It’s got to be about the passion, the dream, and your end goal. Forget the haters and focus on what you want, not negativity.

That’s been my chorus since the interaction with my unthinking coworker. It’s amazing that one interaction has affected me so much that I’m thinking about it a full 24 hours later. I’m a simple woman who will normally forget an inconsequential interaction moments after it’s over.

This stuck with me, I think mostly because it’s so similar to things I’ve heard in the past and perhaps too close to my internalized fears.

Another part of her comment that I want to explore is her derisive attitude toward the “internet.” If I opened an art studio in my garage (currently filled with bike and moped parts) and held classes I’m sure she would not look down upon my classes. It would look to her like an old fashioned business, something she could understand. When you take stuff to the internet it’s often see as less than the brick and mortar version. Not to be arrogant but take a moment to examine Amazon, eBay or any one of the hundreds of other successful internet ONLY businesses to see that internet businesses work. They are successful.

Will online education be successful? I think it can be, even when it’s not affiliated with a university. For profit education is always suspect when compared to “school based” education but let’s face it most Universities and Colleges are no longer non-profit. When you add to them corporate advertising in foyers, sponsorships of sports, there is a lot of profit in the higher education system. Just because it’s disguised doesn’t mean it’s not there. That being said, inexpensive art classes via the internet draw people into art. People who may have a dormant interest may take an online art class and it may awaken their appreciation of the arts. I think that’s the ultimate goal of online art classes should be to do that. Awaken the artist and awaken the appreciation.

On that note check out this piece on the Boston’ Philharmonic Orchestra’s Benjamin Zucker.

Every time I sit down at my computer I’m intensely aware that on the other side of the information super highway are people who read my blog, take my classes, and are members of artjournaling.ning.com I want to take a moment to say:

Thanks, you rock.

Each and everyone of you inspires me and supports me in what I do.

I am humbled that people want to read/listen to what I have to say. I’m grateful that you are here again and again. I’m in awe of the submissions for my art project. When you comment on the blog I appreciate it more than you know.

Here’s my promise, I won’t get to full of myself and if I do, you can tell me. I like honesty in a relationship, and hope you do too. I like to talk and I’m glad you like to listen and I’ll never take that for granted. I hope to always “keep it real.” If I don’t you know what to do.

I’ve had some great response to my post, “They Fear your Success.” The one that got me thinking and reflecting more upon that post was one from my friend Sarah* over on FB:

I heard the best quote recently about women in the workplace in regards to sexism and men: "men don't give power to each other, they take it. if you want power, take it." i think that thought really works with many aspects of life and following dreams…we have to take it, own it and make it…

Frankly her thought and quote does work with the workplace and following your dreams.

As I’ve followed my dream and passion I’ve worked really hard. It’s not easy to do an online class, keep a blog, or set time aside for the studio. In fact it’s a lot of damn hard work. It takes organizational skills, the effort to make it work, drive, and ambition. Without the drive and the ambition I’d not be where I am, doing one class per semester period and gambling what one could say is a good stable job for something that may have a questionable future. Let’s face it everyone who reads this blog, buys my journals or takes my classes might decide I’m a donkey and stop. And this dream I’m working on could all come crashing down.

Let me tell you what my dream is, define it and put it out there: My dream is to teach art online, work on my master’s degree, and paint. It’s simple until you look at the future extended out from that. Can I make ends meet teaching online art classes? Maybe, I know several people who do and I think I can do it too. I have an art show coming up, my first since college graduation, which pisses me off and fills me with excitement at the same time. The master’s degree can be worked on while I’m working on classes and the show. My ETA for entry is fall 2012. I have plans for the degree. I want to teach art in person too, perhaps an adjunct teaching position, perhaps some workshops. Who knows?

What I DO know right now is that teaching these art classes, online, which my coworker dismissed so carelessly, makes me happy. I love doing it. Besides art it’s one of the few things that really make me happy.

And that’s the core of what my coworker was getting at, my happiness, dismissing it. Dismissing the online aspect of what I do is, well, it’s just stupid, empty headed and without thought. An online job is a job, regardless of being self employed or getting paid.  (As Sarah more succinctly stated.)

Some people are afraid of the happiness of others; it forces them to examine their own misery, unhappiness and regrets.  I can’t give my coworker happiness but I can strive forward toward mine.

