Archive for the ‘Disillusioned’ Category

At the Guggenheim ~ Museums and Art Alienation

Guggenheim Rotunda. Photo by Robert C, c-monster.net

I have often found myself in front of a museum canvas – a Titian, an Ingres, a Pollock, what have you – deadly thumbing the vibrant band of beads around my neck, which only moments before had given pure delight.  All senses vanquished. Just numb.

Or dumb?

Why can’t I be moved?  Why doesn’t this priceless work captivate me? Where has the damn luster in my necklace escaped?

This art is better than I am.  It knows more than I.  Other people feel it, get it. I know it’s worth more than I could ever amount.  The auction records say so! It’s in a museum.

And here I say this, hailing from an educational and professional background that would assume otherwise.

Today, at the Guggenheim Museum, I learned just why I don’t get it.  Why sometimes others may not get it, though don’t propose to confess.

On participation (not view) is a conceptual work by Tino Sehgal.  The entire Frank Lloyd Wright-designed rotunda has been stripped bare of all material works.  In its place, Sehgal has hired and trained area youth and adults to interact with museum visitors on a purely verbal plain.  There is nothing concrete to have, nothing one can buy.

You become the work.  You create.  You matter.  You become the matter.

This is how art moved – moved me ~

Mise en scene: I enter museum rotunda and begin the slow, spiral journey upward.  Enter Eric, an 8-year old boy. He is abrupt and stuns me.

Eric: What is progress?

Me: What? Ummmm. Hmmm. Well, okay, to me our view of progress is troubled.  Is progress always moving away from something, assuming that the next thing is better? What’s the proof?  What if it were progress to go back in history and live like farmers?  But that’s not how I’ve been trained to think of progress.

Eric: (He’s been listening intently).  Let me see if I understand?  (He repeats what I said, seeming to process its meaning).

(Eric is approached by a young girl named Fatima.  She’s in middle school.  Eric tells Fatima what I said.  Eric leaves and Fatima continues to walk with me around the rotunda.)

Fatima:  I’ve not heard that view of progress before.  I get it! I really do! Is progress what Government is doing today by bringing back Roosevelt’s New Deal tactics?  Is it good to reissue methods used during the Great Depression today?

(Fatima is met by Mark.  Mark is tall and skinny, probably in his early-30s).

Mark:  Is it bad when preferences become rules?

Me: Oh my God, that’s a great question.  I guess preferences quickly become defense mechanisms, shutting you down?

The dialogue continued onward to the rotunda dome.  I was exhilarated, moved, scared, alive!  As I made my way slowly down the rotunda ramp, I shouted to Mark, “This is progress!”

I didn’t feel art-alienated anymore.  I mattered.  I made “matter.”  I feel the same way when I craft.

I’m ready to go back to the museum canvas.

Similar art ailment? I could be alone.

Textured Time

What a week! As I sit from my perch at the side of a quiet, yet dignified old brownstone fireplace amongst the personal effects that make my life meaningful: husband, heavy tomes + light novellas alike, a sundry of objets trouves from our travels,and one special piece I made called Textured Time, I sense an approaching serenity.

Quelle surprise. This is the sentiment of a woman who usually finds herself in a flurry of activity on Sunday.  Always. Wanting. More. Until sidelined with a physically debilitating and emotionally crushing flu that threw me into a serious bout of self reflection.

Last night when my husband buried me under the covers, willing my fever to break, a slew of images swirled about. In the onset of visual vertigo and a deafening – literally – ear infection, I relived the week’s monumental happenings.

The private event at the Museum of Art & Design, the culmination of a month-long sprint of politicking and art prattling, turned out to be one of the most rewarding art events I’ve planned to date.

This photo reminds me of the days I used to coordinate luncheons in the arts for prominent art collectors. This one, though, had the Clueless Crafter branded all over it: lighthearted exchange amongst a bevy of beautiful and intriguing decorative objects.

The article Don’t Do It Yourself, born out of a year’s rumination on the rewards and risks of the handmade life.

The handmade clock Textured Time (which I truly adore and therefore named!) is the result of the Bauhaus Lab I attended at The Museum of Modern Art.

My interpretation of a day recorded in the material world. Feathers mark daybreak; creams punctuated by black velour signify the struggle to wake; soft blues and silkyviolet show the daily humdrum; and, heavy orange plaids are the day's seconds woven together, fiery with hope and the prospect of another day richly lived.

