Playing with career choices
Back when I was in art school, a friend who was working on a Theatre degree discovered student services offered a career planning test. This one was based on interests rather than skills, so we decided we’d both give it a spin.

The results were well worth ticking all the little boxes.

Before I tell you what happened next, I need to explain something about my friend: she’s the type that cringes at movies. If particularly well-crafted carnage were about to occur, she would, on occasion, shrink into her seat, knees heading for her chin, with at least one hand clamped over her mouth.

Her top career recommendation? Naval officer. As you might imagine, hilarity ensued.

Then I began to read my assessment aloud.

In which she is revealed to be anti-social
“You do not enjoy working with people and do not like helping them with their problems.”

The actual wording may have been more diplomatic; I’m working from long-term memory which may be slightly coloured by my sense of humour.

My friend managed, “ ‘I’m OK, You’re Annoying’ ” before we both dissolved into snort-worthy gales of laughter. It’s an understatement to say she knew me pretty well. And as much as I’ve wanted to write a response to that iconic book over the years, it was pretty obvious what was really going on: whoever designed the database used phrases like, “You enjoy…” or “You do not enjoy…” and combined those with various descriptions.

Apparently the implications were missed during the test phase of the software. But to be honest, it wouldn’t have been nearly as fun if they’d finessed the thing.

Or perhaps she is simply an introverted creative
It’s not that I don’t like people. The survey showed, in a roundabout way, that I’m more interested in making things (if you’re curious, my top score was architect, followed by photographer). It wasn’t anything I didn’t know already, but the bluntness was kind of refreshing. It was still a little way into left field, but I suspect there weren’t textiles artists in the mix of people questioned for the data collection.

When presented with a monkey wrench, use it
We gravitate to structure and systems. They help us orient ourselves, and give us starting points and guideposts. Sometimes they give us something to push against. “I don’t like that assessment, but what really works for me is…” And sometimes they allow us to indulge our curiosity in ways that help us push our idea of what’s possible.

Those systems are always flawed. They have to be. They depend on the amount and quality of information available to the people who design them. They can never be completely without bias or ever be, well, complete. We have to adapt, process and even reject the notion of a “right way” to do something, or be something. That can be difficult when you’re trying to find where you fit.

Celebrate the square pegs
You can’t always find that place by filling in the blanks or marking x’s next to a list of available choices. Sometimes you have to create it for yourself.

A little side note: my friend decided that since the test was based on interests, the professionals described might be the people we should be dating. Which, of course, didn’t happen. And, just to keep things interesting, there are a few changes happening at The Studio Source. Stay tuned.

When time comes calling
A friend is very ill. We used to be close, but drifted apart, as friends sometimes do. When I heard the news, I sent her a message. That I was thinking of her; that she didn’t have to reply if her social capacity was on overload.

She just received more bad news, which she’s accepted with more grace and good humour than I could ever manage. She thanked me for writing.

“I hope you are well and happy—and creatively engaged.”

Creatively engaged.

Funny how that impacts on “well” and “happy.” I have, truth be told, spent too much time trying to be useful of late. An honourable pursuit, perhaps, but Creative has taken offence and packed her bags. Can’t say I blame her. And to be honest, Useful has gotten to be a bit of a bore. Some changes in metaphorical personnel are in order.

Because when you get down to it, none of us really knows when time will come calling.

Five simple questions
So let me ask you this:

How much time do you spend in the wrong places? On things that don’t really matter to you?

How much time do you waste worrying instead of exploring? Dreading rejection instead of taking a risk and getting on with it?

What would you change so you could fully occupy your creative life?

The headlong rush for attention
Technology has lowered the barrier for entry for publishing, for selling, and for rapidly expanding your audience across the globe. Creatively speaking, that’s a good thing.

The problem with a low barrier to entry is the number of people tripping over it.

I know creatives who are dismayed at the growing crowd of hacks out there. So dismayed that they’ve nearly given up on trying to promote their work. They believe they’ll be lost in the crowd, drowned out in the noise.

They want to run. The wrong way.

