I mentioned in my last post that I've been making and selling art lately, just on a small scale. For a while I had an Etsy shop, but to be honest no one actually used it; they just emailed me and said, "Hey, I want that picture of the dragon who thinks he's totally fabulous." And since I found it very tedious to list my items their way, follow their rules, and pay their listing fees, I've decided that blog-and-
facebook-page-and-email is the way to go.
Not that I'm knocking
Etsy. It's a fabulous marketplace for handmade goods, and I love that it's created a way for thousands of artists, artisans, and crafters to run their own businesses. I probably could have been successful if I'd taken the time to promote my work to the general Etsy-shopping public. But I prioritized my time in other places, so my customers have all been within one degree of separation. And I'm okay with that. Though I'm also okay with expanding.
Where, you might ask, did this fascinating art style come from? (Note: while you read this, please imagine it being spoken in an over-enthusiastic-storyteller voice. Bonus points for doing it out loud. Thank you.) Many years past, when I was but a youth - nay, barely more than a child - I worked at summer camp.
It was a place of great wonder and much physical activity... save for the annual ritual of Staff Training Week. During this time our young bottoms were consigned to the hard wooden floor of the lodge, our young ears listening attentively to the wisdom being imparted to us by older, wiser camp staff. And yea, though our minds were indeed absorbed by this important work, our fingers were free to fidget. And on one day of bright June sunlight (or, there again, perhaps it was a day of grim June rain), my fingers gripped a pencil and drew the outline of a cat upon the margin of my notes. And thereupon I proceeded to fill this cat not with fur and whiskers and mischief, but with shapes and lines and patterns and whimsy.
From that day forth my margins - whether at camp, or in the hallowed halls of university, or upon the
letters I wrote to my one true love - were filled with the shapes of animals. I learned to trace the curve of muscles without drawing their line. I learned to hint at markings without drawing fur. I learned, I hope, to capture the spirit of a creature without representing its true appearance.
And so, when many years had passed and an art store moved in across the road, and I discovered beautiful, textured papers there, and my one true love gifted me with proper pens, I used the lessons of my youth to create the art you see here in these images.
And none need ever know that I don't know how to properly draw and shade the animals' actual markings...
Okay, that was fun. Thanks for indulging me. It's been WAY to long since I blogged and I think it's running away with me.
So here comes the mercenary part: you can now check out my current stock of available drawings by clicking the button at the top of this page that says, "Art for Sale." If you like a piece and want to buy it, email me and let me know.
If you like a piece and don't want to buy it, you can say so in a comment and I'll enjoy that, too ;)
I usually accept payment through email transfer, but we can work out alternate methods if necessary. Local friends who want to meet up in person will get some quality hang-out time with me... and I'll also knock the $1.00 service charge off the price (making it $20.00 even).
Custom orders! I do those. You can pick any animal (or mythical creature, etc.) and I'll draw it. You can pick a material other than my usual watercolour paper and I'll draw on it. You can pick a size and shape other than 7" x 5" or 5" x 7". If we're going to get super complicated we may re-negotiate the price, but I'm sure we'll see the adventure through.
For years I've been thinking about transferring these drawings to fabric and sewing something amazing with them. I haven't been brave enough to try yet. You know when an idea is so shiny in your mind that you're really afraid you might have to watch it fail? Yeah.
Love you all!
Erin
