My perfect imperfect table

I wanted to add a table to my studio for months. But it couldn't be just anything. I was waiting for the right thing to come along. I had both a practical and romanticized notion in my head. Then one day, it practically landed in my lap.

I wanted a table that was sturdy and fairly large. That was the practical side.

But I also wanted a table with a sort of beat-up, artistic character of its own. I had this storybook idea that I would just come across a perfect table. At a garage sale. Or maybe it would be a used table from an old school. Something with a history, with character. It would almost find me. Definitely not something I'd buy out of a catalog or furniture store.

Well, it showed up. We were at a friend's party several months back, and my husband spotted an old, homemade table out in the backyard. He thought it looked just like what I wanted. We discovered it belonged to one of the roomates. We asked him about his cool table, and the first thing he said was, "You can have it."

He was moving, or debating about it, and wasn't using the table anymore anyway. And it would definitely be too heavy to move.

He said he had used it to work on motorcycles, and before that his friend used it as a workbench to make custom-made motorcycle helmets with painted designs. And before that it had belonged to his friend's mom who was an artist.

It came pre-splattered with paint from its helmut-design days. It was basic and heavy and worn-in. Just perfect.

Its former owner even delivered it to me in his pickup truck and helped us get the heavy table down, and then up, some stairs, and finally into the house. We repaid his kindness with a nice bottle of wine, and enjoyed a visit.

Aside from the occasional splinter from the rough surface, and the fact that it smelled like motorcycle grease for a while, it's been just right. I have a place to work on collages, spread out sketches, materials, and even a small stereo for music.

Open Studios

Open Studios

What was I thinking when I signed up? I'm not even sure. But now, I'm in it. I'm opening up my home studio to family, friends and strangers on May 20 and 21st. This is part of Silicon Valley Open Studios.

Back in the fall when I signed up, I just thought Open Studios sounded vaguely cool. I didn't have expectations about the number of guests, and I was really nowhere near thinking about sales. Unfortunately, I've never even attended other artists' open studios events in prior years.

Now, as you may be able to tell, I'm feeling less than 100% prepared. Part of me is actually still wishy-washy about even selling my paintings.

While I have a realistic dose of modesty and practicality, there is also a part of me that thinks of my paintings as my own little masterpieces. And while I'd like to share my art and even have delusions of grandeur involving museum exhibits and worlwide fame, I'm also possessive of it.

But I've decided that part of the value in creating art is sharing art and it seems worthwhile to try to be 'out there' in some way.

I'm thoroughly enjoying part of the preparation. I was featured in an SVOS press release and even for a jaded PR person, I was tickled pink with my fifteen seconds (I don't think it qualified for fifteen minutes) of fame. I was a volunteer coordinator for a sneak-peek show in Foster City, working with eighteen other artists, producing a promotional postcard, hanging the show, and attending the reception. I've attended two seminars which provided training on how to market yourself, price your work and set up your studio.

I've thought about how I'll set up pieces in my studio, out on my deck, and into another room. I've thought about materials, a price list, snacks, invitees, etc. And I still think it will be cool.

So, it's all good stuff. It's just a leap of faith to put my pieces out there, and put prices on them. In fact, I'm not that particularly concerned with making sales, but once I got involved, I realized that people may be coming with the possible intent to buy. So, I feel like I should be prepared to offer some pieces. I may crank out a few smaller ones in the next few weeks so that I can sell some lower-priced pieces. I'm also looking into making prints. And of all ironic things, I need to make sure I hold on to a good set of about twenty pieces for my first solo show in July.