And now last week’s excitement is screeching to a halt and another week is on the brink.  I am left with sights, sounds, and feelings of a time that will never have the same texture.  There is a profound sense of loss as I grapple with the past and the will to go forward.  What next?

The hard part about life is loss.  Sometimes all we can do is cling longingly to a relic.  I’m glad that this evening I have Textured Time with me.  Thank god I made it.

What textures of time gone by do you cherish most?

When the Art Market Is a Big Bully, You Got to Get Arthletic

A stroll through a high caliber, “blue chip” art fair as seen from this clueless collector.  I know my art, but sure can’t play the collector part.

The Basel Bully - the collectors, the blue chip galleries, the aspirational affluent - take on the art uninitiated.

The Basel Bully - the collectors, the blue chip galleries, the aspirational-affluent - takes on the art market uninitiated.

Art Basel Miami was a bully to my senses. The fair, the 15 satellite exhibitions, the whole production from pre- to after-party was a twitching muscle demanding the submission of all assets  - spiritual to financial – to its needy desire.  It wanted to perform for me; I to perform for it.

You wouldn't happen to be VIP?  Oh, you're notttt?!  As I've been hearing, John, (taking a quarter turn to his left) the blogs have been saying that you have had the most active backroom of all at the fair.  What's the champagne for?  Everything is sold.  (cork pops, both smile).

Overheard: "You wouldn't happen to be VIP? OH, you're not?! As I've been hearing, John, (taking a quarter turn to his left away from Non-VIP Person) the blogs have been saying that you have had the most active backroom at the fair. . . What's the champagne for?" "Everything sold, of course." (cork pops, both smile).

From my 5′4″ shortstuff standpoint, the fair’s muscularity was palpable. For the moneyed and the art afficonado who frequent this premier event, politesse was remarkably passee.  A push here a body check there?  Yeah rah!  A  point on the score board. . . .

The Basel Labrynth where clans of collectors lurk, waiting to strike a move.

The Basel Labyrinth where clans of collectors lurk, waiting to strike a move. (photo credit Artnet.com)

I’m a feisty woman who works assiduously to achieve the utopia of perfected self esteem (HEY, we all got dreams), yet the labyrinthine passageways that cut in and out of the exhibition booths threw me right off that path.  I could not contend with the pulsing, ornery crowds.   At every corner, I was knocked into, clearly  sized up by teems of fellow fair goers, gallerinas, collectors, and would-be elite.  It’s all so performative, theatrical, which seemed unusual until I realized I had gone from the sidelines (art historian) to a main participant in the art market game.

The Basel Blood Clot at fair's entrance.  In just moments, toes will be stepped on, glares will be shared, and an aggressive nudge will strike the unsuspecting

The Basel Blood Clot at fair's entrance. In just moments, toes will be stepped on, glares will be shared, and an aggressive nudge will strike the unsuspecting

In one weekend, I leapt from art appreciator to art speculator.  And so I became arthletic.  I confronted the Basel Bully head on.  I pushed back, got sassy with the gallery assistant who wouldn’t share a work’s price with me, and best of all, I remained positive, knowing that the market can only destroy the artist’s intention, the aura of the work, if I let it.

How would you carry yourself in the art market environment I described?  Would you be disenchanted by the money, the affluence, the art-as-object for purchase mentality?

**As a side note – and I’m ashamed to admit this, though not really –  I dropkicked some art.  That’s right, there was a work installed on the floor and when I walked across the exhibition space, I heard the sickening crunch of art under foot.  Crunchy, cracky, shattery, art explosion!  My quick reply to the jaws on the floor, “Sorrrry.  But it’s probably not safe for the art to be there.”  Classy, uber classee.

Blog Brand: Is Yours Crafting Comments?

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So, you’ve crafted a crappy brand name for your blog and now it’s a virtual ghost town, except the few lurking evil spirits that put their 2 cents in without fail.  What do you do now?  If it’s early in the game, go ahead and rebrand yourself quickly.  If rebranding means that you will:

  1. Confuse your followers;
  2. Require days re-establishing a consistent online presence (think about all those user profiles!), and;
  3. Lose the original intention and spirit of your blog.

Take a different route to set any misconceptions right.  That’s it, go ahead and write about it.  Use that blog.

Let me share a scenario.

I have a friend that through one experience and another grew bizarrely interested in the world of craft.  Trouble was that she is not really a crafter.  Nope, she — up until her blog — had never made anything useful with her own two hands.  Not a t-shirt.  Not a magazine holder.  Not a blog.  Naturally, in this respect, she viewed herself as “clueless.”  To dispel the assumption that she is clueless at everything, her brand needs some serious damage control.

