... how terrible it must have been to be Mary Cassatt.
"Hey, Mary," the other Impressionists might have said to her, "we're off to the Folies-Bergere. All of us. Except you. Enjoy keeping your ankles hidden alone all evening."
I detect much less rage in her work than it feels like there should be ...
I wonder about Christina Rossetti too, as the major female Pre-Raphaelite Brother (a number which, incidentally, also sort of included Emily Dickinson -- and if anyone is interested to read about that I shall make M do a guest post, it's fascinating stuff). Also incidentally, did you know there were four Rossettis? Dante Gabriel, Christina, and then William Michael and Maria Francesca -- William Rossetti was a historian and Maria Francesca was an Anglican nun, translator and literary critic. It kind of sucked to be any member of the Rossetti family except for Dante Gabriel -- their mother was John Polidori's sister but no one knows about that, the two other siblings get almost no attention even on Wikipedia, and then there's Christina. "Have a nice night, Sis; the rest of the Pre-Raphaelites are going carousing after the meeting. Without you. Enjoy minding the wallaby."
At least in her case I can imagine her hand vibrating with fury as she dedicated Goblin Market.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Friday, May 6, 2011
This is a thing.
Today, I finished my makeup (I wear makeup now; I deserve praise for this, even though it's only powder/blusher), put my eyes back on, looked in the mirror, and said, "Oh, God, I'm dressed like an Etsy seller today."
Not sure why this occurs. Dark jeans, black sweater, brightly colored necklace, thrift-store Mary Janes, and my hair styled in its usual manner (i.e., run a brush through it, drag in a stretchy headband, pretend the Hermione-esque waviness and body were deliberate). Admittedly, the headband today is a cheap mass-produced one that I bought for four dollars at Ross, because ethical all-handmade consumption is not actually all that affordable, but people ask me all the time if I made it. So there's that.
And yet somehow, all it needs to be the perfect "artsy-artist commie weirdo look," as I described it to M, is a beret. I do have a beret. It's wool and from the 50s and slightly mothnibbled on one side, and it fits my big head, and I love it, and I am still slightly ashamed because my grandfather picked it up at a yard sale about six or seven years ago, and I plucked it off his head and stole it from him.
Is an interest at costuming prerequisite for this?: I always feel most confident when dressed to a theme. I rarely think of a theme when I am actually dressing. But if I glance in the mirror and go "Dude -- I just walked out of a Degas painting," or "Wow -- poor bohemian at a job interview much?", I feel better about my clothing choices. This is part of the reason steampunk appeals to me so much; it gives me a clear self-presentation that doesn't preclude any of the clothes I love, like "gypsy" skirts (yes, I know that's racist) or shirtwaists or military jackets or hell, even blue jeans.
I was going to wear my new fedora, a gorgeous creation in heather-grey tone-on-tone polka dots with trim and feathers, but M said "Artsy hipster is artsy!" so I took it off. Maybe Monday.
Available here.
Not sure why this occurs. Dark jeans, black sweater, brightly colored necklace, thrift-store Mary Janes, and my hair styled in its usual manner (i.e., run a brush through it, drag in a stretchy headband, pretend the Hermione-esque waviness and body were deliberate). Admittedly, the headband today is a cheap mass-produced one that I bought for four dollars at Ross, because ethical all-handmade consumption is not actually all that affordable, but people ask me all the time if I made it. So there's that.
And yet somehow, all it needs to be the perfect "artsy-artist commie weirdo look," as I described it to M, is a beret. I do have a beret. It's wool and from the 50s and slightly mothnibbled on one side, and it fits my big head, and I love it, and I am still slightly ashamed because my grandfather picked it up at a yard sale about six or seven years ago, and I plucked it off his head and stole it from him.
Is an interest at costuming prerequisite for this?: I always feel most confident when dressed to a theme. I rarely think of a theme when I am actually dressing. But if I glance in the mirror and go "Dude -- I just walked out of a Degas painting," or "Wow -- poor bohemian at a job interview much?", I feel better about my clothing choices. This is part of the reason steampunk appeals to me so much; it gives me a clear self-presentation that doesn't preclude any of the clothes I love, like "gypsy" skirts (yes, I know that's racist) or shirtwaists or military jackets or hell, even blue jeans.
