the art we make. It reminds us that we are connected in all the subtleties of being human…and that we are not alone.

Of course, we can also share a funny pet story, or a beautiful sunset, or a moment of insight, as I’ve suggested in this series.

But if you get a kick out of our Yankee Swap party, or fall in love with Gary’s eggnog, or find a new passion with my Grandma’s cookie recipe (which I’ll post on my blog), imagine how YOUR audience will feel!

SPOONABLE EGGNOG BY GARY SPYKMAN (Note: If the name sounds familiar, Gary is the person who taught me how to clean, repair, and restore antique and vintage wood boxes for my Shrine Series, and offered me the use of his studio, his toolks, and his expertise to make them! You can see his work at his website:  Spykman Design

This will put a little (or a lot of) Christmas Spirit(s) in you! Thick, rich, potent… irresistible!

4 eggs, separated
2 cups heavy cream (whipping cream)
1/2 cup sugar
1/8 tsp. salt
1/2 cup top-shelf rum or bourbon (really, the good stuff)
1/4 cup brandy
whole nutmeg

You’ll need three mixing bowls for this.
Bowl #1: Beat egg whites until stiff.
Bowl #2: Beat egg yolks, sugar, and salt until thick and lemon-colored, stir in the booze.
Bowl #3: Whip the cream.
Gently fold the egg yolk mixture into the whipped cream, then fold in the egg whites.
Chill for an hour or two.
Scoop into individual cups, grate fresh nutmeg over the top, and serve with spoons.

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GRANDMA PAXTON’S CHRISTMAS COOKIES

1 1/2 c. brown sugar

1 c. butter

2 eggs

4 TBS. sour milk (you can add a teensy bit of vinegar to get it ‘sour’)

1 tsp. baking soda

1 tsp. baking powder

1/2 tsp. salt

1 tsp. vanilla

4 c. flour

Preheat oven at 350 degrees

Cream butter and sugar.

Add eggs and vanilla.

Combine dry ingredients. Add alternately with milk.

Roll and cut cookies on a lightly-floured surface. (Keep your rolling pin lightly-floured, too!)

Bake about 10-12 minutes, until lightly browned.

FROSTING

Beat 2 egg whites till fluffy. (My recipe says you may need to add cream of tartar, but I’m not sure why…?)

Add enough powdered sugar to make stiff frosting.

Spread on cookies and decorate!

****************************************************

Your shares and comments are always welcomed!

Copy this link FineArtViews.com to share, or view my blog at luannudell.wordpress.com.

If someone shared this article with you, and you’d like to read more in this series, visit my articles at FineArtViews.com.

NEWSLETTERS 101 #18: Love (and Art) in the Time of Covid-19

Bear tells me, “Be strong when things get hard. Listen more. Think slow. Love deep.” Perfect advice for 2021!

12/22/2020 by Luann Udell
This post is by Luann Udell, regular contributing author for FineArtViews. She’s blogged since 2002 about the business side–and the spiritual inside–of art. She says, “I share my experiences so you won’t have to make ALL the same mistakes I did….”  For ten years, Luann also wrote a column (“Craft Matters”) for The Crafts Report magazine (a monthly business resource for the crafts professional) where she explored the funnier side of her life in craft. She’s a double-juried member of the prestigious League of New Hampshire Craftsmen (fiber & art jewelry). Her work has appeared in books, magazines, and newspapers across the country and she is a published writer.

There’s no perfect way to get through 2020 and beyond. So just do what works for YOU! 

(8 minute read)

I’ve never sought out positions on boards or steering committees, despite being involved with quite a few art organizations in my life.

I don’t have a “head” for leadership. I hate bossing people around. I mean, I love having my own way, but when I think I know what’s best for others, I fail miserably.

But over the years, I have volunteered for many these same orgs. Oh, I’ll complain along with everyone else about rules and regulations, how things are done, etc. But then I realize that the best way to find out the WHY is to join that committee, and learn.

I love peeking behind the curtain to see what’s going on!

It’s tempered my entire approach about shows, galleries, art groups, organizations, etc. And it also gives me a new perspective about the people who complain, but never take the time to find out WHY.

 My all-time favorite was sitting next to another fine craftsperson at a gathering during a major show, and listening to them complain non-stop about the committee I served on. After addressing almost all of their complaints, with the stories behind the decisions, I said, “Hey, you should join us, maybe you have some great suggestions for us!” (I said this with a straight face, too.)

They said, “How much do they pay you to serve?”

I nearly died laughing.

Apparently, it had never occurred to them that committees in art organizations are rarely, if ever, compensated for the dozens, or even hundreds of hours they put in, as a volunteer.

This year, despite my misgivings, I did join as a member of a steering committee. I’ve been given a relatively-easy committee to head, one that I actually might be okay with.

It was eye-opening on so many levels.

First, I was truly impressed by the quality of work this group does to pull off some pretty major events here in Northern California. I couldn’t believe all the details, permutations, roles these people played, how well they remembered every step of the process, and how quickly they reviewed and updated them.

Me? I forgot this article was due yesterday.

 I couldn’t help wondering what I brought to the table, if anything.

I soon found out. I had to take part in a phone tree to make sure artists had gotten the invitation to participate in our next event, an open studio tour mid-year, in 2021.

I hate making phone calls. I don’t even call friends or family members. (I just found out this year this is a major sign that I am an introvert at heart, though I can fake extrovert for short periods.)

I didn’t know what to expect, but I got the whole gamut of responses.

This year’s event had been cancelled shortly before it took place, due to (duh) Covid-19. Every effort was made to offer refunds for those who opted out, and a lot of planning and work went into making it a virtual event. An entirely new website was created, the event was pushed back and combined with a similar event. I was asked to volunteer with that, and put in easily 50 hours of work.

I made zero sales. I did two more virtual events that same month, and they all tanked for me.

Many of the artists I called had had the same experience (without the volunteer time.) Some accepted the new normal going forward. Some weren’t sure if they were willing to commit. And a few were quite angry over how this year’s event (that was cancelled) was handled.