  • Tip #1 Make a List of the Myths Circulating about Your Blog
  • Tip #2  Make a List Dispelling those Myths

Myth:  This blogger must be an idiot on all accounts, without education and direction.

Reality:  The Clueless Crafter believes that there is more reward involved in doing something that is not one’s first strength.  She believed her readers would enjoy the stories that come from a life lived on the other side of expertise, knowing that expertise can only come through experience.  On the other hand, she has 2 advanced degrees in art history and marketing, is a feisty athlete, and knows a gut busting laugh is a cure-all.

You get the idea.  If you were not able to communicate your brand from the outset, do not give up.  Be creative, be confident.   And, always be honest.

Showtime for The Clueless Crafter

I awoke this morning to two cups of burnt hotel coffee and the distinct sense that I had signed myself up for a very public execution. Not a second have I had to mentally rehearse how I will approach people I have never met about a website and topic that I, as of this morning, believe I have very little expertise in.  The pervading state of cluelessness that governs my mood is darkening my spirit, twisting my usual smile into a hyper extended turn southward.  I am in a funk.

I need to gripe a bit, hoping that I can shake off the devil of doubt that menaces my mind. I have been itinerant since June 26th attending three weddings in three weekends in three different states and in two geographical regions of the US, having neither a computer to work on or a private place that I can regroup.  I have caught a cold, reacted to something I ate, and am presently suffering from some ungodly sinus pressure.  During these weeks, I have slept on a futon; a twin bed attached to a suite shared by three other women; a friend’s couch; and, as of this past evening, a soggy mattress in a hotel room with an air conditioner that will only blow icy air — a sad fact for a person that needs to have a fan on in order to sleep, yet despises the cold.  I have lived on other people’s eating, sleeping, partying and relaxation schedules and I am fed up. More significantly, though, I have lost the sense of self that had convinced me of late that I had the power and right to explore the subject of craft, an area that I find intriguing, if only because I do not understand it.

Although tonight is the last wedding I will attend before heading back to NYC, I regret to declare that this good news probably won’t help me do what I need to do one short hour from now.  I am a busted brand holding a pile of flyers that days ago resembled burgundy gems, proverbial golden tickets.  And yet now they appear more like pieces of scrap paper found at the bottom of a waste basket, under steaming coffee grounds and to the left of the chicken bones.

Block Printing Bust

Back when the show I was interning on featured a segment on block printing table linens for a spring get together, I was taken with the apparent simplicity of the craft.  As they had reiterated on air, truly anyone could do this inspired project at home!  After all, I had (unlike the rest of the viewers) the great fortune of,  in the span of a single afternoon, seeing the cloth and matching napkins come to life in the studio’s craft room.  From what I was able to gather from the lead crafter’s super-cool confidence as she quietly plugged away at the linen’s repeating floral pattern was that the block printing technique must be inherently straightforward.  Never did she look flustered or irritated; rather, she was the very picture of composure and certainty.  Suddenly, I really wanted to be like her.  I could see within my very near reach, the oneness of spirit and hand that she truly appeared to have achieved.  If succeeding at block printing would offer me the same reward, nothing was going to stop me from doing it.

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Everything about my “craft room” screams of inexperience.

What I had not anticipated was the disparity between what I think the crafting process will involve and what it actually does involve.  Where it took the show’s crafter an afternoon, it took me a whole month from conception to completion.  Let me delineate the steps involved for this first-timer:

Block-Printed Cocktail Napkins How-To-Not According to a Novice

  1. Committ to the craft in mind and spirit.  Initially, this is exhilarating;
  2. Summon up the courage to not only publicly proclaim it will be done, but actually see the project through.  It’s easier to think it’s a great idea but never do it, right?;
  3. Locate a block on which to carve the design.  I used a Mastercarve eraser, which I located in the craft room’s trash;
  4. Decide what image to imprint onto the linen  (Wait, this should be step 3.  The block needs to have enough surface area to fit the design;
  5. Purchase or borrow linoleum cutting tools;
  6. Trace design with pencil; burnish the image onto the block;
  7. Select the color palette for the linens by purchasing or finding household linens to repurpose;
  8. Select fabric paint colors based upon the color scheme of the above selected;
  9. Set aside hours to carve design into block.  DO NOT pick a Scottish thistle (see image below) — the intricacy of the design will equate to many hours of carving frustration.  Someone should have a said as much!;
  10. Ensure that linens are washed and ironed.  If you live in the city as I do, take them to the cleaners and wait for them to be cleaned and pressed;
  11. Commence printing.  If using multiple colors for design, which I now regret, be sure to wash block thoroughly.  This takes time, but lack of patience will equate to a mixed color print.  What was supposed to be a white thistle quickly became pink. . .;
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Detail shot of a thistle