“Cheap” is not your competition
People who buy their “art” at the mall aren’t interested in one of a kind pieces. Some might only need their horizons broadened, but others don’t get what you do and never will. Poor quality materials, bad design and shaky execution shouldn’t be on your radar, period.

Your customer is not stupid
Fear, especially money fear, turns sensible people into hair-tearing lunatics. Customers committed to quality won’t go galloping for the cheap stuff just because it’s cheap. A tightened budget is one thing. Sudden disintegration of good taste? That doesn’t happen.

Now is not the time to pull back. You may have to adjust to the current economic climate—nudge some prices down a few percentage points, or create quality pieces that fit with a slightly lower price tag—but shuffling out of the arena is exactly the wrong move.

Take your talent and run
This is the time to step fully into the spotlight. To stretch your creative muscles.  Promote your work. Talk to your audience. Start a real conversation. Listen. Quiet confidence is classy, especially in a world filled with screaming infomercials.

Your best customers want quality. The more low-rent work is out there, the happier they’ll be to find creatives who are committed to the best work they can possibly make.

The hacks give you leverage. Use it.

A dying art: street photography in Kabul

There are exactly two street photographers left in Kabul, Afghanistan. The Afghan Box Camera Project shows the kamra-e-faoree (instant camera) to the rest of the world, and introduces photographer Qalam Nabi. Nabi demonstrates his art in this 8-minute video, complete with an intermission you don’t want to miss.

Thanks to Halifax photographer Aaron McKenzie Fraser for sending this across the interwebs.

There’s no school like the old (typesetting) school

Bleisatz is the German word for typesetting. This gorgeous video from Dusseldorf shows the process, from initial sketch to final piece—including  cleanup. The video makes letterpress look easy. I’ve done it, and I can tell you it’s not nearly as easy as it looks, unless you’re adept at thinking backwards.

Thanks to Rajesh Pancholi, head honcho at of R27, a creative design & marketing studio in the UK.

Celebrating the 21st Century library
The next time someone tells you libraries are on their way to extinction, point them to this article. 

The Calgary Public Library set a borrowing record in 2011. 

Half half a million more items were borrowed last year than in 2010. The sixth busiest library in North America, its impressive lending total of 17 million items included books, DVDs, and 322,000 ebooks.

Long live the library.

Thanks to the marvelous Angie Abdou, author of The Bone Cage, The Canterbury Trail and Anything Boys Can Do for sharing this story.

Where there’s soot, there’s drawing with fire
What happens when you burn a canvas? Canadian artist Steven Spauzuk began experimenting with fire and soot as a medium in 2001. His portfolio ranges from small, gestural works to wall-sized paintings composed of smaller manipulated pieces.

 A quick overview, including a video, can be found on This is Colossal. To see his online portfolio, check out Steven Spauzuk’s website.

Thanks to Toronto art director Stuart Thursby for this one.

It’s never too late for a dream
What do Alan Rickman, Peter Roget (of Thesaurus fame) and Colonel Sanders have in common? They didn’t quit.

Rickman began his film career at age 46, Roget published his iconic book at 73, and whether you love his fried chicken or think it’s a culinary abomination, his success can’t be denied. He founded his empire at age 65.

Read their stories, with two other late-bloomers, at cracked.com (with profuse apologies for the pop-up window and Cracked’s somewhat regrettable recommended stories).

Thanks to actor and producer Elizabeth Karr for passing this along via Twitter.

Inspiration—for new ideas, for ways to get your work into the world, or to just set the tone for the day—is everywhere. What inspires you?

Carmelita Caruana on Pinterest

The latest craze in social media
There was this little site that started in January 2011 called Pinterest. Called a virtual pinboard by its creators, it can be likened to an online scrapbook on steroids. It’s all about curating and collecting images and videos from every corner of the web. Pin an image to your virtual board, and whoever sees it can trace it back to its source.

That, in a nutshell, is the power of the site: potential customers can find you through collections of bright shiny things your admirers can’t resist.

The growth has been explosive: 389% from July to December 2011. Retailers and single users are reporting significant traffic spikes to their websites.

How it works
You can get an invitation from a Pinterest user, request one from the site itself via email (which may take a few days), or sign up immediately with an existing Facebook or Twitter account. From there, the instructions are easy. Create a few boards, which are simply collections of images based on a theme, and you’re off.

