Breaking up with my email newsletter (and new things)

Tldr: I’m ending my email newsletter in March. I’ll be starting something different on substack. I don’t know exactly what that will be like, but I’m hoping some of you would like to come on that journey with me. Whatever you decide, thank you for being here over the last 7 years. Sharing.This has been […]

A poetic response to objects

Almost all of my adult life has been engaged with thinking about objects: as an archaeologist, museum education officer, maker and now creative consultant working with craft practitioners. Wondering who made them and why, how they were used, what they say about people or the society they lived in. Contemplating how the materials used tell us about where people lived, the environments they found themselves in, how certain materials hold added value or show status. Objects are fascinating receptacles of thoughts and ideas, hopes and aspirations, they can show our true selves to the world. More recently, as my focus shifted from historical objects to contemporary ones, I revelled in the fact that you can ask the maker all the questions you like. Things which we may have to guess at for old objects we can learn easily now. The object is knowable in so many new ways and that is hugely exciting. I love to hear about how objects are made, where the inspiration comes from, how they came into being. These two approaches, historical and contemporary, are two sides of the same coin.

What is my creative practice?

Like many people, I’m using this quiet space at the beginning of the year to consider the state of things, to reflect on what went on in 2017 and to start putting together a very loose plan for 2018. I’ve been steadily working through guides and documents sent to me by people who advise and support creatives for a living, and having put together my own Creative Practice MOT course (which twenty lovely people are currently using) my head is filled with questions. Questions like ‘how do you feel about your creative practice?’ or ‘which of your services were most profitable in 2017?’ questions which may have definite answers or may lead to a vast place of unknowing…

4 tricks for writing an awesome artist’s statement in the 3rd person

It’s been a little while since we talked about writing-specific issues here on the blog, so I thought I’d return to something I’ve mentioned before and which I get asked about again and again – whether to write your artist’s statement in the 1st person or 3rd person. In my opinion it doesn’t matter which you choose so long as the writing suits the audience you are writing for and the work that you make (see my post on this topic). You can write a superb artist’s statement, that sounds professional and engaging, in either.

So, let’s assume you’ve thought about who and what the writing is for, and have decided which point of view works best for your work… and it’s the 3rd person. Now what? Here are some tips to help you get started and write that awesome artist’s statement.

Tell it ten ways: tips for writing social media promotion

So, you’ve got a show coming up, or maybe you’re just about to reveal a new collection. Perhaps you’ve updated your website or have an online shop to launch. Quite rightly, social media is going to be high on your list of ways to promote this event, but how to keep it from sounding rather same-y after a while, and saturating your audience with the same information?

The non-writing approach to writing

I am going to let you in on a secret here, one that is going to sound odd coming from someone who spends a lot of her time asking people to write more.  The thing is, to write about your work you don’t even have to write at all.

Artist’s statement dilemma: 1st person or 3rd person?

This seems to be a perennial problem for makers. Faced with having to write an artist’s statement, it can be hard to know what to do – use the 1st person ‘I’ or the 3rd person ‘she or he’. Lots of us have been given the advice that the 3rd person sounds more professional and that the 1st person sounds a bit ‘school project’, but I think that’s an over-simplification, and one which doesn’t help with the whole point of writing your artist’s statement: communicating about your work in the best possible way for your work.

Does your writing reflect your work?

I like to think of words as another material at your disposal. That the writing you create, about the things you make, is just as much your ‘work’ as the physical objects.  If we think of writing like this, then it makes sense that your writing should look and sound like the things you make- it should reflect your work.