I was going to wear my new fedora, a gorgeous creation in heather-grey tone-on-tone polka dots with trim and feathers, but M said "Artsy hipster is artsy!" so I took it off. Maybe Monday.
Available here.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Watch This Space: Writing Workshop Live-Blog
Since this seems like a Scribblegoat sort of thing, I will be live-blogging tonight's Etsy Success Writing Workshop in comments to this post.
I expect to be mildly critical, if only because I first heard about it through Regretsy, but I was surprised to find that their worksheet is exactly what I would have made -- the first half, anyway. You can download a PDF of the worksheet from the link above. The last question, the first-person narrative from the object's point of view, left me going "Really? Really." and seems to belong in much more artistic venues than even the handmade business world -- the goal here is evoking emotion in order to sell, not evoking emotion for the sake of it. But the first two are good questions: 1.) List three cliches from Etsy site copy you're tired of and rewrite one in a fresh and interesting manner, and 2.) take two pages of writing about yourself or your work and reduce it to Tweet length. That's exactly what I recommend to my copywriting customers and to my college students.
The problem I expect is that the Etsy business model is sort of painfully whimsical, and I think that divorcing and developing the "business self" independently from the "creative self" is one of the best things a handmade-seller-cum-copywriter can do for him- or herself.
Anyhow, I'll be blogging about the Livestream feed with a probable combination of professional opinion and snark, starting tonight at seven o'clock Eastern, so watch this space!
UPDATE: Am now blogging! Click the comments below.
I expect to be mildly critical, if only because I first heard about it through Regretsy, but I was surprised to find that their worksheet is exactly what I would have made -- the first half, anyway. You can download a PDF of the worksheet from the link above. The last question, the first-person narrative from the object's point of view, left me going "Really? Really." and seems to belong in much more artistic venues than even the handmade business world -- the goal here is evoking emotion in order to sell, not evoking emotion for the sake of it. But the first two are good questions: 1.) List three cliches from Etsy site copy you're tired of and rewrite one in a fresh and interesting manner, and 2.) take two pages of writing about yourself or your work and reduce it to Tweet length. That's exactly what I recommend to my copywriting customers and to my college students.
The problem I expect is that the Etsy business model is sort of painfully whimsical, and I think that divorcing and developing the "business self" independently from the "creative self" is one of the best things a handmade-seller-cum-copywriter can do for him- or herself.
Anyhow, I'll be blogging about the Livestream feed with a probable combination of professional opinion and snark, starting tonight at seven o'clock Eastern, so watch this space!
UPDATE: Am now blogging! Click the comments below.
Treasury Wednesday: Back to the steampunk oddities again
I've been really entertained by all the different interpretations featured sellers have had of the title of this one. It was actually referring to one of M's new tabletop characters, whose name graces that purple shell bridal set; it's another steampunk game, and the girl is in a relationship of which her guardian would not approve. Hence the title. Other people's interpretations have been rather more interesting, though, I think.
Lots of interesting traditional art:
Time; beauty; quirkiness; corrosion.
Lots of interesting traditional art:
'Don't Tell Grandmother' by tangopig
Time; beauty; quirkiness; corrosion.
 BRASS Sunburst Hair... $10.00 |  Original Mixed Medi... $23.00 |  She Is Mine - Victo... $ |  Dolls, photo postca... $12.00 |
 ON SALE 40% OFF Yos... $58.80 |  In Memory Of $98.00 |  Factory Farmer 8x1... $25.00 |  Vintage Inspired Ta... $6.00 |
 Black Mini Top Hat ... $58.00 |  VICTORIAN ADVENTURE... $89.00 |  NEW Lower Price & B... $7.00 |  Steampunk MAGICAL C... $29.99 |
 REAL CLEARANCE -Vin... $5.00 |  Miss Riga- Long Lux... $38.00 |  SALE Eye SEE YOU EY... $35.00 |  ROTTEN ROW Illustra... $ |
Treasury tool is sponsored by Lazzia.com A/B image testing.
