On the one hand . . .
Sometimes I think I work way too hard. For instance, I read a newspaper story about a MN man who has a blog completely devoted to tracking which McDonald's restaurants are selling the McRib sandwich on any given day. He used to only get around 1500 hits per day (WHAT?!) but since he was mentioned in the Wall Street Journal (WHY?!) he has been getting about 75,000 hits per day.
Yes, you read that right.
There are infinitely more people interested in the McRib sandwich than in fiber art or, in particular, my musings about it. If it had been the Red Robin Guacamole Burger, I might have been able to understand it. But the McRib Sandwich?! Seriously.
So all of my efforts to dig through my trove of old magazines searching for just the right illustration, to mine my library of quotes to find just the right tidbit of wisdom, or even to put thousands of hand stitches into silly little pictures is much more effort than one needs to expend to find an appreciative audience in today's world.
On the other hand . . .
Mimi Kirchner said something on her blog, Doll, the other day that really made me pause. She said:
"I need to think more and rely on old habits less."
Or something like that. She was talking about stitching and re-stitching a face on a doll that she just couldn't get right, even though she'd stitched similar faces a thousand times.
And I am OH SO GUILTY of thinking less and relying on old habits more. It becomes particularly difficult for me the further along I get on this journey of fabric storytelling. It's hard to see all the same old things with new eyes. It's hard to think of new ways to do those same old things.
I'm sure ruts are the plague of all artists.
But wouldn't it be nice to be able to put on
someone else's glasses every now and then,
and see the world the way they see it?
For instance, once a woman who was looking at my work commented that
there seemed to be a strong Egyptian influence in my birds . . .
REALLY? Cool. I've never had an Egyptian thought in my life.
Isn't it wonderful how everyone carries their own pair of eyes and their own set of experiences with them wherever they go? It makes the world so much more interesting.
Even the McRib might fascinate me, if I tried looking at it through a kaleidoscope.
Now I'm wracking my brain trying to come up with a concept for a new blog that could have more mass appeal . . . but I'm having a hard time coming up with anything as completely random or disgustingly processed as the McRib sandwich. And maybe that's part of the appeal.
In fact, it's probably a brilliant blog concept, just because of its utterly banal subject matter. Deceptively simple. (I wouldn't begin to know how or where to gather specific and reliable McDonald's menu data on any given day.)
Simplicity is sometimes the hardest work of all.
"Personally, I have nothing against work,
particularly when performed quietly and
unobtrusively by someone else."
-- Barbara Ehrenreich
Maybe I'll head over to the McRib site
and see what all the fuss is about.