Jolie's Advice

You may remember this post about Jolie Guillebeau’s project, 100 Paintings in 100 Days. Well, Jolie’s up to Day 67 now - quite a feat.

What impresses me just as much as the heroic scale of her painting, however, is the freshness and enthusiasm that spills from her daily posts. She’d be forgiven for sounding just a touch jaded by now. But, no! It’s still full steam ahead.








If you read the comments on the first post, you'll know that Jolie volunteered to pass on the benefit of her experience to anyone else contemplating a similar enterprise.  So of course I took her up on her offer. 

Here then, in her own words, is some of the wisdom gleaned from the last two months of painting.




67 days ago, I started a crazy project. I decided to kick myself out of the quagmire of fear and perfectionism by committing publicly to doing 100 paintings in 100 days. I'd been painting for a while, but not really making much progress. I wasn't selling a lot, which meant I wasn't very motivated to paint because I was tired of just stacking more paintings in the corner of my studio. Then when I was painting, I'd spend hours and hours on something until it looked perfect - and stiff and lifeless.

This project solved both problems. I began on Day 1 with a painting for $1. Why so low? I had so many people who loved my work, but couldn't really afford an original. I wanted to acknowledge their support in some way. And honestly, $1 for a painting is better than nothing.

So on February 15, I began. And I've learned a few things along the way. Hopefully they'll help you, even if you decide not to do something this crazy.

Lesson One: Relationship is everything.

This project has challenged my painting skills, my business model and my creative muscles. But the most important benefit has been the new relationships. I've encountered so many new people, who are excited about my work and my plans. Yes, some of them are buyers, but most of them are people who are just excited about what I'm doing and want to encourage me. That matters more than sales.

Lesson Two: Organization leads to sanity.

Early on, I didn't think about all the "extra" time; I was just focused on painting time. But I quickly realized that setting up the e-mail, shipping and administrative details were going to take much more time that I expected. So I made a spreadsheet. That spreadsheet has saved my life and my sanity so many times. Do whatever you need to do to get the process out of your head and on to paper, so that when you wake at 4am with an idea, you can write it down and go back to sleep.

Lesson Three: Double check everything.

Day 21 was a disaster. I had a lot of new subscribers that week, and Sunday had been especially busy, so when I set up the email for Day 21, I forgot to double check the image. It was the wrong one. The story and the painting didn't match; it was a painting that had already sold, and I spent several minutes curled in a ball on the floor of my studio certain that I was a failure and this was the beginning of the end. But I pulled it out, people were gracious, and I learned that everyone really wants you to succeed. They're rooting for you, so...

Lesson Four: Don't be afraid.

Just get started. If you're thinking about a project like this, begin today. Make a commitment, begin, take action. I'm rooting for you. If you're wondering about anything I haven't covered here, I'd be happy to answer other questions in the comments or via e-mail. Stop thinking, stop worrying, stop listening to your gremlins, and do something wonderful.

The Same View: April

Notice a greening of the hillside yet?

Perhaps….but only just. Everything’s late this year. Temperatures have only recently hit the magic number that starts the grass growing.

But, growing it is; and everything else besides. So next month should bring more visible change.

January                                                      February                                                 March

Lulu and I: The End or the Beginning?

(...or a week in the life of a Bailey Tomlin fascinator - see this post)





So….my week of wearing Lulu draws to a close. Just what have I learned from my fanciful experiment?

- Firstly, that Bridget makes very wearable art. If you’re in need of a fascinator for a swish occasion, she’s your girl!

- Whatever the reason de rigueur hats fell from fashion, it had nothing to do with impracticality. Lulu has been not an ounce of bother. And, in a strong wind, she stayed on my head better than any hat I’ve ever worn. Maybe it’s time women took to serious head adornment once more.

- We’re inclined to think that people notice us far more than they actually do. My over-the-top appearance barely registered with a lot of folk. Which was far more surprising than any reaction Lulu provoked.

- The solidarity of women is a magnificent thing. I was hugely touched and cheered by my friends’ supportive sporting of fascinators on Friday evening (there’d been a bit of opposition to Lulu’s prospective appearance in the pig pen!). And I’m still grovelling abjectly over having snapped no photos for you! Sorry!

- There may be places (and lifestyles) where Lulu would not be incongruous on a daily basis; but my locality is not one of them. Despite my history of fairly flamboyant hat-wearing, Lulu often felt a step too far. I gave up wearing her on the moors around Day 4; I just felt too much of a prize idiot. And I seemed to spend quite a bit of the week apologizing for my outlandish headgear. Perhaps I shouldn’t have done that - but I couldn’t help myself.

- There are, on the other hand, places and occasions where Lulu comes into her own. And - until my mode of living changes to something that will accommodate daily Lulu - I shall make the most of such settings and times. Tea at Betty’s, anyone? A weekend in Florence, perhaps…?

Lulu and I: Down and Dirty

(...or a week in the life of a Bailey Tomlin fascinator - see this post)

There was work to be done in the garden today and I had help. So, while the children played, Claire and Joanne and I dug and transplanted and repotted.

Did Lulu get in the way? Not at all. Like skirts and hats, I’m finding there’s very little you can’t do whilst wearing a fascinator. It may look silly on occasion, but Lulu doesn’t actually interfere with anything much. She’s remarkably easy to wear; surprisingly practical.

I’ve also been considering whether I act differently when she’s on my head. And the answer is no. Most of the time, I simply forget she’s there.

So - comfortable, wearable…..and decorative. My favourite comment today came from Joanne. With Lulu up top, she thinks I look like a flower fairy!

Lulu and I: The Sublime and the Ridiculous

(...or a week in the life of a Bailey Tomlin fascinator - see this post)

If I wanted to test the adaptability of my fanciful friend, I couldn‘t have devised a better trial than today. Talk about extremes…

It’s my birthday. And it’s a special one.

My friend, Rachael, and I were born on the very same day. Yet in the almost 29 years we’ve known each other, we’ve never once spent our birthday together. Until today. We finally did it. Celebrated in the same place at the same time. And of course Lulu came too.

The three of us met in Harrogate where Lulu was in her element. Harrogate is just the kind of genteel town in which she feels most at home. For the first time this week, I felt truly comfortable!

During lunch at Betty’s, Rachael drew two winners for last week’s spectacular Florentine give-away (congratulations to Tessa and to Tracy!). Then we took a walk in the Valley Gardens, where Lulu garnered some admiring looks. The weather was utterly perfect. All in all, it was sublime.

But then…..the ridiculous. Lulu in a pig sty! This evening saw the final pig pen ceilidh before the lighter nights make us take a break from such gatherings. In honour of the occasion, we had real, live musicians serenading us and the pigs.

Ridiculous the idea may have been - Lulu amidst the muck and straw and swine - but she was entirely at ease in the situation. And the most gigglesome surprise greeted us: several friends sporting fascinators in sympathy and support - and for the sheer fun of it!  (But can you believe I failed to take any photos of this hatty abundance?  Grrr!)