Monday, May 2, 2011
A photo discovery
M and I have been having some mild friction lately over item photos in the Ballet Llama shop. See, some of the items we've been listing? Hyper-mini:
And unfortunately, at a large size, the details that are exquisite in person (seriously; her tiny fairy doors are out of this world) become a little blobby and odd. The ones with parallel or concentric details are worst for it, but the photo layout on Etsy requires them to be blown up to about five times actual size, unless I take a mediocre distance shot, and every crumb of clay is blindingly obvious. Furthermore, the photos, if cropped to squares, fill the entire screen and can't be seen simultaneously with the text. (Have I mentioned I miss the narrower, older layout?)
In this listing, you can see where I've been doing some experimenting, and at last I think I've found the key. In Picasa, I crop to 170x135 pixels, then export in full quality at 570 pixels. The last photo in the bracelet linked above shows the result.
It's still mildly problematic in terms of the item photo being seen at a size you'd need Super Magnifiable Vision to see in person, but the cropping can center and emphasize the item without making it quite such a large percentage of the image area.
So, success! Now back to trying to work out a good way to freeze bolting cilantro.
And unfortunately, at a large size, the details that are exquisite in person (seriously; her tiny fairy doors are out of this world) become a little blobby and odd. The ones with parallel or concentric details are worst for it, but the photo layout on Etsy requires them to be blown up to about five times actual size, unless I take a mediocre distance shot, and every crumb of clay is blindingly obvious. Furthermore, the photos, if cropped to squares, fill the entire screen and can't be seen simultaneously with the text. (Have I mentioned I miss the narrower, older layout?)
In this listing, you can see where I've been doing some experimenting, and at last I think I've found the key. In Picasa, I crop to 170x135 pixels, then export in full quality at 570 pixels. The last photo in the bracelet linked above shows the result.
It's still mildly problematic in terms of the item photo being seen at a size you'd need Super Magnifiable Vision to see in person, but the cropping can center and emphasize the item without making it quite such a large percentage of the image area.
So, success! Now back to trying to work out a good way to freeze bolting cilantro.
Friday, April 29, 2011
Jewelry Sets and Busy-ness
I've become a lot bolder about listing coordinating items separately of late. My bridal jewelry all links to the rest of the collection in the listing, since those are intended to be sort of infinitely mix-and-match. Lately, I also listed this set:
Available here and here. Sold!
That ... is a weird piece. I have to say it. It's really odd. Even more disparate materials than I usually combine, which, with me, is saying something. It would be awesome to layer with a longer piece, though, a pendant on a very long cord maybe? I haven't done a lot of A.) chokers or B.) multistrand before, though I've done a good few of the latter lately.
And I'm fond of the earring photo; I think I managed the depth of field and dimensionality, what with turning the pot that the earrings hang in toward the light and away from the camera, which makes them a little more interesting. Not sure it's visible at the teaser size, though. Hmm.
Also, since I originally wrote this post, the set has sold. Obviously I'm not the only one who likes it!
I always consider jewelry sets to be an excellent gift -- coordinating necklace-earrings, bracelet-pendant, pendant-earrings-bracelet or what-have-you vastly increases the perceived value. However, I'm getting more confident about breaking up jewelry sets listing-wise because I often sell them that way in person, with someone wanting just the necklace but not having pierced ears, preferring studs, or not caring for the pendant but liking the color combination and so purchasing the matching bracelet alone. Things like that. It's only twenty cents more for me, and it takes my customers to the Priority-shipping upgrade faster, so I think this is actually better. Thoughts from the reader pool?
On another note, we've just finished out the semester at the tech college, and in the sudden glut of free time and M-is-home time I've had a couple of stupidly productive days. We're still decorating the house, the garden flourishes, and I made hamburgers with homegrown spinach on them last night. The Japanese maple looks like the Japanese maple. The English primrose and daisies are not terribly happy, which is not unexpected, but my Oscar milkweed, liatris, and (shockingly) trout lilies are all remarkably happy. The Jack-in-the-pulpit died but it's been the only thing to croak out of season so far. More topically, I've made approximately a thousand charm bracelets, two with bits of miniature tea set and three with buttons, including my weird but somehow trademark combination of plastic buttons with pearls. We're discussing having all our work friends over for traditional British tea and jewelry-showing sometime next month.