I bet you’re probably glad I’m not writing up the how-to’s of block printing after this! In my words, it seems unnecessarily complex.  As I see the process enumerated, however, I am only reminded of the lengthy process and of the obstacles I encountered along the way.  It is not my intention to discourage this activity, but it is my goal to illuminate the many layers of production involved in a single craft.  The directions that guided me, in retrospect, are now glaringly incomplete and totally unsympathetic to the needs of a novice crafter.  YET, anyone is supposed to be able to do this!  Let me just show you what served as my guide:

Block-Printed Table Linens How-To According to Craft Experts

  1. Print leaf and flower template. Trace over designs with a pencil. Carefully place paper, pencil-marked side down, on a Mastercarve artist-carving block.
  2. Rub the wide edge of a bone folder over paper to transfer the pencil-marked designs to carving blocks.
  3. Use a linoleum cutter with the V-shape attachment to carve the outline of the designs. Switch to a U-shape attachment to carve out larger areas around the designs.
  4. Apply a thin layer of transparent water-based fabric paint to the leaf block with a wide brush. Print on fabric with block, re-inking as needed.
  5. Print dogwood flower as you did the leaves.
  6. Let the fabric dry for about 15 minutes, and then set paint with an iron according to paint manufacturer’s instructions.

I am a smart woman.  I know that the primary goal is to market these craft projects as easy, fun, useful, engaging, and rewarding.  Unfortunately, when it comes to novices like you and me, it just may not be that straightforward.  Indeed, my esteem was not elevated by the many complications I encountered, especially when there was not the slightest mention of what may be a “wrong-to” and how that’s okay and how I should NOT feel bad and how I can correct the mistake.  I just felt alone, nothing like that adept crafter I saw in the craft room.  And, oh yeah, I guess I should mention that her job just may have been a little easier because a) Someone  had already collected the fabric paints, linens and tools for her; b) She had done this many times before with unlimited resources to make up for any errors she made; and c) This is the clincher:  she had all the support in the world, working for a successful company that specializes in all things craft.  Now, do you have that comfort?

Yes, I absolutely admire what this respectable company has done for aesthetics in America, basically creating a history of all things decorative for our children and grandchildren.  Impressive!!!  What I don’t admire is how in pursuit of this lofty ambition, the human element is neglected.  I, a self-proclaimed novice crafter, am looking to build myself up through craft.

When I finally finished the prints, I had destroyed 6 newly purchased linen napkins, permanently discolored my block,and  selected the wrong type of fabric paint.  In my opinion, the results were sub-par at best.  What elevated my lackluster performance, was the fact that I shared the story with you.

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The final product.  Admirable, yet rudimentary and a bit schlocky.

Mini Magazine Holder, Big Problems

In March, nearly three months after I had begun my internship for the much-lauded daytime show hosted by the guru of all  things domestic, I decided that it was time to face into my fears and begin to make things with my own hands.  I was working in the  show’s Art Department as a stylist and crafter (although, I mostly kept to the style side, by my own design), so it was time to gird the loins and get crafting.  I would baby step into it I concluded, only selecting projects that had few processes and required even fewer materials.  The simplest craft I could find was to construct a mini magazine holder, using mat board and a utility knife.  I had several digest-sized cooking mags hanging around, so this exercise had a real utilitarian value to it.  I could wrap my mind around that.

Let me first begin by saying that I naively believed that this project would be a breeze.  I knew what mat board was (what a plus; I hardly know what any materials and tools associated with crafting are) and I had a utility knife from hubby’s tool set.  Phew!  After I picked up a rather costly scrap of mat board from the framing center of a craft store in Long Island, I found that I had a big issue on my  hand.  The online template, a rather brilliant design by the Art Dept.’s director, intended to make the construction of the holder a no-brainer, was impossible to format for printing!  The directions said to “print at 200 percent” and tape the multiple pieces of letter paper together.  What the directions didn’t say is that you need to be a genius to figure out how to get the template to blow up seamlessly, that all the pieces match each other without losing any information.  Initially, I immediately dove to the conclusion that I was not cut out for this crafting stuff, and that some stay-at-home mom (agreed, loaded topic) in Frumpton Township, PA was at this moment effortlessly printing this out. Suddenly, all I could hear was that woman’s fancy, new Canon buzzing with activity, the look of satisfaction glued to her face, while my printer groaned, then flat lined.  Totally deflated.