I get it. I really do. And yet…

I chose to look at the gifts instead of the loss.

 Years ago, I did some major wholesale and retail high-end craft shows on the East Coast. I knew I had to put in a few years for each one before they would pay off.

But first came 9/11. Sales tanked for everyone. And every year after that, it seemed like a couple months before that show, we would invade some country in the Mid-East. I barely paid for my expenses. My last year, all three major wholesale shows tanked and I was in debt up to my eyeballs.

It was hard. But I learned so much.

I learned that there is no guaranteed success with any business venture we undertake. Even my writing, which used to bring in $300-$450/per article, tanked. I now make about 10% of that, and most of those opportunities have disappeared anyway.

I learned it takes time to build an audience, even in “normal” times. My very first open studio in New Hampshire, with a prestigious art group, I had zero visitors. The second year I had one, a nice young man who was very stoned. We had a very nice chat. I hope he remembers that! The third year, my studio was packed every day, and I made about a third of my income from one event.

I learned that an event with a catalog costs a lot of money. In those days, before the internet became a key component of my marketing, I would place ads in magazines associated with those events. It cost a minimum of $350 for one quarter-page ad, in a magazine that had a shelf life on 1-4 weeks.

So when I learned that a catalog accompanied my participation in this event, for the same money, a ‘magazine’ with a shelf life of a YEAR, I considered it a bargain.

 A great show/event catalog is worth its weight in gold.

 I’ve also learned that when we pay our fees, that money is used almost instantly to pay for all the resources: Design work for website modifications and ads and the catalogs, salaries (salaries for non-profits are usually at below-market rates compared to commercial businesses), etc. When an event is cancelled, the org does not get that money back. Design costs alone for this year’s catalog were almost $10,000, not including printing.

Our org has learned what works and what doesn’t with this process. Everyone involved has worked really, really hard to not only keep the organization going (which supports so many different kinds of creative work), but to improve the experience for its artist members.

And here we are today, at Fine Art Views, which dedicated all its efforts towards assisting us with the “new normal” and focusing on social media marketing.

It can work. For one thing, I had an uptick in sales in August, a very nice uptick. I couldn’t figure out where they came from, as none of them came through any of the online events. All of them came from my Etsy shop. Finally, I realized they were from my audience in NH! I haven’t been back in person to do the show. But since the entire show was virtual this year, I was at the same “level” as everyone else. I am so grateful to the League of NH Craftsmen!

In short (I know, it’s too late to make this short!) things are different. “Sure things” aren’t solid right now. Sales are off, it’s hard to connect with people/customers in person, and we all hate the loss of paying customers, and hate not knowing how, or when this will all get better.

But in a way, my life as a creative has ALWAYS been all over the map.

I’m grateful these art orgs are trying to stay in place, so they can be a support and outlet for us. I’m in awe at the people who work so hard to keep us moving forward, from a non-profit’s show committee, to the team at FASO.

I’m grateful I have an online shop, my own website, and system for marketing my art online.

I’m proud to be contributing to the safety of our country and part of a culture that values customer safety over profits.

I know if I can’t sell my work, 10,000 years from now, archeologists will have a blast when they unearth my studio.

I feel lucky that I still have a studio to go to, especially during these dark cold winter months.

And I am grateful that I can still make my work, because it brings me joy when I finish my latest projects.

As I shared some of these insights I’ve had over the years, many people softened re: their anger, their fear, their uncertainty. (That, or I bored them to tears and they said they’d consider joining just to get me off the phone!)

What are YOUR tiny blessings you’ve found in the moment? What have YOU learned in a lifetime of making your art? Doing shows? Sharing your art with the world?

What have YOU done to show your appreciation for what others have done for you, and for your passion for making art?

What are YOUR hopes and dreams for 2021?

If you enjoyed this article, if you enjoyed this article, share it! Link back to it here on Fine Art Views, or my blog at luannudell.wordpress.com.

If someone shared this article with you, and you’d like to read more in this series, visit my articles at FineArtViews.com. 

NEWSLETTERS 101 #17: Share an “Aha!” Moment

My biggest “aha” moment was what put me on the path to becoming a “real” artist. Still powerful. Still works.

12/15/2020 by Luann Udell

This post is by Luann Udell, regular contributing author for FineArtViews. She’s blogged since 2002 about the business side–and the spiritual inside–of art. She says, “I share my experiences so you won’t have to make ALL the same mistakes I did….”  For ten years, Luann also wrote a column (“Craft Matters”) for The Crafts Report magazine (a monthly business resource for the crafts professional) where she explored the funnier side of her life in craft. She’s a double-juried member of the prestigious League of New Hampshire Craftsmen (fiber & art jewelry). Her work has appeared in books, magazines, and newspapers across the country and she is a published writer.

Was there a moment when everything changed for you? Share it!

(4 minute read)

One of the taglines in my Fine Art Views (and elsewhere) is this:

“I share my experiences so you won’t have to make ALL the same mistakes I did….”

Yep, I’m hoping it made you laugh a little. But I am also here to reassure you, that when we have our own “aha!” moment, aka “the Eureka effect”, that miraculous gift of insight where we see what’s really going on, what the solution is, how to move forward from a stuck place, it’s good to share it.

It may be just what someone else needs to get out of a hole today.

Here’s one of my favorites I love to share. It’s about fear. How fear can dominate our lives, inside and out. How it can paralyze us.

And ironically, how shallow it can really be. (Yes, pun intended!)

This story is over 15 years old, and the fear I described was already almost 15 years old. If my husband hadn’t cajoled me to take a dip in the lake on that hot summer day, I might still be holding that fear in my heart.

My intention in sharing this story was to encourage others who are in the same boat. Paralyzed with fear, palpable fear. Impossible to ignore. Only “diving in” (figuratively and literally!) helped me get to the bottom of that scary lake. (Again, pun intended.)

As I linked to the Dublin Lake story, I found another related story in the sidebar, entitled “Breakthrough”. Here is where a bunch of fears, and one random comment, came together into one beautiful solution.