For those interested, I'm selling off much of my collection of vintage hematite in the Ballet Llama storefront. There are also some nice hard-to-find charms there. Get 'em while the getting's good!
It's hot, but life is nice right now.
That ... is a weird piece. I have to say it. It's really odd. Even more disparate materials than I usually combine, which, with me, is saying something. It would be awesome to layer with a longer piece, though, a pendant on a very long cord maybe? I haven't done a lot of A.) chokers or B.) multistrand before, though I've done a good few of the latter lately.
And I'm fond of the earring photo; I think I managed the depth of field and dimensionality, what with turning the pot that the earrings hang in toward the light and away from the camera, which makes them a little more interesting. Not sure it's visible at the teaser size, though. Hmm.
Also, since I originally wrote this post, the set has sold. Obviously I'm not the only one who likes it!
I always consider jewelry sets to be an excellent gift -- coordinating necklace-earrings, bracelet-pendant, pendant-earrings-bracelet or what-have-you vastly increases the perceived value. However, I'm getting more confident about breaking up jewelry sets listing-wise because I often sell them that way in person, with someone wanting just the necklace but not having pierced ears, preferring studs, or not caring for the pendant but liking the color combination and so purchasing the matching bracelet alone. Things like that. It's only twenty cents more for me, and it takes my customers to the Priority-shipping upgrade faster, so I think this is actually better. Thoughts from the reader pool?
On another note, we've just finished out the semester at the tech college, and in the sudden glut of free time and M-is-home time I've had a couple of stupidly productive days. We're still decorating the house, the garden flourishes, and I made hamburgers with homegrown spinach on them last night. The Japanese maple looks like the Japanese maple. The English primrose and daisies are not terribly happy, which is not unexpected, but my Oscar milkweed, liatris, and (shockingly) trout lilies are all remarkably happy. The Jack-in-the-pulpit died but it's been the only thing to croak out of season so far. More topically, I've made approximately a thousand charm bracelets, two with bits of miniature tea set and three with buttons, including my weird but somehow trademark combination of plastic buttons with pearls. We're discussing having all our work friends over for traditional British tea and jewelry-showing sometime next month.
For those interested, I'm selling off much of my collection of vintage hematite in the Ballet Llama storefront. There are also some nice hard-to-find charms there. Get 'em while the getting's good!
It's hot, but life is nice right now.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Treasury Wednesday: Denim Blue, Sunshine Yellow, Grape Green
Another treasury inspired by its own top photo. I was almost done when I realized I'd replicated the color scheme my parents used around their swimming pool back in California.
A treasury entirely inspired by my need for bright colors to keep me awake at work.
'Livening Up a Friday Morning' by tangopig
A treasury entirely inspired by my need for bright colors to keep me awake at work.
 Vinyl Wall Sticker ... $48.90 |  Lucky Bamboo Leaves... $12.00 |  Macrame Friendship ... $10.00 |  Blue Platter Mantou... $50.00 |
 Oh Happy Day - Blan... $4.50 |  SALE - Entire Shop ... $16.00 |  Denim Darcie in Sun... $14.50 |  Bright Bird, Rainy ... $36.00 |
 Dainty Flowers and ... $2.95 |  Spring Summer Blue ... $15.00 |  Fun Valentine Blue ... $25.00 |  Marbled Flowers 12 $44.00 |
 Birds of a Feather ... $5.00 |  Bouquet Earrings $20.00 |  Blue Birdman in a B... $100.00 |  Blue, Green, and Ye... $10.00 |
Treasury tool is sponsored by Lazzia.com A/B image testing.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Disappointments and Blessings
I ventured back into the Etsy Forums the other day.
This was a mistake.
See, I had this flash of inspiration: Since the entire function of the Etsy Forums is to self-promote to other sellers (which I have always found to be a losing game, but others disagree), I would go along to the "Critiques" section and, using my Scribblegoat account but not rudely or blatantly advertising, offer free, helpful professional advice to the legions of people asking the community to critique their shops/descriptions. This would, with professional propriety and helpfulness, put the name of my business before those who were already seeking similar services. I hasten to assure my sighing readers: From my experience of the forums, this seemed a genuinely excellent plan.
