I remember when being depressed meant more posts, longer posts, intense posts…
I remember when other people’s belief in privacy was not a stumbling block, when other people’s demands for me to not post about this, not post about that, not mention them at all on the blog did not come up at all, or came up so seldom that it didn’t impact me… the way I am impacted now.
I’ve basically stopped posting altogether anymore. I’ve almost entirely stopped telling people about my site, except to try to sell books, or art. Things I’ve never actually made sales of through the website, it turns out.
I’m working on going through and updating all the pricing on my art, trying to get to a price point where it starts moving again. I’ve been taking this Art Marketing class, and while I’m learning a lot about art marketing, it’s also largely depressing. For every two details I learn that might be useful for building my art into a profitable business, a third detail points out a new reason to believe that I have no business making and/or selling my art. I’m not making it for the right reasons, my techniques and vision are immature, my art is ego-centric, and on and on and this is part of why I haven’t created much new art in the last year or two: I’m conflicted, torn between wanting to create art for my own reasons, in my own way, and wanting to create art I can sell, and to change the way I create art to be compatible with the “realities of the marketplace” — and it’s frozen my brush.
I’m done putting together a new book of poetry, but it’s a little experimental in format, so I want to order one and see how it comes out before I make it available for purchase. You may or may not know, but I took about 10 days off work the week of my birthday (September 21st) and drove up and down the countryside. Up through Moab to SLC in Utah, across to Twin Falls, ID, then up to Boise, then across OR to Portland, then from Tillamook I took the coast highway all the way south to Oxnard, where I turned to go to Six Flags before heading home to Phoenix. And along the way, instead of snapping photographs (the same photographs millions of people take every year), I wrote poetry in a small notebook. And now I’ve put it together into a book you will be able to buy soon. Right after I proof that it’s reasonable quality to bother to sell, that is.
Alright, I’ve got to go to work. I’ll try to post more later.
Later. Sigh. I’ll try to post more this month.