Now my latest insight, that came from revisiting my old blog, today:

Radio Userland was an early blog hosting site (now-defunc) site. I wrote on it from 2002 to mid-2007. (I couldn’t even access it for ages after I left, until my techie husband recoded all the urls into something I could get to easily.) (Thank you, sweetie/love of my life!)

In five years, I got maybe three comments. THREE.

Was it because I was a terrible writer? Or an uninteresting writer? I’ll leave that for you to decide! But I do know the platform had its drawbacks, for me.

It was hard to comment. I don’t even know if I could have responded to those comments. I had no way of knowing how many people visited my blog. I never thought to ask the ones that did, to share it with others.

So: No comments. No likes. No way to measure “hits”. No way to know if anyone ever even read anything. No way to know if what I wrote, helped someone else.

And yet, I wrote. I process hard places in my life, through writing. So I wrote for myself, first. I love having had all those ‘lessons learned’, insights, and free advice.

I love it when I come across them again.

Because I still need them.

As a good friend said a few years ago, “I love all my life lessons! I love them so much, I learn them again, and again, and again.”

And when I share them with the world? Priceless. As in, “free” because you get to read them here at no cost to you.

And “priceless” as in “powerful”, as in “if it helped me, and when I shared it, it helped you, then that has incredible, endless value.”

Is it coincidence that I had this realization so soon after last week’s article, on how the numbers ultimately don’t matter?

I don’t think so.

So consider sharing an insight that helped you move forward in life. An insight that helped you find your way in the dark, towards the light, and a mug of hot milk.

If it helps even one of your subscribers do the same, well, that’s pretty cool.

One suggestion: Stick with the positive, or at least end on a positive note. Not all life experiences are good ones. But when we learn something fundamental, something beautiful because of them, that inspires hope.

Of course it okay to share something we’re struggling with right now, too: Health issues, difficult life events, etc. Believe me, if you’re going through something really hard, someone else out there is, too.

And it’s okay to just gritch now and then. (That’s a word from an old high school friend, a blend of “gripe” and “bitch”, and I love it almost as much as “blort”.) In fact, it might be an opportunity for readers to make suggestions or express sympathy, which may or may not help.

But just knowing they care can mean a lot to us, too.

But don’t be too much of a Debbie/Danny Downer, either. Yeah, we all have our moments, but we also all have enough on our plates.

What is one of YOUR favorite “aha!” moments? Try it out on us, in the comments!

If you enjoyed this article, if you enjoyed this article, share it! Link back to it here on Fine Art Views, or my blog at luannudell.wordpress.com.

If someone shared this article with you, and you’d like to read more in this series, visit my articles at FineArtViews.com.

NEWSLETTERS 101 #16: The Numbers Don’t Matter!

If I measured my success by how fast my work sold, I would be at zero. One of my best pieces didn’t sell until the month before we left for Cali.

12/8/2020 by Luann Udell

This post is by Luann Udell, regular contributing author for FineArtViews. She’s blogged since 2002 about the business side–and the spiritual inside–of art. She says, “I share my experiences so you won’t have to make ALL the same mistakes I did….”  For ten years, Luann also wrote a column (“Craft Matters”) for The Crafts Report magazine (a monthly business resource for the crafts professional) where she explored the funnier side of her life in craft. She’s a double-juried member of the prestigious League of New Hampshire Craftsmen (fiber & art jewelry). Her work has appeared in books, magazines, and newspapers across the country and she is a published writer.

Do what you love, share what you want, and put down the measuring stick.

(4 minute read)

 In last week’s Fine Art Views article about possible newsletter topics (sharing our resources), I mentioned Thea Fiore-Bloom, PhD’s website, which is where that idea came from.

I ran the article by Thea first, to make sure I got it right. She mentioned she was inspired to create a resource page by another artist, Sara Paxton, whose most popular post was about how to speed up the drying time for oil paints. Which is logical and inspiring, right?

But my most popular post was about repairing a huge chip in my spongeware bowl with polymer clay.

And Quinn McDonald, a highly-respected artist/writer/life coach/corporate trainer? Her most popular post was about how to cook steel cut oats faster in the morning.

Irony: Last week’s post also had one comment. One. Comment.

But then I had more than half a dozen responses, from people who a) subscribe to my blog, where I republish my FAV articles; and b) got my newsletter referencing that article, with a link to my blog.

That number of responses is new for me, in a good way. My subscriber numbers are big-ish, but nowhere near “influencer” levels.

Until Thea told me THE NEXT DAY that her website visitors hit almost 1,000, resulting in a ton of new subscribers to her blog. She made a guestimate about the number of people who’d probably READ my article/blog/newsletter, but didn’t ‘respond’, and estimated I am truly at those ‘influencer’ levels. Which is….stunning.

The moral of this story is, numbers are everything. And…nothing.

 Sometimes our ‘most popular’ numbers can reflect our true audience.

Or they can have nothing to do with our true audience. (Trust me, Quinn has given the world huge gifts over the years, and cooking steel cut oats is not her greatest legacy. Not in my book!)

Sometimes our numbers can seem so abysmally low, we question our own worth.

And 24 hours later, we see the actual impact we have in the world.

Or not. As I’ve said so many times in my articles, we do the work of our heart because it matters to us.

Then we put it out into the world, whether by selling, teaching, or sharing on social media. This is the proverbial toss-a-pebble-into-the-pond, not knowing where, nor how far, the ripples will go.

Money is lovely (yum!) and numbers can be reassuring. But they are not the only measure of our success, with our art, with our influence, with our lives.

Case in point: There’s one reason I now love to attend memorial services for those who have passed on.

It’s the stories people share about that person.

 A funeral service draws people from every stage and arena of our life: Family, relatives, groups (neighbors, co-workers, customers, fellow church members, etc.) If they’re well-known, or even famous, even people who never knew them in person, may have a story.

And when they share their memories and stories, we have a peek into a life we never fully knew, or appreciated, or understood. We see moments of kindness, generosity, humor, and grace.