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I discovered Freekhand on flickr quite sometime ago and love all  his work. His journal flips are no different. Amazing work, you shoudl head to Youtube and subscribe.

“The substance of them is hatred for any man who loves his work. That’s the only kind they fear. I don’t know why.”  Ayn Rand, The Fountainhead

In my life I’ve encountered little of what Hazel Dooney refered to as “tall poppy syndrome.” The above quote from the fountainhead addresses it too. I’ve mostly been able to surround myself with friends who are allies against the “man” and the monotony of the DayJob, they all wished they were somewhere else too. Discussions of art and music are more common at company gatherings than discussions about business or the bottom line, at least for those of us on the front line. I have no idea what it’s like for the bigwigs in the office, those I spent nearly 6 months working with them I saw nothing from them than diehard dedication to the job. Though I know several of my good friends who also work in the office, for which I was a terrible match, have outside interests.

In my circle of peers, even those who have climbed the corporate step ladder with me, I’ve encounter mostly closeted artists and musicians, desperately seeking their break. Some have given up and seek only to enjoy the arts. As such my friends and coworkers have always been supportive of me.

My schedule is from 32 to 36 hours a week, some weeks more as needed. I work those hours to allow me more time to work on my classes and art, which I refer to at work as “my second job.” In my mind I usually also refer to it as “my real job.” Today I made the comment about “my 2^nd job” infront of someone who has never heard me use the term. Squinting at me she stated, “What second job?” To which I replied, “I’m self employed, my art classes.” In a derisive tone she said, “Well, that’s online!” At that very moment I wanted to smack myself in the forehead or bang my head against the wall; instead I said “Well, I get paid to do it and I do HAVE to be physically there for the class, which is live.”

I haven’t felt that kind of derisive attention to my chosen profession in years, possibly since high school, when I told someone I wanted to be an artist and I was told “That’s retarded, you should go into physics, you’re good at that.” I believe that same person suggested I go for the paper company scholarship, which is funny, because all the paper mills in Maine have closed down and move to China. Yet, here I am teaching art online while my classmates that worked for the paper company are out of jobs.

My point is, though I had put my head up my arse about it, is that people still fear the passion, they will ridicule you and fight you for attention and try and force you to failure.  

Last year for Christmas my mom got me a cricut machine because she wanted to see “what I’d do with it.” I’d played with hers and cut hundreds of leaves, trees and shapes while I was caring for her. I truly expected my interest in the machine to be fleeting, cut a few hundred things, use them up and then move onto the next great thing. That is until I discovered the world of Makes the Cut and Sure Cuts A Lot.

These 2 programs really unlock the power of the cricut machine. Using them you can create your own designs and not rely upon the preloaded cartridges that cost an arm and a leg. Using MTC I can scan an object, refine it in gimp and them load it into MTC for a pixel trace and then cut a mask, stencil or cut for use in my art.

MTC also has a large gallery of pre-made shapes created by other crafters, these are ripe for the adapting into new projects and adapted shapes.

I guess the theme of today is as follows: If you can’t buy a decent mask make your own, either by hacking your cricut or getting an exacto knife.

A friend contacted me in regards to working in an art show with her. She remembered some of my work from visiting my best friend back when we were roommates. My work has come a long way from the stuff I did back them. (Acrylics on paper, linoleum prints and hacked screenprinting) But the concept for the show is this: Women’s role in society. All artist’s involved will be contemplating that theme.

Here’s what I’m thinking, I want to do what I do best and get my readers involved. Sure I could explore, ad nauseum, my personal role in society but what interests me more is the stores from my internet friends. So I’m soliciting your stories. If you are interested in participating answer a few questions:

• What is your role in society/relationship?
• Do you see that role as traditional/non-traditional?
• How do you express your role?
• What do you think is the biggest current issue for women?

Write an essay and email it to leslie.herger@gmail.com or hand write the essay, scan it at 300dpi or better and email it to me. Length is up to you, but 500 words or more would be best. Deadline for submissions is January 1st, 2011.

Your essay will be expanded to fill up a board of as of yet indetermined size. (Looks likely to be 12×12 inches) I'll use the same font through out. The essay will then be transfered to the board and I'll respond in my grungy art journal style. Lots of layers of color, glazes and multi media. Let me know in the submission if you want me to use full first name, initials or if you'd like it anonymous.

