Some things, and some other things, and me being pissed.

This past weekend, Nich and I went to Oklahoma City with his family for the ANNUAL MANUEL EASTER EGG HUNT. You read that right. (Sorry, I get a little excited that they have a name for their yearly easter egg hunt and family reunion.) There were eggs (of course), and cats, and gas station dinosaurs, and a lot of reading of awesome library books on the way there and back. We rented at least 25 books for the trip. I'm currently reading Pretty in Punk and Reinventing Comics by Scott McCloud simultaneously. Anyway, we had a fun trip, and Nich's family was as cool as ever. I'm pretty lucky to have married into a family I actually like in it's entirety. Aren't people supposed to dread family gatherings and meetings with in-laws? The Manuels are a pleasure to hang out with. I only wish I'd had more time to draw some of Aunt Cathy's incredible pig collection. I'm honestly a little obsessed with all her little flying pigs and pig themed housewares. Going to her house is like walking into an art installation. It's fantastic:D

When I got back from my awesome weekend, I returned to find that I had received a rejection letter from the INDIEana Handicraft Exchange. That's right, dear readers. My work is not cool/hip/polished/well designed/mustachey enough to get into my favorite craft fair. I was kind of devastated, despite trying to psych myself for what I told myself was a very likely rejection. The letter wasn't surprising, but it hurt a lot more than expected. Then upon further reflection, I realized I was angry and a little bitter over it. I know damned well if there are any ceramics at the fair (I've only seen some there once or twice) they will be simple glazed pottery, and nothing like what I make. But I don't draw walruses in top hats, or monkeys, or whatever else is considered hip these days - I draw brains and dead birds and drilling holes in my own head. I don't make pretty slip cast tableware with designer color glazes and clean lines - I make sloppy hand thrown cups with somewhat amateurish forms and mistakes. I guess it's just not that marketable.

I guess I just got pissed at the suggestion that I should come to the fair to do "market research" and get ideas for next time. As if I haven't been to nearly every event and am completely familiar with the kinds of work featured there. As if I'm going to change my work to fit what everyone else is making so that I can get in. SCREW THAT. I'm tired of agonizing over whether what I make will sell, and I'm tired of worrying that my work isn't like everyone else. I may reapply when I have new and different work to show, or more of it, but I'm not going to make work to fit their fair. If I'm not hip enough for them, I'll just stick to my Etsy and keep making what I want to make. Ugh.

Maybe when this wound is less fresh, I'll be less bitter and angry about this, but for the moment, I just needed to vent. In any case, ala Arthur Gonzalez, let this be the first of many many rejection letters, as I keep trying and applying for things - until someone finally says "You got in, congrats."

Finally, today I needed to draw something pretty and disturbing. I think it may work it's way into a series. I've got an idea in my head for a series of pretty girls mutilating themselves or bleeding or just physically self destructing to make clean graphic patterns and images - paisleys and damasks and other pleasant decorator patterns. I'm hoping to make it as graphic and grotesque as possible. Lots of blood and guts. Sounds like it would make a good dinner plate set.

Blame it on being pissed, and reading a book on girls and Punk.