A quick Google search will give you some decent recon on how people are structuring their boards. You can also do a search on Pinterest without an account to see what kind of work is out there.

According to Pinterest etiquette, blatant self-promotion is against the rules. While posting some of your own work is fine, this is not a portfolio site.

It does, however, present incredible opportunities to showcase collections of work by like-minded creatives.

Who’s using it
Not surprisingly, 80% of account holders are women. The core group is between 25 and 44, and according to statistics from ecoconsultancy.com, fall into three groups: Boomers and Boomerangs, Babies and Bliss, and Families Matter Most. 25% have a Bachelor’s degree or higher.

This is where you inspect the bandwagon carefully to see if all the noise applies to you, or if this is a case of a big site that may fall into the category of There’s No Such Thing as Everybody. You can search the site without an account, and use Google to see if anyone you know is out there (provided they haven’t hidden their page from Google search).

Copyright and piracy
There’s no way around it: if your images are online, they’re prone to being swiped somewhere, sometime. Every image should be linked back to its origin, so you can consider a pin as an image in a magazine. You have to make a judgement call on the benefits and the risks.

You can hunt down your images by using this url: http://pinterest.com/source/yourwebsite and replace yourwebsite with your own URL.

So if we want to see what came from the lovely Carmelita Caruana’s Italian cooking blog, we do this: http://pinterest.com/source/blog.cookitaly.com/

To join or not to join
It looks like this juggernaut isn’t going away anytime soon. It’s big, it’s become hugely popular, and the ease of use is nearly as seductive as the images. With the growth of social commerce across the web, it’s a site, like Etsy, you shouldn’t completely ignore, even if it’s not appropriate for you right now.

Want more information? Check out the beginner’s guide on Mashable for more information (and here are some stats from leading retailers), or head on over to Pinterest.

About the author: Stacey Cornelius is a writer and professional butt-kicker who is well on her way to becoming a social  media burnout. Rather kick it old school with email? Sign up for her free, jargon-busting foundation marketing email class right here. 

Painting, music, and video: A Story in Three Parts
Silk painter Lee Zimmerman and improvisational cellist Kathy McTavish create a beautiful collaboration for the performance of the musical The Secret Garden. The event takes place at the Duluth Playhouse in Minnesota in early 2010.

The video came my way just yesterday.

It’s also a brilliant promotional piece for Zimmerman, McTavish and the theatre where they performed. It’s traveled to faraway places as well as through time to reach new people.

Conversation and connection make their own kind of music
Inkwell Boutique in Halifax, Canada connects online with Bespoke Letterpress Boutique in Brisbane, Australia. Bespoke Letterpress features images of the shop by photographer Daniel MacDonald. The potential audience for all of them is over 6000 people on Twitter alone—reaching people around the world.

When potential numbers are translated into more realistic figures, the message is still received by a significant number of the right people (who are in their respective cities, shop local, and who love things both handmade and beautiful), who can then re-share their content and revisit their websites.

Market without “marketing”
The possibilities for artist collaboration are as varied and exciting as the participants. The tools available to record and share these experiences are both affordable and flexible. They allow creatives to create promotional pieces that are works of art in themselves, that take the dusty, grey stuffing out of “marketing” and transform it into an exploration of both medium and message. They provide backstage passes and glimpses into galleries and studios around the world.

These are the kinds of collaborations that people want to share. A beautiful website, stunning photographs, an inspiring and fascinating video—the experience is something your audience wants to be part of.

Some artists have admitted to me they dislike technology so much they actively avoid it, in spite of understanding the benefits to their businesses. They don’t see it as a medium to discover, a new resource in their creative toolbox. They can’t begin to imagine the fascinating people they can meet and talk to, and share an audience—or project—with.

But you can.

About the author: Stacey Cornelius is a writer and professional butt-kicker. She helps empower artists, designers, writers and craftspeople to do their best work and show it to the world. Want more marketing info? Sign up for her free, jargon-busting foundation marketing email class right here. For high-speed inspiration, catch up with her on Twitter.