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I attended a semi private High School. The school contracted with local towns to teach their students and received many donations from alumni. I received a decent education that was greatly supplemented by having 2 really intelligent well read parents.  

Lately the letters requesting donations have really gotten to me. Crawl under my skin and tick me off gotten to me.

Now, they initially got my address by sending a letter to my parent’s house with my name on it while I had an address forward in place. Instead of forwarding the letter the post office returns it with the new address stuck to the envelope. Voila! My high school alumni association had my address. I would NOT have chosen to give them my address.

When I moved from the area where I grew up I left things behind.  When I started to get the letters and publications I hadn’t been in touch with anyone for nearly 10 years. The first publication arrived with an envelope and email with a request to “update us on your status.” I dutifully emailed in a brief blurb about how my partner and I had recently moved to lovely Beverly, MA. Blah blah blah.

They never published it.

You see the woman in charge of the status updates for the publication is a Baptist bible beater who doesn’t believe in “the gays.” I knew when I sent the update in it stood little chance of reaching publication.*

After it wasn’t published I sent several requests to be removed from the mailing list. To no avail. I STILL receive the quarterly magazine and the bimonthly emails begging me for donations.

This last letter was over the top. I will donate money when the “head of school” #1 learns how to write a letter that isn’t filled with redundancy or  #2 hires an assistant with an English degree that isn’t from UMM.

First off letters begging me for money should be cliché free. Secondly let’s not be redundant, a white marking board is a white board in every part of the world except East Machias, ME. The 40 Chairs for student center, about which the entire letter was about, could have simply been written as “40 Chairs.” The “78 Student Classroom Chairs” could have  been “78 chairs for classrooms,”  unless they are chairs for elephants there is no reason to state they are student chairs. With so much detail lavished upon the chair situation I was distraught to find to requests for “tables” and “oak tables.” Dear god, where are these going?  Who are they for?

Perhaps when Washington Academy hires a “Headmaster” and is bigotry free I’ll donate. We all know that will happen when hell freezes over.

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Most of my life I’ve collected small rusty metal bits and tumbled plastic junk in a reverse magpie type fashion. The refuse of my daily life would accumulate in the bed side “empty pockets here” bowl until I moved or tossed the contents. Little of this weird collection of crap remains. Some of it has ended up in my art journal, most the landfill.

A couple of months ago I thought it might be useful or interesting to put the individual items in small plastic baggies, attach them to a card or the pages of a book and label where and when I found them. It may be useful or interesting to only me.

I’ve had this image of how the collection should look, how the pages should be and what the finished product should feel and look. So I’ve set about making the object in my mind. The book will be a 6×6 inches with a large number of pages bound with heavy linen thread to make room for the objects. The objects fit into a small 2×3 inch plastic Ziploc baggies. The baggies are adhered to the page with white tape (washi.) Each object gets a small hang tag, 1×2 inches with red paper reinforcement around the hole and rough hemp twine to hold it to the page. Each tag will get a small piece of gridded tape with the info about the object where and when collected. The reverse side may have the name of the object.

I wanted the tags to appear cheaply manufactured not handmade. So I set about making them. I used a cricut machine with makes-the-cut to cut 120 tags and hundreds of small red circles with holes in the center. I needed them to be precisely cut to fit the tag- they had to be 8mm with a 3mm hole.  The machine handled the tags with ease, the small red circles… not so much. I ended up with hundreds of the 8mm circles on my desk needing the center removed. A twitter friend pointed out that it would have been far easier for me to use a hand punch to cut the circles and then a smaller punch to cut the center hole. She was right. I have a 3mm leather punch that would have been perfect on a stack of the circles.

I then spent the evening hunched over assembling the tags. I’ve completely finished 50, complete with hemp twine. I’ve glued the circles to another 40. I’ll stop and pick up the rest of the hemp tonight after work.

Looking at the collection of junk I realize this is completely insane. I’ve know that my nearly obsessive compulsion to pick up rusty bits of metal, shopping lists, distressed paper and other assorted junk was insane but the cataloging of my nutty compulsion is a step further than perhaps I should go.*

The thing is, I’m thinking of other things I can catalog in this manner.  I may have taken this a step too far.

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I really enjoy the process of this page. There were a few spots where I"d have stopped as I love the layers she built up.