Even then, we still won’t know the whole story.

 Because…that’s life. Even we can’t see our whole story.

 When we rely on pure metrics, it can muddy the story.

 In fact, when I looked up metrics, I found this:

met·rics  /’metriks/

noun 

1.     the use or study of poetic meters; prosody

2.     a method of measuring something, or the results obtained from this.

Do you see it?

The first definition is a form of art.

How do we measure our art?

How do we measure our worth? Our life?

How do we measure the impact we’ve had on others? Whether the good we do outweighs the mistakes we’ve made, the hurt we’ve caused, the things we’ve left undone and the things we ought NOT to have done?

We can’t.

We can only do our best, with all our heart, and let the rest go. Make amends as we can. Try to better. Help others do better.

Social media and social media marketing has been a game-changer, especially during this pandemic. It allows us to stay connected, and create connection, despite everything.

But how we measure our ‘success’ with that, is another matter altogether.

If you enjoyed this article, if you enjoyed this article, share it! Link back to it here on Fine Art Views, or my blog at luannudell.wordpress.com.

If someone shared this article with you, and you’d like to read more in this series, visit my articles at FineArtViews.com.

NEWSLETTERS 101 #15: Share Your Resources!

I’m sharing this for all my studio visitors over the years who ask me if I actually work in my studio space. Mmmmm, yup!

12/1/2020 by Luann Udell
This post is by Luann Udell, regular contributing author for FineArtViews. She’s blogged since 2002 about the business side–and the spiritual inside–of art. She says, “I share my experiences so you won’t have to make ALL the same mistakes I did….”  For ten years, Luann also wrote a column (“Craft Matters”) for The Crafts Report magazine (a monthly business resource for the crafts professional) where she explored the funnier side of her life in craft. She’s a double-juried member of the prestigious League of New Hampshire Craftsmen (fiber & art jewelry). Her work has appeared in books, magazines, and newspapers across the country and she is a published writer.

Help your readers take a step forward, just like someone did for YOU.

(4 minute read)

 In last week’s Fine Art Views article, I wrote how the gift of laughter is a precious commodity in our world right now, and how easy it is to share. This week, let’s talk about sharing what’s helped US move forward, in our art and in our lives.

Today, let me share another writer/artist from the FAV team, Thea Fiore-Bloom, PhD, creator of The Charmed Studio blog. I first met Thea through her Fine Art Views columns. (Actually, Thea just reminded me that our paths crossed years ago, before either of us wrote for FAV! Thank you for the memory reboot, Thea!) I found articles both endearing and powerful. She gets right to the heart of what she writes about, and all of it is geared to helping artists and writers get better at writing/making.

But what really blew my mind was her website.

It’s not just filled with generous helpings of articles, offering insights for creatives.  She also shares links to websites and articles she’s found to be game-changers. She’s opened a window on how we can create more powerful and connect-able blog posts and newsletters. (Disclaimer: I just found out I’m on her resource page! Thank you, Thea!)

The generosity of this, Thea sharing what’s worked for her, is a game-changer in and of itself.

I’ve written blog posts of how-to’s in the past. Some of them I published, others languish in the sea of forgotten ideas. But after discovering who Thea is at heart—authentic and generous—I find I now want to follow her example.

I’ve given little ‘peeks’ into my process from time to time. Lately, I’ve gone a little deeper. On Instagram (which reposts to my Facebook biz page, Luann Udell, Artist and Writer, I’ve shared more of my process (restoring vintage and antique wood boxes for my shrine series). A reader messaged me, asking me for my sources for these boxes, and I wrote a reply that will probably become a future blog post.

Why have I hesitated to do this in the past? Perhaps it’s the fear we all have, that someone will snag our ideas and make them their own. That someone will take our process and do it even better. That someone will gain more fame and fortune than we do.

But isn’t that what I’ve done? (Albeit on a good level of integrity.)

I did not invent my faux ivory technique. Tory Hughes, who unfortunately died in 2018, was a pioneer in exploring and creating imitative techniques with polymer clay: Faux ivory, turquoise, amber, coral, etc. Yes, I’ve made my own adaptations and created some of my own as well. I’ve taken it to a new, very personal level, too.

But I have always acknowledged Tory as my first inspiration and as a great resource for information. Now I’m realizing it might be even more inspirational to create my own Resources Page, to honor her memory, and those of others who have helped me ‘up my game’ over the years.

Also, in my humble experience, it’s really hard to exactly copy another person’s techniques. And it’s almost impossible to copy another creative’s story. Our energy is better spent on our work, and the knowledge that a copycat can’t create new ideas like we can. They can only follow, and therefore, will always be a step behind.

To reiterate: This isn’t about ‘having to share’ our ‘how’.

It’s about sharing what helped us get to where we are, today, through inspiration, clarity, insights, and okay, a couple trade secrets here and there, and/or acknowledging where we got OUR trade secrets from, especially if they’re actually public knowledge. Share a teacher, a class, an art organization, where we grew our own skills. Share the writing that inspired us, and kept us moving forward until we got where we are today—or will be tomorrow.

Be a big-hearted person like Thea. Share what makes you, YOU.

 Your words may help another creative person move forward with THEIR work, and bring light, and good, and joy into the world. What a beautiful gift!

If you enjoyed this article, share it! Link back to it here on Fine Art Views, or my blog at luannudell.wordpress.com.

If someone shared this article with you, and you’d like to read more in this series, visit my articles at FineArtViews.com.

And if you decide I would be a good fit for YOUR resource page/next newsletter, go for it!

STORMY WEATHER (A Wayback Friday)

This is one of my all-time favorite blog posts, originally published on March 8, 2005. So many powerful memories! Bunster (who we found the perfect re-home for when we left New Hampshire, figuring a 12-year-old bunny would not travel well in a car with two dogs.) My daughter Robin, who wrote a poem for Lee.  Lee Filamonov, who died a few years later after I wrote this, a talented artist who lived with extreme mental health issues most of his life. Blizzards! And of course, the lessons learned along the way.

