Blog - creatives and crafters

I was right in the middle of a dream where both of my eyeballs were, curiously, weeping blood. This was, of course, followed by an intense search for a public toilet and, AS USUAL, the only available toilet was in a high-traffic area of the Southdale Mall.

Thank God Jen called and woke me up. But not before I reluctantly (why do I always do it??) sat my bare bottom on the toilet.

If I’ve learned anything in my life it is how to be wrenched from a sound sleep and into a car in under 5 minutes.

It’s not pretty but neither is childbirth.

Jen and I stopped for our traditional latte at the May Day Cafe and then it was onward to the State Fairgrounds. The Fine Arts Building was our cold and unwelcoming host, its huge doors left open to remind us that April can be just as cold as November.

I’m sure the whole building was full of crafty-goodness but unless tables were set up on the way to the bathroom, I wasn’t going to see them. For eight hours, I did observe the folks running the Burlesque of North America table. They are screen printers – a craft that I have always had a crush on. Anyway, despite the sweetness of their prints, they were just as freezing as us.

Poor thing!

Our big experiment for this year’s fair involved a QR code

that led to our latest Watch and Share card.

It was successful. If you measure success in terms of wishes and smiles. Which I do.

Hey!

I’ve got your stimulus plan right here: (picture me pantomiming using and flushing a toilet)

WHAT?! I KNOW! It’’s nuts, but don’’t worry, I have a plan. What? You are a “creative” and not one of those money-grubbing-pencil-pushing-number-crunching-suit-wearing-folder-filing-douche-bags? Oh, well. Never mind. Your bulging, overdeveloped right brain will miraculously begin its emergency production of U.S. currency.

Oh, silly me. Or, “Blee, blah, blah” as my mom would say. That was MY bulging, overdeveloped right brain trying to find a creative solution for something that is far too complicated for my shriveled left brain to comprehend. Doctors say that my left brain is all that actually remains of my parasitic conjoined twin.

But that’’s not important.

Listen, what IS important is this: Stuff as much potable water and canned ham as will fit in a canvas bag and hitchhike to the least populated area you can find. It will probably be a shopping mall because nobody has any money”.

I’’m just kidding.

Don’’t bring the canned ham – that’s gross. Bring one of those shrink-wrapped holiday sausages. Okay, where was I? Why do I think it’’s important to go to the mall to see the people NOT spending their moola? BECAUSE, you – The Creative, need to inspire the buyer to buy and should see firsthand where the people are milling about, imagining shelling out their hard-earned dough. This economic pickle will do something interesting for the creative community: It will separate the men from the boys, like a giant, emotionless colander. All you timid, cowering, insecure creatives will slip through the holes.

Don’t feel bad, your “”creative thing”” could win you the title of The Most Awesome Pictionary Partner.

But, the rest of you… YOU need to bring it.

Bring.

It.

Show us what you’’re made of! There was a time when men labored their entire lives on a single artistic work. We have a word for those people: Dead. And also, dedicated. Know your market and drive your original, imaginative spear right through that teeny-tiny part of their brain that whispers, “I like that.”

NOW, if you are a creative that does NOT need to earn a living busting your creative butt- ignore all of those crazy words above. YOU are a purist. You design and make and create because you can. If I were Oprah I’’d say that with a ton of energy and enthusiasm, “BECAUSE… YOU… CAN!!” Do you feel me? Knit, sew, draw, paint, print, cook, write – whatever your medium, do your thing – don’’t let the staggering, smelly, urine-soaked economy drag you down, don’’t be discouraged! This is your big chance to wear depression-era clothing and squeeze blood from a stone! Visit your local thrift stores for materials, scour Craigslist for deals, fish your local pond for dinner!

My brother, Zak, goes to great lengths to keep his money from The Man. (Offshore accounts, blee, blah, blah) Salvaging wood from broken-down barns, buildings, docks, whatever – and transforms them into stunning pieces of furniture, ornaments, frames, and toys. (Shameless, nepotistic plug: click here to be lathered in images of wooden beauty)

It must be genetic because My Grandpa was all about recycling WAY before it was even a thing. He made his living as a plumber and knew copper more than most men know their wives. (But who can really KNOW copper? Right?) Door pulls, garden arbors, oven racks… the whole damn house was held together by copper.

Are you picking up what I’’m laying down? I’’m giving you examples from my own life that you might find something relatable in yours. That makes you, the reader, feel closer to me. We should totally go have coffee and talk about how we’re going to rock 2009.

Right on.