I unwillingly admitted this defeat to my computer engineer husband in hopes that he’d pick up where I left off — at the beginning.  Thankfully enough, the next evening I heard him hard at work on the mysterious case of the non-printable, “printable” template.  Four hours, 16 wasted sheets of paper, and an empty ink cartridge later, I finally had a template to work with!  So you see, it wasn’t as easy as the directions had claimed!  I was not inept!!  This small victory, however, did not overshadow the looming reality that crafting seems to be a lot about trial and error, a very significant burden to those of us who are time and cash strapped.

Why in June, several months after my inital foray into the craft world, am I rehashing this event?  I think it was the moment when I, a not-too-crafty person, first tapped into the complexity and depth of the subject of craft and craft making.  Honestly, I just couldn’t fathom how this well-regarded company with dozens of talented craft experts in its employ would, with such extreme confidence, advertise at-home crafting as simple, cost-effective, and useful in our everyday lives!  Okay okayyyy, perhaps it behooves them to portray crafting as accessible to boost revenue of the company’s extensive product line of craft supplies at two of America’s big box retailers.  But still, I challenge that notion.

Surely, I must not be the only one who secretly longs to become a convert to craft, but doubts its real-world merit and her own capabilities? Sleuthing the net, I could find no support group for the clueless crafters, only clubs dedicated to the already devout.

Here’s my “club” to the those of us who want to learn how to craft with conviction, and how to put it to work within the context of our personal journeys.

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Hours in, formatting becomes a nightmare

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A rather smart-looking mag holder even with its mismatched edges.  I like the burgundy mat board, which I opted for instead of the white the basic white that was shown.  The white piping motif was a great accident; I never thought  that bending mat board would expose its white interior.

Magazine Holder How-To

  1. Download the template from our website and print at 200 percent. Print on multiple pieces of letter paper and tape together, if necessary.
  2. Temporarily secure template to mat board, using double-sided tape.
  3. Using a mat knife, cut through the solid lines of the template.
  4. Score on dotted lines with the mat knife by gently and carefully cutting halfway through board. (Tip: You may want to practice scoring on a piece of scrap mat board first.)
  5. Fold board at score lines, and form into the box shape. Glue the long, thin tab to the inside of the box with craft glue, squaring the box. Hold in place with a binder clip until dry.
  6. Fold all but the largest flap in to form the bottom. Spread craft glue on the bottom of the folded flaps, and fold the largest flap in to meet them, squaring the box as you do so. Place magazines or other weight inside the holder to keep in place until dry.

Career Networking in 2009

The past few weeks have been a whirlwind of career networking.  And by that, I mean two events.  But, yes, it was an amazing two events, full of  hope and pure delight.  If you asked anyone who attended the Big 10 Networking Event  at Tonic lounge in Times Square http://tonicbarnyc.com/media/tonicbarnointro.html last night, some who have been jobless since September 2008 and some who were laid off last week, they’d say that this is exactly where they pictured they’d be.  If you sense sarcasm, right on. The premise behind attending a networking “event” in a tanking economy is more like being invited to a child’s birthday party where the clown’s face is painted arsenic-white and he won’t stop heinously laughing — at you.  Actually, that clown probably got his job after several failed attempts on the career networking circuit.

Having just finished my Master’s degree a month ago, I’m a newbie to the career networking social hours that are held in abundance in this city.  I wasn’t quite sure what to expect, but I think I was looking more forward to meeting a fellow alum and striking up a friendship than I was to opening up the whole the-economy-is-in-the-crapper chit chat.  Within 30 seconds, I had a desperate gal from Ohio State talking economy with me.  She narrated just how bleak it was out there, all the while trying to assure herself and me that this was a spiritual awakening.  She was glad for such life-changing hardships.   Fear was all I registered and now I wasn’t feeling so peachy either.