Enjoy!

My adorable Bunster, who was as feisty and bold as a cat!

STORMY WEATHER

I just found out another huge snowstorm is on its way. Tension is in the air. Snowstorms are “the New Hampshire way” here, more nuisance than anything. Schedules upended, plans unmade, no milk in the fridge. But secretly, I love it–the way you are forced to abandon the world’s demands, the way you have to hunker down with family and a good book and simply be at home.

Today my friend Lee visited me in my studio and we talked about art. I told him some of the fierce upheaval I’ve been feeling in my life lately. “I feel like I’m suddenly surrounded by people who want me to believe they are who they SAY they are. But I see what they DO, and I cannot believe them anymore.” I struggled on for a bit and finally, for lack of words, exclaimed, “I’m surrounded by liars!”

“Hell!” he said, “I have to LIVE with them!”

Point taken. At least I do not have to live with liars, and that’s a blessing.

I printed out a lovely poem my daughter has written about him, and gave it to him:

The Artist

I came to this country

in a year with no real numbers.

I wore my fur hat with pride.

I may have lost my teeth,

but never my dignity.

I have visitors here sometimes,

but they don’t come by

as often as they used to.

So I sit here, sketching

kaleidoscopic Russian princesses

with noble features and

holy backgrounds.

I paint red, for the Revolution.

And I use dead glass

to represent my own mind.

I walk in the cemetery,

feeding to squirrels the nuts

I can’t chew.

I write on the walls, and

they have threatened to paint over them,

but I know they won’t.

Everything I am, and ever have been

is on those walls.

Especially the shards of

glass.

By Robin Udell

Lee is so moved that he gives me a beautiful painting of his sister to give to Robin.

As we talk, I show him the book I’ve been rereading, “Art and Fear”. He grew impatient. “There are a million books written about art, and I’ve read them all. They will lose you in the woods. They are like a box of chocolates with one poisoned truffle. You eat them and eat them and they taste so good—but that poisoned one—watch out! It will get you! Quit reading them!”

But this one is different, I protest. It’s reassuring me about my fear.

“Quit reading about the fear!” he exclaimed. “Be ordinary! You are creative—make your art!” He bent over to stroke Bunster, and his voice became gentle again. “Be like your bunny. She’s fearful—but she has a place in this world…”

His words stunned me, weaving (as they always seem to) together a myriad loose strands in my life.

Months before in kickboxing, I was struggling with the moves. Too many injuries, too much weight. I’d jokingly suggested that my “animal hero” was the guinea pig—nervous and fearful, easily drop-kicked, chubby body with short legs and not able to jump very high—but I could NIBBLE my enemies to death. It got the laugh I was seeking and the tension relief I needed. My work-out partner and I have been mouthing “Be the guinea pig!” to each other when things get tough….

But I’ve been frustrated, too. I’ve now studied martial arts for over five years and constantly feel the limitations of my studies—both physical, and spiritual. I’m more afraid than ever in both arenas of my life. I’ve wondered if I’ve reached the limits of what this discipline can offer me.

Am I quitting if I give up? Will I find anything to replace it—the excitement, the challenge, the workout, the mental benefits?

And yet, in other ways, it’s not enough, and I’m through being patient, waiting for this ancient art to catch up to MY needs, as a woman and an artist in this dangerous world. I’m tired of learning how to square off for a fight in a bar. That’s not the scenerio where harm will come from.

So, if it’s too much and yet not nearly enough….What else could there be?

In the space of a few hours, I HAVE found other options. Suffice to say, small miracles have occurred. Other teachers, other opportunities have come forward. Permission. Acceptance. And perseverance.

Above all, indomitable spirit.

I am astonished at what has appeared in my life, so suddenly, so quietly, like the first few snowflakes of a winter storm.

APOLLO 13, FREE ADVICE, AND YOU: What a Failed Moon Landing Mission Can Teach Us During These Hard Times

What a Failed Moon Landing Mission Can Teach Us During These Hard Times.

APOLLO 13, FREE ADVICE, AND YOU

11/17/2020 by Luann Udell

Topics: art marketing | FineArtViews | Luann Udell

This post is by Luann Udell, regular contributing author for FineArtViews. She’s blogged since 2002 about the business side–and the spiritual inside–of art. She says, “I share my experiences so you won’t have to make ALL the same mistakes I did….”  For ten years, Luann also wrote a column (“Craft Matters”) for The Crafts Report magazine (a monthly business resource for the crafts professional) where she explored the funnier side of her life in craft. She’s a double-juried member of the prestigious League of New Hampshire Craftsmen (fiber & art jewelry). Her work has appeared in books, magazines, and newspapers across the country and she is a published writer.

What a Failed Moon Landing Mission Can Teach Us During These Hard Times.

 (5 minute read)

 We interrupt this series Newsletters 101 for this public service announcement…

 All Fine Art Views writers have been encouraged to focus on online marketing/social media marketing during the pandemic. It gets harder to keep that up as time goes on. I’m weary of it, and I’m sure you are, too.

This week, I struggled to think of a fresh idea for a column.

So here we are in a situation that has not happened since the Spanish Flu, more than 100 years ago. It has changed everything, worldwide. Everyone on this planet has been affected, some more harshly than others, for many different reasons.

For artists, that means virtual events instead of gallery shows, open studios, or art fairs. For many of us, it means not even being able to go to the studio. Sales have fallen drastically. And there’s no end in sight, yet.

Yesterday, for some reason I can’t even remember, I paged through my daily schedule/to-do list notebook. On September 7, I’d written a few thoughts from one of my favorite advice columnists, Carolyn Hax in the Washington Post newspaper. (I think I must have gone on a Hax spree through the archives, because the mention of Apollo 13 was actually from her April 4, 2017 column.)

In discussing how good marriages aren’t about a perfect fit, but are about couples working with what they’ve got, Hax said this:

“In a memorable part of (the movie) “Apollo 13,” engineers have to build a carbon-dioxide filter with only material (the astronauts have) on hand. That applies to marriage, too: Understand what you need, see what you actually have, then try to build something that works.”

