Posts
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Apr 22, 2009
Apr 16, 2009
The Evolution of a Brand
To those who are checking in, Art of Possibility didn't make the Echoing Green finals. In their supreme coolness, however, I can get the judges' unredacted notes (anonymized, naturally) so I can see how my concept was perceived by others more clueful than I.
I'll keep you posted and you know I deeply appreciate your support.
And today I realized I'm not really an art agency in any traditional understanding of agency. My not adapting my language to describe what I do as the business has evolved created significant confusion. So after I finish this I'll begin calling Art of Possibility an art brand. Period. To build that brand it represents artists but that's where the similarities between the work I'm doing and a standard art
agency end.
We represent artists, but we also help them through professional development and creating an infrastructure that facilitates their success. When I started the business it was because I saw market gaps that limited opportunity for artists with disabilities and I adopted a traditional model, then line item by line item, adjusted it to be positioned for optimum success. In those line item transitions I
moved away from the tried-and-true into the vast enormity of our shared potential.
It's into that potential that I drive forward, always exploring, and as I look over my shoulder and see the limits of the old vocabulary I realize I must advance, not cling to the ordinary so my hands are free to grasp the extraordinary as I reach for it.
I'll keep you posted and you know I deeply appreciate your support.
And today I realized I'm not really an art agency in any traditional understanding of agency. My not adapting my language to describe what I do as the business has evolved created significant confusion. So after I finish this I'll begin calling Art of Possibility an art brand. Period. To build that brand it represents artists but that's where the similarities between the work I'm doing and a standard art
agency end.
We represent artists, but we also help them through professional development and creating an infrastructure that facilitates their success. When I started the business it was because I saw market gaps that limited opportunity for artists with disabilities and I adopted a traditional model, then line item by line item, adjusted it to be positioned for optimum success. In those line item transitions I
moved away from the tried-and-true into the vast enormity of our shared potential.
It's into that potential that I drive forward, always exploring, and as I look over my shoulder and see the limits of the old vocabulary I realize I must advance, not cling to the ordinary so my hands are free to grasp the extraordinary as I reach for it.
Apr 7, 2009
How Does Your Life Matter?
"The Call" usually comes with a lengthy Latin-based diagnosis, a medical mystery shrouded in grafted syllables of a dead language. Anyone who's done any amount of living has gotten "the Call" and has paused.
Work can wait. Errands will keep. Inhale. Listen. A nearby spring bird declaring its sole right to the elm. A distant motor accelerates and fades. The fabric of the draperies lets loose a gentle shimmy in recognition of the invisible force of the wind upon it. Email will be there later. It's not going anywhere. Inhale.
Elle's surgery is scheduled; what dates are we available for a pre-surgical party to give love? Calendars, usually the boss, can be cleared. We'll be there. Y'know, we have a guest room if Elle needs a recovery place; I work from home; I can be here; feeble, desperate bids for uniting against the C word - recurring at 46 - inhale.
I'm much more comfortable with my own mortality than I am the mortality of friends. It's a control thing I guess. I joke with my husband on lazy weeknights as we Tivo through commercials that he can just put me down like Old Yeller if I crumble.
The crumbling of others, though, digs deep into my gut, into that adolescent stick-girl obsessed with fairness, fists clenched, ready to show you all when she grows up. A call for justice, sunburned shoulders and scabbed elbows, lacking in life experience to see the big wheel, to know that fortunes ebb and flow.
Fifteen minutes, maybe twenty pass. I'll do the next thing, the next work of my workday. It matters. Being able to create a path for others to continue creating, that matters. Carefully formulating a way to connect the disconnected matters. Giving love through the difficulties matters.
Giving love matters.
Love matters.
Work can wait. Errands will keep. Inhale. Listen. A nearby spring bird declaring its sole right to the elm. A distant motor accelerates and fades. The fabric of the draperies lets loose a gentle shimmy in recognition of the invisible force of the wind upon it. Email will be there later. It's not going anywhere. Inhale.
Elle's surgery is scheduled; what dates are we available for a pre-surgical party to give love? Calendars, usually the boss, can be cleared. We'll be there. Y'know, we have a guest room if Elle needs a recovery place; I work from home; I can be here; feeble, desperate bids for uniting against the C word - recurring at 46 - inhale.
I'm much more comfortable with my own mortality than I am the mortality of friends. It's a control thing I guess. I joke with my husband on lazy weeknights as we Tivo through commercials that he can just put me down like Old Yeller if I crumble.
The crumbling of others, though, digs deep into my gut, into that adolescent stick-girl obsessed with fairness, fists clenched, ready to show you all when she grows up. A call for justice, sunburned shoulders and scabbed elbows, lacking in life experience to see the big wheel, to know that fortunes ebb and flow.
Fifteen minutes, maybe twenty pass. I'll do the next thing, the next work of my workday. It matters. Being able to create a path for others to continue creating, that matters. Carefully formulating a way to connect the disconnected matters. Giving love through the difficulties matters.
Giving love matters.
Love matters.
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