Problem number one was immediately apparent: Recently (to judge from the complaint threads still fresh and full of vim), the Critiques and Promotions sections were phased out.
However, people were still posting the questions, just under "Site Help." I proceeded with my plan. Then I realized that a significant number of the threads were starting with "Five Ways to Make Sales," "Ten Ways to Improve Photographs," "How My Dog's Shop Made 18 Sales in Its First Month," etc. Cool! I made one linking to my word-choice series.
Half an hour later, I checked back. 14 comments! I was thrilled.
And then I read them.
A couple of polite thanks, made me feel great. Then these:
"I noticed you're really new here, do you have another shop somewhere where you've sold a lot of things based on your descriptions? Otherwise, I'm not sure how useful I would consider this information."
"Honestly I don't think people totally read the descriptions. It has been my experience that I'm answering questions that were answered in my descriptions."
"Please don't start threads made to bring attention to your blog. Offering suggestions on how to help make one's business successful is awesome, but please share most of that content here when you're doing so to prevent us from viewing the thread as a promotional one."
These don't seem as bad on the second read, but at the time, they were a slap in the face. The first made me angry. The articles themselves and every single element in my Scribblegoat shop -- including the descriptions themselves -- make it very obvious that I'm both a qualified writer and an experienced seller under the TangoPig account; this person didn't actually look at anything. They apparently took the barest of glances solely so they could tell me my hours of work were useless information, and I didn't know what I was doing. (Also? Comma splice. Yes, I'm petty.) The second one is more dismissive than I would be willing to be, but actually makes me laugh, since it is proved by the one above it.
And the last one is from an Etsy moderator and locked the thread.
I acknowledge that Etsy has a right to keep content primarily on the site itself; I'm good with this. But this does require, for the sake of the most basic standards of professionalism, that they either A.) have a posted rule about it in the FAQs, or B.) follow the damn links to see where they actually go -- because it's blindingly obvious from a click that that's not my blog.
It's not a big deal, and I know this, but it depressed me for the rest of the day. And yet -- that's also how I feel pretty much every time I visit the forums. It's this great groaning chorus of "Etsy sucks because of this," "And also because of this," "My customers are awful," "I'm ahead of the rat race, let me condescend to the fellow rats," "I'm the only honest seller here," "The rules were formulated to make life hard for me," and on and on and on and on ...
Yet -- even though the Etsy venture isn't going where I hoped, even though people have been cruel and dismissive about my extensive qualifications and generally made me feel like shit -- I do this for a living. I work in a great writing center where there's tons of support, I make pretty good money and learn interesting things. Even if I'm not freelancing it yet, I get to do this as a job. And the job isn't just editing other people's work, it's also doing my own -- I spend a couple of hours writing descriptions and blog posts every week, and my Etsy shop pays for itself now, though I know I'm still years from making back the startup supply costs.
Furthermore, I say "not freelancing yet" -- but I'm not sure what criteria I'm giving myself, because as of now? I've had three commissions, totalling a pretty respectable wage for a weekend off.
So I have much for which to be grateful, and with that in mind -- the slap in the face from trying to engage with the Etsy community? Small fry.
This was a mistake.
See, I had this flash of inspiration: Since the entire function of the Etsy Forums is to self-promote to other sellers (which I have always found to be a losing game, but others disagree), I would go along to the "Critiques" section and, using my Scribblegoat account but not rudely or blatantly advertising, offer free, helpful professional advice to the legions of people asking the community to critique their shops/descriptions. This would, with professional propriety and helpfulness, put the name of my business before those who were already seeking similar services. I hasten to assure my sighing readers: From my experience of the forums, this seemed a genuinely excellent plan.
Problem number one was immediately apparent: Recently (to judge from the complaint threads still fresh and full of vim), the Critiques and Promotions sections were phased out.
However, people were still posting the questions, just under "Site Help." I proceeded with my plan. Then I realized that a significant number of the threads were starting with "Five Ways to Make Sales," "Ten Ways to Improve Photographs," "How My Dog's Shop Made 18 Sales in Its First Month," etc. Cool! I made one linking to my word-choice series.
Half an hour later, I checked back. 14 comments! I was thrilled.
