It has been QUITE a week for Bear Hunt's production team...more commonly known as me, Mom, & Dad. It has definitely been a week to live out that whole "collaborative art" thing that I discussed in my last post.
Thanks to the tireless efforts and encouragement of my friends and family, I feel ready and excited for tomorrow's big Indie Arts & Music Festival (if you are somehow reading this and haven't already heard about it on Facebook, Twitter, bearhunt.etsy.com, or instagram...I congratulate you for being one of the few human beings who lives successfully off the grid). Just as a reminder/shameless plug, it's tomorrow from 10 a.m. - 3 p.m. at 4523 Woodlawn (also known as The Shoppes on Woodlawn - located in the Hillcrest neighborhood).
One more note that has popped into my tired brain...
How do you, as a person who creates, put a price on what you've created? I don't mean this in an immodest way, as if my art cannot be bought (ha!), but in an honestly inquisitive sort of way. I found it VERY difficult - how can I be appropriately humble about what I've created, in tune with the market, and aware of the proper value of my time/work/creativity?
Any thoughts are welcome. Like, seriously. Please. Because there's a reason I'm writing this at 4 a.m. - pricing was DIFFICULT!
Thank you :)
Friday, April 6, 2012
collaboration. It's a sort of communal buzz word, I think.
In my work of late, I have been privileged enough to experience a TON of collaboration. In fact, I would say it's a cornerstone of my work. It's almost unfailingly true that my ideas are benefitted by the input of another. And yet, this collaboration is a kind of double-edged sword.
There is something in us that so desires partnership with other people in our art. But there is another side of us that feels invalidated if anyone else has something to do with our work. I think the former is the "higher road" - that's the stance I'm trying to take, anyway. I know why the latter fact springs up in me: pride. Fear that I'm not a "real" artist. Desire for complete (and bitter) autonomy. Insecurity about what I can - or cannot - create on my own.
Collaboration is certainly my higher road. It makes for "higher art"...and it makes for a better me.
My favorite days are the ones where I'm outside with my drill press, thinking about what's next in the world of bear hunt...and I hear my dad come tromping down the stairs to help me.