Be Curious, Not Judgmental.

After over a year of enduring comments about my occupation and how I choose to work, I'm going to share my thoughts on manners and basic acceptance of the "artist" and the "home employed." I have held my thoughts on this, thinking, over time, people will see my sincerity, they will see my dedication and the respect will follow.

But the comments keep coming. And it's almost enough to make a girl a hermit.

So, sometimes things need to be said straight, hit on the head. And I will say that I know no one is intending to hurt me. But perhaps these thoughts will help someone out there better understand another artisan, stay at home/working mom, writer, or other self employed person that conducts their business at their residence. It just takes a little thought and openness.

Do not ask someone:

Are you still just at home? (AKA, I see your "job" as temporary.)
So, you haven't gone to work anywhere? (You haven't gotten a real job?)
Do you enjoy the homebody life? (Well, I would love to have company actually.)
Still living the life of luxury? (How are those daytime soaps?)
Do you sell anything? (Aka, do you have any success with your silly choice of business at all. I mean ANYTHING??? Would you  EVER ask a shop owner if they ever sell anything? That would be so rude.)

Or comment:

It must be nice to be at home. (True... but is typically said accidentally condescending)
It must be nice to not have to go to work. (Excuse me? I love to go to work. It would be terrible to not be able to go to work)
It must be nice to be retired. (This is the worst one.)

All of this is repeatedly soul crushing.

I patiently explain, where I practice my art and what I have chosen to do for a living does not equate to retirement, unemployment or playing.

I've simply responded, "I am not retired, I work in my studio almost everyday of the week (Sundays are off)" to which I've gotten a curt, "Well yes you are practically retired, you are doing POTTERY."

Sometimes I buckle and make it easier on the person and say, "Oh, well, I also teach classes at Earthworks and Gallery 318." This seems to appease them. I'm not at home, so that means I can't be on the couch eating bon bons. But in reality, teaching classes are a fraction of what I do with my time. The majority of my working time- and pay check- is made from the home.

And this is what it is like working in my home. And in all sincerity, many people have no idea what I do so hopefully this helps bridge the gap.

***

Winter Studio Version

I typically work in the studio late morning until early evening. This helps with the cold mornings and late nights teaching. I go down my little staircase, passing through my laundry room where I typically get hung up for a bit realizing there is souring laundry at my finger tips, and when I make it to my basement studio, I turn on 17 different light sources and two radiator heaters, and then go back upstairs while the heaters warm up and finish up whatever business might be at hand. This could include printing shipping labels for Etsy orders, responding to customer inquiries, brushing my teeth, walking my dog, putting away breakfast dishes, etc.

My basement is normally 51 degrees in the morning and rises to 54 by the afternoon. Thank God I'm in Georgia.

I usually know the exact temperature because it is constantly displayed on my kiln. Unless the kiln is on. And then it reads anywhere from 51 to 2205. And I do not use the kiln as a heater. I do not want to breathe hot kiln fumes- I value my life. A kiln does not equal a heater by any means.

I can get my wheel room up to a comfortable temperature as long as it is not below 40 outside. But, the remainder of my space (sink, glaze "room", kiln area, shipping area) cannot be heated as it is an open, mostly dirt floor space, with way too many cracks to the great outdoors.

I start the day finishing up pieces I started the previous days. Trimming, decorating, handles, knobs, signatures, etc. easily devour a good 50% of my day. But, when that is over, I get to throw more pieces! Oh, wait, I have to take the trash out first, clean up all those trimming that hit the floor and weigh out a dozen pieces of clay.

Throwing (working at the wheel) is the fast part. You feel the most accomplished after this is over. I can fill my shelfs in a few short hours dedicated to the wheel. It is very inspiring.

Then more cleaning, and prepping for the next day.

Every couple weeks comes glaze day. This occurs after a batch of pots has dried thoroughly enough to withstand a bisque firing. A batch to me is about 30-40 pots. Then I get to glaze in the chilly room until it is done. You may see me complain about glazing on facebook. It is quite intimidating as I usually am on a deadline to have things ready for a show or customer, and the glazing makes or breaks the piece. And about 20 pieces in I'm tired and ready to do something else. So, sometimes this splits over a couple days, but it is always a huge step for me to finish this last leg of the journey to completed pots.

Some days I am sick. More often so now that I am pregnant (as you read about in my last post). And dusty cold studios with spinning machines and delicate pieces that reflect all the emotions of the maker do not lend well to sick people. So if I have the option to take a break, I do. I think it is what any humane boss would allow. And sometimes, if I'm sick of being sick, I find ways around it, and sneak clay upstairs or work or blog posts and photography. But sometimes I just sleep.

***

So, in the end, I know so many hard working people that receive similar disrespect for the jobs they do in the home. I'm sure there are lots of stories from other sole proprietors and stay at home working parents that get similar judgmental comments thrown in their face everyday.

The world is a vast, ever changing place and the world of work is no different. Working from home can be a blessing in so many forms- great parking, less milage, low overhead, accessibility to children and friends, pet companionship, getting to go home for lunch every day, etc. etc. But don't confuse these perks with the value and authenticity of our work. The judgment hurts. My business is no different from the mechanic down the street. I'm building a business. I'm making due with what I have. And I'm growing in a field I love.

Lisa