And then I read them.
A couple of polite thanks, made me feel great. Then these:
"I noticed you're really new here, do you have another shop somewhere where you've sold a lot of things based on your descriptions? Otherwise, I'm not sure how useful I would consider this information."
"Honestly I don't think people totally read the descriptions. It has been my experience that I'm answering questions that were answered in my descriptions."
"Please don't start threads made to bring attention to your blog. Offering suggestions on how to help make one's business successful is awesome, but please share most of that content here when you're doing so to prevent us from viewing the thread as a promotional one."
These don't seem as bad on the second read, but at the time, they were a slap in the face. The first made me angry. The articles themselves and every single element in my Scribblegoat shop -- including the descriptions themselves -- make it very obvious that I'm both a qualified writer and an experienced seller under the TangoPig account; this person didn't actually look at anything. They apparently took the barest of glances solely so they could tell me my hours of work were useless information, and I didn't know what I was doing. (Also? Comma splice. Yes, I'm petty.) The second one is more dismissive than I would be willing to be, but actually makes me laugh, since it is proved by the one above it.
And the last one is from an Etsy moderator and locked the thread.
I acknowledge that Etsy has a right to keep content primarily on the site itself; I'm good with this. But this does require, for the sake of the most basic standards of professionalism, that they either A.) have a posted rule about it in the FAQs, or B.) follow the damn links to see where they actually go -- because it's blindingly obvious from a click that that's not my blog.
It's not a big deal, and I know this, but it depressed me for the rest of the day. And yet -- that's also how I feel pretty much every time I visit the forums. It's this great groaning chorus of "Etsy sucks because of this," "And also because of this," "My customers are awful," "I'm ahead of the rat race, let me condescend to the fellow rats," "I'm the only honest seller here," "The rules were formulated to make life hard for me," and on and on and on and on ...
Yet -- even though the Etsy venture isn't going where I hoped, even though people have been cruel and dismissive about my extensive qualifications and generally made me feel like shit -- I do this for a living. I work in a great writing center where there's tons of support, I make pretty good money and learn interesting things. Even if I'm not freelancing it yet, I get to do this as a job. And the job isn't just editing other people's work, it's also doing my own -- I spend a couple of hours writing descriptions and blog posts every week, and my Etsy shop pays for itself now, though I know I'm still years from making back the startup supply costs.
Furthermore, I say "not freelancing yet" -- but I'm not sure what criteria I'm giving myself, because as of now? I've had three commissions, totalling a pretty respectable wage for a weekend off.
So I have much for which to be grateful, and with that in mind -- the slap in the face from trying to engage with the Etsy community? Small fry.
Friday, April 22, 2011
"Asian Inspired" and its moral implications, or, Why Orientalism is Bad, Kids
So I just realized that my setup in this photo makes it look like the charms are sliding over a cliff to their certain doom.
That's okay; it sold last November. Anyhow.
It occasionally troubles me to create Asian-inspired designs. However, the following things always and without fail suggest Asia to me:
The thing is -- I took Art History with a global emphasis and Artists in Traditional China in school -- the latter in seminar under Cheng-chi Hsü, one of the world's foremost experts on Chinese painters and their relationships with art connoisseurs. I spent that class reading the UCR library's entire extensive section about Yangzhou courtesans so I could roleplay a courtesan novelist for the final project. And this was after I abandoned, as beyond me without the ability to read Chinese script, a paper about the transgressive gender presentation of the painter-poet. I am as educated on the matter of Asian art as most amateurs can claim to be. Why do I always have this guilty feeling when I'm as qualified as most Westerners to identify Asian motifs?
But that requires me to think of myself as a Westerner, which is a problem in and of itself, and it goes back to that old linguistic problem of the Orient and the Occident.
Available here.
Basically, the word "Oriental" means "from somewhere else." It means, basically, "Them." "Those people." "The others." To refer to someone as an Oriental is literally to say "the person who is deeply unlike me." (This is why, in the Age of Steam, North Africans and Gypsies were called "orientals," though the term is usually specific to the continent of Asia today).
To call oneself a Westerner or Occidental assumes a geographical position; it says, "Of course this is the West and that the East. Anyone who matters is standing right here, where it's true."