To speak out or not to speak out
Yesterday The Studio Source went dark as part of the protest against SOPA and PIPA anti-piracy legislation in the United States.

I almost didn’t participate.

 A couple of online friends asked if I’d be part of the strike. I’d already scanned an article on how to make the adjustments to my site, saw a bit of code, and moved on.

“I can’t do much but be in the cheering section,” I said, “but I’m watching developments. It will affect Canadians, too.”

It seemed like a reasonable response. But it wasn’t the truth.

When a reasonable response is anything but
This is what was running in the background:

“I’m working on one site that’s driving me crazy, I’m not going to muck around with code on one I can’t afford to break. Besides, I can’t vote on either bill.”

“I don’t have a huge readership. What difference would it make?”

“No one gives a damn what I think.”

Cue the sound of screeching tires.

The monster on your shoulder
The insecure knee-jerk happens from time to time; I’m sure it’s in the Universal Writer’s Handbook (if there was such a thing), right after the table of contents, and watermarked on every page.

Recognition came as quickly as the crashing white noise of self-doubt. The remedy was simple: shovel it up and spread it on the metaphorical rosebushes.

The deeper truth? That reaction had nothing to do with public political activism.



Denying your own voice

Creatives self-censor all the time. Not for the sake of good manners, but to fit into some imaginary idea of what’s acceptable when talking about their work-especially when they’re trying to sell it.

The aversion to being labelled a braggart or blowhard turns into dead-eyed blandness. The passion behind the creativity is squashed. Simple, strong words are whipped into a polysyllabic froth of half-understood jargon or meaningless catalogue-speak.

Sometimes you panic and don’t say anything at all. Emails aren’t sent, the phone remains untouched.

Sometimes denying your own voice goes way too far. The work—the song, the book, the painting—is never made.

Going public is a risk. So is remaining silent.

The middle ground is spongy. You poke your head up, but don’t say what you really mean. You settle for what you imagine people expect.

You try to make yourself small and say you’re being sensible.

Be bold, be smart
This is what I believe: that credit should be given where it’s due. That artists should be paid for their work. Piracy does damage, although if I’m being completely honest, I’m far less worried about the dented bottom lines of big movie studios than I am about independent artists.

I chose to join the SOPA strike because I think the legislation is poorly written. It doesn’t do enough to stop piracy and has the potential to do too much damage to legitimate (or just plain unwitting) users.

But mostly I spoke out because of the reek of censorship. That slope is too slippery. There are far too many artists, academics and journalists who have been intimidated, jailed, tortured or even murdered, to ignore the implications of SOPA and PIPA.

Some people won’t agree. Some won’t take the time to look past the headlines to try to understand the issue. Some will think any kind of activism has no place in business. And that’s okay.

Edit your message, don’t censor it
Whether I’m talking about marketing, mindset, method or missions in life or in business, I won’t self-censor. I will edit my message—weed out the words that don’t need to be there—to make it clearer and stronger.

I won’t call people names or beat anyone over the head with a virtual placard. There’s too much crazed shouting already, too many people basting their words in venom. I want to engage, not alienate, to spread ideas and help build revolutions.

The small amount of activism I do here is a conscious choice. I don’t take it lightly. Whether I talk about marketing or the mindset behind it, post a video to spark marketing ideas, or advocate change, my goal is always to enlighten and empower.

These are the things I believe in.

Do I get unnerved by any of it? Of course I do. Every time I hit Publish, there’s a small part of me that cringes. Will anyone read it? Will anyone care? Will what I say help someone move forward with his professional creative practice? Will it inspire someone to say yes to her talent and her potential?

There’s always a yes in there somewhere. Always.

The same is true for you. Say what you really want to say. Make your art.

About the author: Stacey Cornelius is a writer and professional butt-kicker. She helps empower artists, designers, writers and craftspeople to do their best work and show it to the world. The images she uses are through Flickr’s Creative Commons licensing. Want more marketing info? Sign up for her free, jargon-busting foundation marketing email class right here. Want to chat? Follow Stacey on Facebook.

