The importance of tools . . .

Not sure where my art is going right now. I'm making stupid mistakes because of a new system and using too much time to research how to do things and to figure out why things aren't working.

I'm in the midst of changing from a PC to a Mac, and today hit a low point.

All I want to do is MAKE something. The problem is that I'm currently unfamiliar with my tools, and the result is that when I try to make something, someone's put my tools in a different location, and when I do find them, they're slightly different, forcing me to stop, read the "tool manual," and then carry on.

In the meantime my inspiration and my enthusiasm for what I've been making has left the building.

I've spent hours trying to create and nothing is running smoothly.

I know this will pass. I know things will be fine. But right now? I just want to make something without having to bug friends, read manuals, Google various forums (where people are all too soon referred to as idiots who don't want to read manuals!), try to locate license keys and old passwords, make educated (but often wrong) guesses, wait for things to load, reload, and update only to not be able to find them once done.

This new computer (and its attendant programs) are the tools of my "trade" (such as it is). I just wish I was more familiar with its quirks, more adept at using it, and more confident with the new skill set that's now required.

And until then? Well, it's rather tense around the Leigh/Smith household these days!

©Carol Leigh, who took way too much time just to locate the above photo of old wrenches!

Constant change . . . PC to Mac

As you might imagine, converting from the PC to the Mac means I'm rummaging through a lot of files, discovering photos, figuring out where to put them, etc.

I came upon these three images that I shot in Alaska last year and they reminded me of a most delightful trip where we encountered vivid colors (top photo, closeup of a painted carving on a door), the lack of color (unpainted carved section of a totem pole), and overall weathered-ness (bottom photo of oars mounted above a door on a metal building).

Time will pass and the red owl face will fade. Maybe someone will paint the raw wood on the totem carving. And the blue building will continue to weather beautifully.

When you travel to Alaska, you might see these same things, but you'll see them differently. The light will be different. You'll be seeing them with your own unique vision and from your unique vantage point. Some of you will paint, some of you will sketch, others will photograph. And maybe you won't notice these three subjects at all.

Each of us brings to the table all past experiences, memories, proclivities. The result is that you and I (artists, painters, photographers, makers of things), see and create in such different ways. We change. Our vantage points change. Our tools, colors, and styles all change.

So changing from a PC to a Mac is resulting in me seeing my pictures with new eyes (always a good thing) and encouraging me to use old tools in a different way.

Equally important this morning is realizing that the computer switch, although excruciatingly frustrating, maddening, and exasperating, is probably a good thing.

If I live through it.

©Carol Leigh