Suddenly I couldn’t breathe.  She jabbed me in the stomach when I least needed it.  With my bicep still throbbing from the cr-injury I received at the wrath of the hot iron, I was feeling a bit torn up.  How the hell was I supposed to hand out those crafty, embossed business cards with any pride now?  I forced myself to make these with the networking event in mind, after all.  But I mean, people, it’s bad out there.  Did you know the economy is in the toilet?  Oh, you did? Well, I just wanted to remind you.

Once again the Cluelesscrafter.com is my secret.  The only reference to it is now languishing in the bottom of my fancy purse, waiting for the moment of determination to fire up the nerves. . . in my non-gimpy arm, of course.  Then I’ll go digging deep inside, brandishing that scrap of paper with the self-confidence of a woman who just made something of herself.  For herself.

Behind the Name

Technique:  Embossing

What better way to get The Clueless Crafter started than by making business cards?  I’ve been feeling a bit sheepish as of late when I mention that I’ve got The Clueless Crafter up and running, but can furnish no proof. Well, today was the day to validate this venture, make it truly official.  I must say that apprehension is the word that governs my mood today.  Not only because I really find the thought of crafting to be worse than having my teeth pulled, but because starting this blog gig is just plain terrifying.  Eh, I sucked it up for the benefit of all.  Here is what transpired.

Today’s crafting session, to be shamefully honest, began two months ago when I first visited Lee’s Art supply in NYC.  At that point I had decided that making embossed stationery was where it was at.  First of all, snail mail is the most effective, expedient mode of communication, is it not??  Having a charming set of handmade stationery, if never to be used, seemed a valid enough reason then to get started.  When I waltzed into Lee’s on that rainy day, I charged directly to the “embossing” section ready for some heavy-duty, at-home crafting.  To hell!  I soon realized I was seriously out of my element. Acrylic stamp mount? ummm.  With a grid on it, even better?  hmmm.  Can the embossing fluid refill for one brand be used on the stamp pad of another (I’m trying to cut cost here)?  If so, why does it say for “x” brand only?  Do they do that to trick the consumer or will it NOT work??  Come on, I need to know!!  This is going to cost a fortune, I thought.  Crafting takes a lot of tools, like a heat gun.  Yes, I’d need that to actually make my embossed image. Being clever, my mind flew to all the heat sources I already own. The iron?  Fancy toaster oven from my wedding registry?  Of course, my own darn hair dryer will do the trick if it simply stopped blowing air.  The heat gun I found cost $28.95, which for a newcomer to the crafting scene seemed a bit indulgent.  And how could I justify dropping that cash when I don’t have any income?  I shrugged my shoulders at the gun, hoping that I could patch together an appropriate heat source back home.  I left Lee’s with a disturbingly small bag of embossing tools for an equally disturbing cost.

My first attempt at embossing looked like the making of an ill-advised, impatient, and slightly cheap crafter.  Until today, I had ditched the whole embossing catastrophe, yet as the weeks have elapsed it has lingered as somewhat of a personal failure.  Thanks to a freebie I picked up from my internship, I now had a whole set of lettered stamps for embossing at my disposal.  This time around I could try this technique using legitimate tools, and at the handsome price of free.

I begrudgingly began the tedious process of cutting countless 8 x 5.5 cm cardstock rectangles for the business cards, making sure that the stamp that I had painstakingly set up letter-by-letter with my name on it would fit onto the cards.  All I kept thinking was how much paper, glue, embossing powder, and time I would waste in order to get ONE card made!  Actually, I quite doubted that I would even get one professional looking business card from this exercise, which at the time of this post is the fact.  Indeed, my second attempt seems to support that I could not hold down a job as a certified embosser.  Seems bleak, I know, but something rather humorous happened today, and I can’t wipe the smile off my face!  Why, you may ask?  People, you are looking at “Lybia Darry,” Clueless Crafter extraordinaire.  Yup, apparently working backwards on an acrylic stamp mount (shhh, I’m using an acrylic magnet that is not transparent, but god knows how expensive anything that has oil in it is!) is not my strength.  The only thing that my name suggests is that you can trust me to a) know one of the countries in Africa; b) be knowledgeable in all things dairy; or c) that my name both rhymes with a sexually transmitted disease and sounds a lot like a female body part.  What’s in a name?

I’ll be back. This time wielding a (heat) gun… I hope.

Lee’s Art Shop is across the street from the famous Art Students League.

Lee's Art Shop

The first attempt at embossing a greeting card, using a metal stencil, embossing glue refill bottle and an iron as my heat source. Would you like to receive this card in your mailbox?

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My first handcrafted business card.  Screams sophistication and competence.

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