Tangled in terminology
I just read a great article by digital marketing guru Mitch Joel about the goals of marketing in the wild world of social media. He talked about the difference between huge social media numbers compared to smaller numbers of the right people, and the difference between loud and thoughtful messages to that audience (I’m oversimplifying for the sake of brevity – check out the full article here).

The heading “Built to touch” jumped out at me, for what I hope are obvious reasons: the layers of meaning can become a seamless transition from the work you make to the way you reach your audience.

I left a comment about how so many creatives don’t trust the simplicity of engaging their audiences and used the word “marketing” instead of “promotion.”

I forgot where I was and went into blurt mode. Open keyboard, insert foot.

Mitch diplomatically reminded me that marketing is a combination of things, and promotion is just one part of the marketing picture. (The standard list, if you’re interested, is product, price, place and promotion.)

“Great,” I thought, as I hastily typed a follow-up, “he thinks I’m an idiot.”

Words to inspire, not intimidate

If I were to play by the rules, I’d talk about those four Ps and how they all fit together in a marketing strategy. I could really go overboard and talk about supply chain management, but if I did that you wouldn’t be here (and neither would I).

There are a couple of reasons I don’t do that: one is many people use marketing and promotion interchangeably. But mostly I don’t do it because the technicalities of terminology can really bog you down.

Granted, none of those words are very long, or remotely difficult to understand, but calling art, or craft, or design a product isn’t particularly inspiring. For many creatives, the mere thought of promotion can tighten your throat and make your hands clammy.

I talk a lot about promotion (without calling it that) because it’s the big scary part for most creatives, and the place where the wheels usually come off.

When you’re trying to wrap your head around things that unnerve you, how you learn is just as important as what you learn. So I don’t sweat the labels too much.

When the rules are mostly guidelines
If you like structure, you can use the textbook marketing Ps (and add a few more for good measure), or you can make up your own list.

How about this: there’s a what, who, where, how much, and “you had me at hello.”

Or this: put your work in the hands of the right people at the right price (for them and for you). Find them, bring a little wow, and make it easy for them to buy.

Or if you prefer to go visual, imagine the whole thing like a scene in a movie. Your work, your customer, the place where you sell it, and the money in her hand.

Whatever way you approach it, the big umbrella of marketing will get you where you’re going. As long as all the elements are in place and properly aligned, it doesn’t much matter what you call them.

What matters most
 in “marketing”
What matters is you don’t convince yourself you can’t do it, or that you need a commerce degree, or that you have to do things the “right” way, or in the “right” order.

What matters is you pay attention to what works, and what doesn’t.

What matters most is to remember that marketing, like your creative practice, evolves. You learn new things, you explore, you observe and execute.

What do you think? Do you prefer to play by the rules, or do you work better when you make your own? Or do any of those labels matter to you—is getting the work done the only thing you care about?

About the author: Stacey Cornelius is a writer and professional butt-kicker. She helps empower artists, designers, writers and craftspeople to do their best work and show it to the world. Sign up for her free, jargon-busting foundation marketing email class right here. Want to chat? Follow Stacey on Facebook.

Now that the holiday dust has settled…
Did you make any New Year’s resolutions?

Did you really want to make New Year’s resolutions?

I’m guessing you didn’t.

I’m guessing what you really want is for a bunch of things to happen for your business this year.

Say, for example, you want to finish your taxes done before the deadline, so you’re not in a panic.

Or you want to get more organized.

Or you have this vague notion about getting your marketing butt in gear. You know you need to do something, but you’re not sure where to begin.

Forget the resolutions.

Resolutions sound noble and courageous, but resolve is pointless if you don’t take action.

As in, right now.

Do one simple thing
Is the copyright notice on your website up to date?

Not yet?

Change it. Today.

That’s all you have to do.

Do one (more) simple thing
Since you’re there anyway, take a good look at your website—the virtual face of your creative business, the first thing anyone sees when they look you up online.

Is there an image that needs to be updated?

Just one.

Pick it.

Fix it.

One thing leads to another
Constraints can spark an extraordinary amount of action.

“But I can only change one image? There are three on that single page that need to go! This looks terrible! How did I let things go for so long?”

It doesn’t matter if you’ve let things slide, because that one simple thing just jumpstarted your marketing batteries.