Let me repeat that:

Understand what you need. See what you actually have. Try to build something that works.

Bingo!

What do we need right now?

What we need is connection with our audience. Yes, we want sales, too. But that comes from the connection, right?

What do we actually have?

Let’s see…. Open studios? Nope. Gallery shows? Nope. Art fairs? Nope.

What’s left?

Social media.

 Facebook. Instagram. Email. Our websites. Virtual events.

This is why we’ve been asked to focus on social media insights for you. It’s all we got!

So what can we do with it? What can we build that will work?

 We can create a website.

We can create a website on a platform that is specially built for artists. (FASO!)

It will showcase our art, yes. But we can also tell our creation story, how we came to do what we do, why we do it, and how we do it.

We can create email newsletters that lets our audience stay up-to-date about what we’re up to.

We can show stages of where we are with our new works-in-progress. Instagram is PERFECT for this! This week, I had a breakthrough that’s held me back on several big projects for years. I’ve been posting updates on IG. (Okay, today I realized I haven’t actually solved the holding-me-back thing, but I’m excited by how close I am to fixing it!)

We can share on Facebook, especially our business page. We can share updates, thoughts, stories, images, etc. (And you can post on Instagram, and have it re-posted on Facebook.)

Virtual events are more common. Do they work? Yes and no. I participated in three virtual events in August and September. I didn’t think I’d made any significant sales, especially with the two that took place here in California. But afterwards, I realized this strong uptick in several larger-than-normal online sales during that period came from…a virtual event in New Hampshire!

The people that have followed me for years suddenly leaped at the chance to buy my work, and it was very satisfying. (The sales didn’t occur through the online channels of those events, which is what threw me. People found me there, then went to my online store and made their purchases directly from me.) These virtual events didn’t cost much, and I consider what fees I did pay, as my online marketing budget.

Social media marketing is what will get us through this ‘new normal’, until something like the ‘old normal’ returns.

And yet, from some of the comments made during this time, Fine Art Views readers often remind me how tired they are with all this focus on social media.

I try to remember to check back on where commenters are coming from, so I check their website and their work. Seems like the unhappiest folks didn’t have an online store/shop, or even prices on their work. Some don’t even have a website.

In my volunteer work for one major virtual event, I created captions/sentences for over 140 artists, describing their work, their inspiration, and what made their work unique.

I was shocked how many of them didn’t have a website. Or they didn’t have a correct link to their website. (I had to Google them.) Or they only had a bare-bones website, not even featuring more than one image of their work.

So many people had ‘resumes’ instead of actual artist statements. I had to dig deep to find anything of interest to say about their work, or simply go with what I thought of their work. (Don’t worry, I was kind to everyone.)

So many people didn’t have any social media accounts—no Facebook, no Instagram, even though Instagram, based on images, feels made for visual artists.

I know hundreds of artists and craftspeople. Yet in my own email feed, I get email newsletters from less than a handful of fellow artists. And some of those are not newsletters I signed up for.  They got my address from events I signed up for, or a group activity I was in. (DO NOT sign up people without their permission!)

And some artists didn’t even share their email address.

To continue the metaphor, if these folks were astronauts, they’d be dying for lack of oxygen.

Now, if your intention during this pandemic is to step back, focus on your work, and let go of sales and marketing until the ‘old normal’ is back, it’s okay, and I don’t blame you. It’s definitely a great time to dig in and make our art. Fewer distractions, fewer obligations, and I can’t go thrift shopping. (Did I say that out loud??)

But if you want to boldly go where you’ve never gone before, now is the time to bump up your social media marketing game.

Don’t complain, up your game!

If you enjoyed this article, share it! Link back to it here on Fine Art Views, or my blog at luannudell.wordpress.com.

If someone shared this article with you, and you’d like to read more in this series, visit my articles at FineArtViews.com.

Hearing the Call…

Homelessness is a problem not unique to California, but it can be more obvious because, obviously, the gentler weather works in their favor. There were plenty of homeless people in every placed we’ve lived over the past five decades.

My first art studio in Santa Rosa was near a park that had been a hot mess the years before I moved there. Rampant drug use and sales were an issue. But over time, this was mostly resolved, and now it’s a place where anyone can enjoy a little bit of nature.

I met quite a few homeless people, which was disquieting after the coffee shop next door closed for the day at 3 p.m., and again when it closed for good. Fortunately, I had a Dutch door, which allowed me to chat with them when they knocked on my door. I could assess them slightly, and simply close the top of the door when things got iffy. I had quite a few rich conversations with some.

My most frightening encounter was during an open studio event one evening late in the year, when night comes early. My tiny studio was filled with visitors, all happily exploring my space.

Until one older woman in a cheetah coat erupted.

She overheard me talking to someone about how I imagined myself an artist of the distant past with my artwork. It had been a long day, I was tired, and I said “pretended” instead of “imagined.”

She exploded. “Pretend” seemed like a fake façade to her, and she ranted on for several minutes about lack of integrity.

I was stunned, and tried to clarify my intentions. But she wasn’t having it. The push-back made her angrier. And everyone else fled my studio in a heartbeat.

Except for two women who stood silently by.

I am not good in these situations. When I’m scared, I run. I am not good in conflicts, and aggressive people scare the bejeezus out of me.

But something in me was paying attention. Something in me realized I was “doing it wrong”.

So instead of being defensive, I focused on connection.

I can’t remember what I said at the time. It was wasn’t about me, it was about the cave. How climate change caused those people to see their whole way of life disappearing in a handful of years. How those paintings were a prayer, calling the horses back. How the horses represent hope, and courage, for me as an artist, and for the world.

She calmed down, and listened.

And then I gave her a little horse. I put it in her hand, put mine around hers. I told her I wanted her to have it as a reminder of that. That we all matter.

Then I gently led her to the door and said goodbye.

