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I like to listen to podcasts while I work. I can't read, write or do anything too complicated whilst I listen but I do often scan and edit photos, knit or work on pieces of art that require fingers and time but not too much thinking. Quite a lot of Pelt - the latest pin piece - has been done to the accompaniment of podcasts.

Kirsty Hall - art, Pelt, Pin Sculpture
Kirsty Hall: Pelt, April 2007

Pelt in progress - photographed in April, back when the weather was nice enough that I could make art out in the garden, sigh.

One of my favourite creativity podcasts is Craftcast by Alison Lee. I just listened to the episode with arts business coach, Bruce Baker. I laughed out loud in several places when he touched on issues that have been repeatedly coming up for me recently. I love when the Universe gives you really obvious messages like this. OK Universe, I get it, I'm meant to be thinking about money, selling and learning to give up control of the bits that I'm not so good at!

As I say, I'd already been thinking about these things and I feel that I'm making some pretty big internal leaps in relation to how I feel about my art practice. For example, getting the website up has been a big thing: after years of failed attempts and dithering, I finally recognised that I needed to employ someone to design it or it just wasn't going to happen.

In a similar vein, I recently joined the Spike Island Associates Programme as a way of networking with other artists and overcoming the invariable isolation that comes with having a studio at home. I went to a private view there on Friday and then to an interesting talk yesterday by Lucy Skaer & Rosalind Nashashibi, who'd collaborated on a film together. The bit where they were talking about getting permission to film in the Metropolitan Museum in New York particularly resonated with me and it forcibly struck me last night that I'm now in the position where I should also be applying for funding and working with institutions who can give me more support than I've had previously. I suddenly feel that I'm ready for that and I know that my work is too. Inevitably perhaps, my own perception of my success as an artist is as much about these sudden internal jumps in confidence, as it is about external markers of success.

From the Behance website.

When you complete a list of action steps, your instinct might be to throw the list away. After all, the work is completed! However, some creative professional teams take a different approach; they relish their progress. Some go so far as surrounding themselves with it.

to-do

As a compulsive list maker, this photo made me laugh. I don't need to do this because I end up with finished pieces of art to remind me that I've completed things but I can certainly appreciate the motivation. I have been known to sneak things onto my to-do list after I've already done them just so I can have the reward of ticking them off. And for very special occasions - like launching the website - I use gold stars on my lists. The website was the first of my ten goals for 2007 to be completed so I crossed it off and put a gold star next to it. I'm so mature.

9 Reasons Why Every Artist Should Have Their Own Art Blog - a good article from the Empty Easel blog that covers all the bases. Link found on the always excellent ArtBizBlog. I hadn't come across the Empty Easel site before, I'm looking forward to reading the archives, it looks like there's lots of well thought-out stuff on there - I'm currently engrossed in the many articles about selling online.

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Since I'm not in America, I haven't seen the reality dance show in question, but I found this NY Times article* about what happens when someone who's a professionally trained dancer goes on one of these shows very thought-provoking.

"Even more disturbing is the idea that “So You Think You Can Dance” has emerged as a viable option for real dancers, including Mr. Tidwell, who don’t have to look far to see that career options have been greatly depleted. At its best, the show provides a kind of kicky fun, the good side of cheesy. But it’s also outdated and perpetuates many stereotypes about what constitutes good dance (speed is in, subtlety is out), what language is used to describe it and how training makes boring dancers...

...In one episode, Mr. Lythgoe declared: “What I dislike are dance snobs, and those are people who think you need a formal training with years and years of experience before you can be called a dancer.” He continued: “You don’t just need a formal training. It’s because you have a great feel for dance."

This anti-training stance bothers me. Yes, you can be a talented amateur in any field and you can choose to step outside formal training but the fact remains that you still need to practice if you're ever going to develop. No artist, in whatever medium, will get far without learning some relevant skills. Just as important is learning the language used in your field, especially if you want to be a professional. I'm not saying that everyone should go to college, but I do think that you need to get some input from someone who's further on than you, whether that's by taking classes, reading books or just going and looking at what they do and thinking about it a lot.

I do understand that there can be a problem with formal training - people sometimes get stuck just repeating what their tutor does and never finding their own voice. Sometimes this is because of bad teaching, sometimes it's because people get afraid to take their training wheels off, sometimes it's because they've genuinely gone as far as they're going to. But usually you can get beyond that point by continuing to work and practice, practice, practice. When you do, you'll usually find that you do eventually start to make some leaps on your own. There is a hideous part of learning when you've lost what Zen Buddhism calls 'beginner's mind' - that state where everything is new, exciting and wonderful and you sometimes make good stuff simply because you're fresh and innocent and don't know enough about the rules to be bound by them. But once you've learnt a little bit, you can get stuck, stilted and panicked because you can suddenly see just how crap you really are - the trick at that point is to doggedly keep going, keeping the faith that eventually, through practice, you'll get good again.

* You may need to register to read this article.

You can meet some fantastically talented people on the internet.

Cally over at Cally Creates has an amazing eye for colour and form, takes beautiful photographs and always seems to find wonderful artists to link to. I particularly admire the way she remains creative and inspiring despite having a chronic illness that severely limits her own art making.

cally-01.jpg

I love this simple but effective image from her latest post. You can see more of her photos over on her flickr.

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And we're live! I'm excited and may have to go and do a little dance around the kitchen whilst making a celebratory cup of tea (ah, the wild life of the bohemian artist!). Of course, I know that no one's likely to visit at this time on a Sunday night but that's OK, I'm just relieved to finally be finished.

And the blog has a name too - Up All Night Again - kindly suggested by my partner and picked because it pretty much sums up my art practice. Other suggestions that didn't quite make the cut:

Super Wanky - I wasn't being serious when I came up with this one
Look At Me, I'm Fabulous - Steve said that all blogs could basically be called that but oddly enough no one seems to have used it yet
Oh Bugger - can't remember whose bright idea that was but it made us all laugh, not very professional though!
The Bemused Muse - this was the only other serious candidate

I think you'll agree that I made the snappiest choice, although I'm still perversely fond of Look At Me, I'm Fabulous!

Wow, a brand new blog. After years of blogging in the comfy seclusion of Livejournal, it's more than a little strange to be out here in the wider internet. Right now I feel as though I've just moved house: after months spent painting the walls and moving the furniture around, now it's time to settle in with a cup of tea and make myself at home.

The site has been designed by my lovely friend Steve Taylor, who's done a smashing job with both the design and putting up with me changing my mind at frequent intervals. The boy deserves a medal!

You'll notice that there are no links on this page, we decided there just wasn't room so we've got an old-fashioned links page instead.

Anyway, I hope you'll take a look at my art and then stay around for the blogging. I'll be talking about my own art, posting photos, linking to art stories and highlighting interesting work by other artists.