All that matters is you’re ready to act. No lists needed, no lofty New Year’s resolutions to make, break, or feel badly about.

What’s your one thing?

What’s the one thing you can do right now to promote your creative business? To increase sales?

Name it, even if it scares you, because you’re not going to tackle a huge, complicated project all at once. You’re going to do one thing at a time.

What one thing can you do to promote your business this year?

What’s the one simple thing that will get you started?

Maybe it’s a phone call. Or an email.

Or maybe it’s as simple as changing the date on your copyright notice.

One thing.

Choose it.

Do it.

About the author: Stacey Cornelius is a writer and professional butt-kicker. She helps empower artists, designers, writers and craftspeople to do their best work and show it to the world. Sign up for her free, jargon-busting foundation marketing email class right here. For high speed inspiration, follow her on Twitter.

A Christmas gift gone way wrong
Once upon a time there was a couple named Dick and Jane (not their real names).

Dick wasn’t the greatest gift buyer in the world.

One Christmas Dick was especially stumped. He had to get Jane stocking stuffers and buy her a proper gift, and that particular year he ran out of ideas.

He’s wasn’t sure what to do, so he froze up. He didn’t think much about Jane’s reaction, he just wanted to get the whole painful thing over with.

Then Dick made a mistake. He bought a Very Bad Gift.

Fortunately, Dick enlisted the help of a family member to wrap his gifts. When Betty (not her real name) saw the item in question, she knew Jane would not respond well to her Christmas celebration being turned into that meaningless ritual of I-have-to-buy-you-something-so-what-the-hell.

Betty realized Dick was in serious danger of being bludgeoned with a gravy-soaked turkey leg. She concealed Dick’s Very Bad Gift in a closet.

Crisis averted.

This is not a new story
Dick’s dilemma may sound painfully familiar.

And you probably figured out we’re not really talking about buying Christmas gifts here.

Fear leads to marketing mistakes
That forced fictional gift, and the reaction, is a classic marketing scenario. The seller is at a loss about how to connect with her customers, so she falls back on what seems easiest, or most practical in that uncomfortable moment.

Trust me on this: it’s not the way to go.

The solution to Dick’s dilemma is simple.

Great marketing starts with attention
He could pay attention when Jane says things like, “This is great! This is so much fun! I love that colour/musician/store/restaurant/spa/author…”

Or he could do a little stealth research. He could ask Jane leading questions. In July, maybe. Or October.

He could look at the books on her bedside table. Or check the titles of her online book club. Or see what shops or music she has listed as favourites on her Facebook page.

Or he could just ask outright: “What’s the best gift you ever got?” Or “I think this is pretty cool. What do you think?” If Jane hates that thing Dick mentioned, she might tell him why, and maybe get enough of a rant going to reveal excellent information about what she does think is cool.

Don’t let fear trip you up
Dick shouldn’t tell himself he can’t figure it out. In spite of his near-tragic holiday purchase, Dick is a pretty smart guy.

He just convinced himself his task was impossible, that this whole gift-buying thing was mysterious and had rules he didn’t know.

He convinced himself it was better to do something lame than to take a risk: to try something remarkable, even in a small way.

It’s the thought that counts
The thing is, the thought really does count. And the effort—to pay attention, to work on the details, to present something that delights the recipient—is worth it.

When marketing deteriorates into a meaningless ritual, it looks like you don’t care. People don’t like being around someone with that mindset.

Going through the motions is a bore.

You don’t want to do it, and your customers have seen enough of that kind of marketing. They want something a little more sincere. They want to know you’re interested.

Great marketing is personal
That thing they buy from you is like a gift. It doesn’t matter if it’s something personal or a creative service to make their own business more successful. It means something. There is always emotion attached.

That little spark of Christmas morning is what turns marketing into something great.

About the author: Stacey Cornelius is a writer and artist who believes successful creative ventures run far deeper than snazzy sales pitches. She helps empower artists, designers, writers and craftspeople to do their best work and show it to the world. Sign up for her free, jargon-busting foundation marketing email class right here. Stacey also wants you to know a toilet brush makes a really lousy stocking stuffer, and wishes you a very happy holiday season filled with your favourite things.