Now, to be fair, in my mind, I figured giving her something was a good way to get her to leave. But that’s not how my two remaining visitors saw it.

Turns out both of them had experience with this. One was a psychiatric nurse, one had a similar background. Both of them said, “We knew she was going to be trouble. We knew it could go south in a heartbeat. And we weren’t going to leave until we knew you would be okay.”

Wow! Talk about angels in odd places….!!

They both said I had handled it beautifully. Met her where she was. Saw her as a fellow human. Being kind and patient.

I was flabberghasted. I felt I didn’t deserve the praise. I told them my own selfish intentions. They wouldn’t have it. (One of them still shows up to my events from time to time.)

Now, as an insight, that was pretty powerful. But it gets better.

A couple years later, I saw her picture in our local newspaper, The Press Democrat.

It was an article about people who lived on the streets who had finally been rehomed. She was one of them. An apartment had been found for her. In fact, she’d been in it for a couple months by the time she came to my studio.

What blew my mind?

She said that living on the streets was so traumatizing, it had taken her a looooong time to heal and recover. She said she was still ‘crazy’ for almost a year after, and she was just beginning to envision a normal life for herself.

It made me realize that even a home for a homeless person is not enough. They need support services, some for awhile, some for the long haul. They need to finally feel safe. And they need people who care.

That made me a teensy bit bolder in my interactions with this population. I remember a beautiful conversation I had with one person who was transitioning to female. At the end of our conversation, I asked her what she needed, expecting to hear “money”, and I would have given her some. But said, “I’m just so hungry right now.” Fortunately, I had a giant bag of granola I’d brought in for my snack stash. I asked if that would work, and she lit up with joy. I gave her the whole bag. (A year later, she appeared in a similar article. She now lives in a tiny house settlement outside Santa Rosa. Another artist in my community at the time had donated original hand-painted house signs for each unit.)

My assumptions about how to help others has gone through many transitions over the years. First it was, “Don’t give them money, they’ll just spend it on booze and cigarettes!” So I didn’t give out money. Until our same local newspaper shared that, if people on sleeping on a sidewalk, and cigarettes and booze help them cope, why should we judge that?

From then on, I would give pan-handlers $10 or even $20, after reading it could make a difference. One elderly gentleman danced for joy when I gave him a $20. “I’m gonna go over to that (fast food place) and buy breakfast!”

But later I learned that money is better spent supporting the non-profits that serve the homeless. Money gained through begging simply encourages them to “stay put”. In fact, my new studio is close to a residential facility that is the first step towards rehoming this population. It’s temporary shelter that works with people who have taken that first step.

I drive by there at least twice a day. It can be daunting at times. There’s often someone who will walk in front of my car as I drive by, on their way to the bus stop up the road, sometimes obviously intentional. During the hours they need to vacate the premises, they gather along the street. They leave trash behind. It can be annoying.

But then I think, if this is their only feeling of control in their lives right now, I can handle that.

And if you’d like to read a story about the best public art project I’ve ever witnessed personally, check out this excerpt in article about Bud Snow’s project in my Learning to See series:

“Bud Snow was someone I met during my studio years at South A Street in Santa Rosa. They do large-scale public art, colorful, vibrant murals, usually up high. The featured work on that page I linked was a mandala painted on a cemented area on the ground, in a park near my studio. It took them much longer to paint than usual, because passers-by could stand and watch them as they worked, asking questions and in total awe of the work.

Soon Bud Snow offered every visitor a chance to help paint the mandala! I did, and over a period of four days, I saw them interact in a beautiful, powerful way with every single visitor: Parents picking up their kids from the elementary school across the street. Local workers and business owners. Homeless people. Every single one of them was thrilled to take part. It was one of the finest, truest examples of ‘public art’ I’ve ever seen, involving members of the very community the art was meant to serve.

Yes, Bud Snow was paid for the mural. (Though the extra time spent with the public tripled the time it took, so they took a hit.) Yes, Bud Snow’s work is now a sort of very-public advertisement for their work. Each one enhances their reputation and their asking price.

And yet cities pay for public art because it’s considered a powerful force for good for their citizens. The premise is, art really is a gift that everyone deserves, not just wealthy collectors who will pay hundreds of millions of dollars for a single painting (of a long-dead artist)….”

I still remember the homeless guy who showed up as night fell, on Julia’s last day of painting the mural. He had a flashlight and held it for us as we helped Julia pack up her stuff in the dark.

It was obvious that he was happy to be part of a group, happy to help her, happy to be ‘of use’. He smiled the entire time. I can still see his face, gently revealed by the light he held in his hand.

I’m still learning, of course. But maybe some of my experiences can be a source of hope for others.

NextDoor, an online resource for individual neighborhoods, is often a place where people can complain at length about this issue. And sometimes, the lack of compassion, anger, resentment, and general angst about this population can get out of hand.

The latest outrage about homeless people is directed at a woman who helps herself to flowers in a neighbor’s yard. When told not to pick them anymore, she got angry. She now picks them and throws them in the street.

The discussion is almost evenly divided between “please be kind” and “get rid of these creeps!” Some of the responses were downright scary, scarier than most homeless people I’ve dealt with.

Here’s what I wrote today:

“FWIW, my partner of over 42 years brought me flowers on our first meet-up. They looked freshly picked, and he told me he’d picked them from a tree lawn on the way over. (He didn’t have a car at the time.) I told him most people do not want their flowers picked, and he said, I thought that’s why they put them near the sidewalk, so people could pick them. So there are plenty of people who think “public” flowers are for the public to pick. 😀

I want to say thanks and love to all the folks here who show some compassion for the homeless population. They are not all one population, not all live with addictions, not all have mental health issues, a lot of them age out of foster care, or have young children, or injuries that affect them deeply, and MOST of them do not want to be homeless.

But all of them want the power of their choices, as do we all. Even when they step up and transition towards a home, it can take months, if not years, to heal from the trauma of living on the streets. They can be annoying, they can be problematic, they can be downright scary, and some we SHOULD be scared of.

