Consistent with my resistance to following the ways of the sheeple, I attempted to relay my very simple, non-flashy, old-school design idea for my business cards to the digtal native behind the counter at the print shop:

“I know exactly what I want, and it’s really simple. Black letters on white paper.”

“Oh, that is simple.”

“And I want that old-school raised lettering.”

“Oh, do you mean thermography or embossing?”

(She shows me examples of both. Embossing is too expensive so I go with thermography.)

“Oh, and one more thing. I want a little paint brush with drips of paint off the tip that form the “s” in my name.”

“Our graphic artists charge $60 per hour and they can design that for you.”

“Can’t I just draw it for you? I know exactly how I want it to look.” (I quickly sketch a little paint brush on her note pad.)

“Do you have a design program on your computer?”

“Ditch the paintbrush idea.”

Done. Well … after I chose from 5 different shades of white and about 1,500 fonts.  I guess there is only one shade of black.


Word of the Day

I would have nothing to write about if it weren’t for all of the funny things that other people say.

Like “sheeple.”

Apparently I have missed the usage of this noun in discussions about how human behavior compares to that of sheep. People, like sheep, follow the leader:  sheeple.  Who is the leader? The media; fashion (media); our media influenced peers. We are herded in masses by mass producers.

We are sheeple.

Well I don’t want to be a (insert appropriate singular form of “sheeple”).  That means I don’t want to write my artist’s biography in the third person, and I don’t want to answer questions about what my art means.

Will I sell less art if my answer to “what does this symbolize” is “it means I had some extra wire laying around my garage?”

Do I have to be a (insert appropriate singular form of “sheeple”) to pull off a successful show?

Did I paint with poop?

To begin chronicling my efforts to turn my art into a business of sorts, complete with business cards, catchy slogans and marketing strategies, I offer this glimpse into the degradation that results from selling one’s art to the mass market.

I am gearing up for my first solo exhibition with the guidance and generous help of my friends, Andrea and Shawna.  It was Andrea’s idea. She is a goal setter extraordinaire.  The initial goal was 10 paintings and 10 sculptural pieces by summer 2011. Well we were presented with an opportunity that we couldn’t pass up: Stanislaus County is hosting an Artists’ Open Studio tour in April. What better time to unveil my show? Now my goal is to get as much art done as I can by April.

I digress.

You were expecting to read something about poop paintings.

I have done my homework, or most of it anyway. I updated my website (; I made my price list, my invitation list and began writing my artist’s biography. Today I began to design my business cards, and I thought this might be the time to employ the aforementioned catchy slogan. To remain consistent with my biography, which says “I’ve been painting since I was born” (albeit more eloquently and with numerous frivolous adjectives), I thought my business card could say “since 1974” (the year I was born). Is this stupid? I thought I should bounce it off my favorite sounding boards, my friend and goal setter, Andrea, and my better half, Gavin.

“You won’t hurt my feelings,”  I texted, “I just need to know if this sounds stupid…”

Gavin responds, “Were you painting on the walls with your poop (in 1974)?”

Good point.

He proceeds to offer serious ideas such as “pursing the arts since 1974” and “perfecting my craft since 1974,” after which I suggested “moving around paint since 1974,” which rightfully elicited his final suggestion: “slinging crap since 1974.”


And perhaps I should leave the catchy slogan creating to someone else.