So true, Mr. Munroe. So true.
So for the moment, I continue to soothe my conscience by using the terms "Asian" and "tribal," but being specific in descriptions ("motifs taken from Chinese scrolls," "suggested by the shapes of West African hunting trophies") and tagging with "asian inspired" and "tribal inspired." The butterfly necklace up above is called "Papillon Orientaliste" -- the Orientalist butterfly, not the Oriental -- because I am trying to suggest an item created with elements that construct a reflection of a worldview of "the exotic" (there's an unwieldy construction), not that there actually is an Other to refer to by this term.
Possibly this is still morally corrupt, but it keeps me feeling honest, and I still think that's important.
That's okay; it sold last November. Anyhow.
It occasionally troubles me to create Asian-inspired designs. However, the following things always and without fail suggest Asia to me:
- peonies/ranunculus/large floral patterns
- cloisonne
- fish
- jade
- strong black/red, blue/red, or black/green color palettes
The thing is -- I took Art History with a global emphasis and Artists in Traditional China in school -- the latter in seminar under Cheng-chi Hsü, one of the world's foremost experts on Chinese painters and their relationships with art connoisseurs. I spent that class reading the UCR library's entire extensive section about Yangzhou courtesans so I could roleplay a courtesan novelist for the final project. And this was after I abandoned, as beyond me without the ability to read Chinese script, a paper about the transgressive gender presentation of the painter-poet. I am as educated on the matter of Asian art as most amateurs can claim to be. Why do I always have this guilty feeling when I'm as qualified as most Westerners to identify Asian motifs?
But that requires me to think of myself as a Westerner, which is a problem in and of itself, and it goes back to that old linguistic problem of the Orient and the Occident.
Available here.
Basically, the word "Oriental" means "from somewhere else." It means, basically, "Them." "Those people." "The others." To refer to someone as an Oriental is literally to say "the person who is deeply unlike me." (This is why, in the Age of Steam, North Africans and Gypsies were called "orientals," though the term is usually specific to the continent of Asia today).
To call oneself a Westerner or Occidental assumes a geographical position; it says, "Of course this is the West and that the East. Anyone who matters is standing right here, where it's true."
So true, Mr. Munroe. So true.
So for the moment, I continue to soothe my conscience by using the terms "Asian" and "tribal," but being specific in descriptions ("motifs taken from Chinese scrolls," "suggested by the shapes of West African hunting trophies") and tagging with "asian inspired" and "tribal inspired." The butterfly necklace up above is called "Papillon Orientaliste" -- the Orientalist butterfly, not the Oriental -- because I am trying to suggest an item created with elements that construct a reflection of a worldview of "the exotic" (there's an unwieldy construction), not that there actually is an Other to refer to by this term.
Possibly this is still morally corrupt, but it keeps me feeling honest, and I still think that's important.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Treasury Wednesday: Spring!
I made this treasury between students at work in the first part of March and I think I got a very nice color balance! It's also some unusual items, not the type I'm usually drawn to. I emphazise both photo and item quality when I'm picking things out for treasuries, and the unusual search terms I used brought up some things I've not yet seen meeting both criteria.
It's still strange to me that the seasonal change here is visible in something other than average temperature.
The trees outside my apartment look like bubbles made of flowers.
It's still strange to me that the seasonal change here is visible in something other than average temperature.
'First Southern Spring' by tangopig
The trees outside my apartment look like bubbles made of flowers.
 Bridal Bustier, Cor... $250.00 |  hand built porcelai... $37.00 |  ORIGINAL Impasto La... $175.00 |  Hot air balloon ear... $12.00 |
 Vinyl Wall Sticker ... $45.00 |  Lilly First Communi... $25.00 |  White Yarn Bowl wit... $36.00 |  Vintage Oversized B... $18.00 |
 Pretty White Yarrow... $1.95 |  PATTERN - Bubble Ba... $4.00 |  Candy Bubble Tree (... $18.00 |  CLEAR BUBBLE LAMPWO... $27.00 |
 Bracelet, Wedding J... $40.00 |  Fly Away No 1 $20.00 |  Knitted earrings $18.00 |  Bag of White Tea & ... $6.50 |
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