But they are all also unique human beings who cannot afford services on their own. If we really want to consider ourselves true human beings, we have to start by seeing them as human, too, as humans who have not had our own advantages of support, income, homes, health care, good choices (that worked out for US), and people who care.”

We have to understand that part of why we see them as “other” is a way to distance ourselves from their situation. We want to believe that this could NEVER happen to us.

And yet we all know we may be one accident, one paycheck, one disaster away from being in that same situation. It could happen to a loved one. It could happen to us.

We can choose to look away.

Or we can choose to find even the tiniest way of helping. With our donations, with our taxes, with our volunteer time, with our work, with our compassion.

Part of me desperately wants to volunteer again with schools, with animals, with hospice.

But something is telling me my next service might be right in front of me. It’s scary. I’m still afraid.

But it won’t hurt to find out.

NEWSLETTERS 101: Share Your Events – the Right Way!

An event with multiple artists with a core topic may attract a different audience than our open studio event.

11/10/2020 by Luann Udell
This post is by Luann Udell, regular contributing author for FineArtViews. She’s blogged since 2002 about the business side–and the spiritual inside–of art. She says, “I share my experiences so you won’t have to make ALL the same mistakes I did….”  For ten years, Luann also wrote a column (“Craft Matters”) for The Crafts Report magazine (a monthly business resource for the crafts professional) where she explored the funnier side of her life in craft. She’s a double-juried member of the prestigious League of New Hampshire Craftsmen (fiber & art jewelry). Her work has appeared in books, magazines, and newspapers across the country and she is a published writer.

Do it how bands do it! 

(5 minute read)

Today’s suggestion for newsletter topics is short and sweet:

One event at a time.

I learned this one the hard way.

One year, I had three events in one month.

This was almost two decades ago, when postcard mailings were the way we stayed in touch with our audience. I had a huge mailing list, so even postcards could run into hundreds of dollars to promote events.

And if people couldn’t make it to one event, they would have the opportunity to catch the next one, or the next, right?

And so I combined all three events in one postcard.

I was very proud of myself for keeping my marketing costs down. But I paid for it dearly.

All three events were total duds. NO ONE showed up. I mean, crickets.

I was devastated. How had I lost such a huge audience in a handful of weeks?? What was going on???

At the time, I wrote a monthly column for a fine crafts magazine, The Crafts Report (now known as Handmade Business.) I became friends with my editor, Larry Hornung. (Not the hockey player!) We had wonderful phone chats from time to time. I loved his insights and his wacky sense of humor.

And fortunately for me, he also had a side-gig as a musician in a band.

I sadly shared how nobody liked my work anymore, and he set me straight in a jiffy. Starting with, “No, no, NO!…”

“Never, NEVER promote more than one event at a time!!!”

They said it’s common knowledge in the music industry (on the level where you’re not doing world tours!) to promote only one gig at a time. He reiterated this points many times in our conversation.

Our audience is comprised of human beings. Human beings, when told they have not one, but two, or even three opportunities to attend an event will do this:

They’ll say, “Ooh, the first one’s on a Friday night, but I’ve got another thing I might go do, so I’ll just go to the second one.”

The second date approaches, and they’ll say, “I could go tonight, but now I’m tired, so I’ll go to the third one.”

Then something comes up between now and the third event, and they can’t go at all.

This is sooooo normal. In fact, I scheduled a meet-up (socially-distanced, open windows, masks) recently with a potential customer. They suggested two possible days/times, and I said, “Let’s go with the first one so if something comes up, we have a back-up plan. Sure enough, something came up that was juuuuust important enough to push that back.

Unfortunately, something had come up for them, too, so they were not sure they could make it. Then fortunately, they found out they could, but unfortunately I’d already started an errand that was hard to bail on. Fortunately,  I did bail, and fortunately,  they hadn’t gotten my message that I couldn’t make it.

We arrived at my studio within minutes of each other.

We had a good laugh, they found their perfect piece and had to leave sooner than they’d planned, because guess what? They had to be somewhere else.

When you give people too many opportunities to opt out easily, they will.

And when you create a little urgency with your event, they are more likely NOT to opt out.

As I’ve said before, ‘urgency’ in sales tactics can be overdone. We’ve all seen the little timer counting down on a website, telling us we only have 20 minutes to take advantage of this amazing offer. I grit my teeth and move on, as most of us do. So don’t overuse this.

But do focus on one event. Especially now, when it’s hard to have in-person events at all. And especially when we get through these times, and we’ll again have infinite opportunities for so many social functions.

Note: I know that it’s common to post such a list of events on our websites, especially if we do a lot of fairs and shows. But in many cases, these are spread out over a state or region, or even across the country. So we are actually still focusing on one event in one area, as opposed to multiple events within 20 miles of each other.

Also, be sure to share what will be unique and special about each event. For an author’s audience, it could be an opportunity to meet the writer and have our book signed by them. If it’s in our studio, there’s not just the opportunity for visitors to experience our sacred creative place, it’s a chance to watch us demo our process. If it’s a gallery show, it’s an opportunity to see a full display of our best work (solo show) or a lot of other favorite artists (group show.) Let people know if the event will also support a cause you and your audience cares about. (See last week’s article in this series about that.)

All of these details may attract different people, which is fine.

And if you’ve already created different groups in your email newsletters, which is a FASO email newsletter feature, then you can send out different emails to each group, focusing on their stated interests. (For example, people who are only interested in workshop might be more inclined to attend a demo event.) (Me? I’m not that organized, so I send ‘em to everyone on my list.)

I’m so glad I shared my woes with my editor that day, with the exact person who had the perfect insight to my problem. One creative reaching out to another creative to share what we both had in common.

Promote one event at a time.

Three events? Three different notifications, spaced just enough in time so people can make good choices, for us, and them!

And speaking of sharing, if you enjoyed this article, share it! Link back to it here on Fine Art Views, or my blog at luannudell.wordpress.com.

If someone shared this article with you, and you’d like to read more in this series, visit my articles at FineArtViews.com.