On Friendship

By Pam Winters

I’ve been thinking a lot about friendship of late. This includes friends who are currently in my life, friends who once were in my life at some point in the past, and friends I don’t see or hear from very often, but they’re definitely there in my life all the same. There are other categories of friendship, too, which can overlap with and/or morph into the above, of course—work friends, family friends, new friends, etc. Let me just say right off the bat, when it comes to friends, of all shapes and stripes, I am an extremely fortunate person, because I have many, and they are the best people. Furthermore, I consider several family members my closest friends, and those relationships are the most special to me. We’ve seen each other at our very best, as well as at our very worst, and we somehow manage to stick by one another through it all. It truly is amazing when I stop to think about it. Then there are friends who are very much like family to me—we’ve been through many years of knowing one another, shared experiences, laughed together, supported each other during rough times, and even let the other see the not so picture-perfect parts of our lives. I cherish these friends like extended family members, and it seems that it really doesn’t matter how often we see or talk to one another; the friendship weathers it all. With these particular friends, several years can, and often do, go by between our visits. However, when we do have the chance to finally see each other, we make the very most of our time together. Along with family, these are friends I’ve come to lean on, and vice versa. It’s an extremely good feeling to know you have a support system like that.

There are friends I’ve made strictly online or by means of other long-distance communication that I have never even met in person, but we keep on writing and talking, and there is a personal connection that keeps us friends. Maybe it’s writing, music, mutual friends, the shared human experience, or a combination of these, but it’s strong enough to maintain the friendship over many miles, many years and through the screen of a computer. That’s pretty amazing, as well.

If friendship can come and go, or stick around for a lifetime, and if it can happen overnight, or grow and strengthen gradually over the course of many years, how do we truly know when someone is friend material? What is friendship, when all is said and done? Perhaps it’s when somebody sticks with you, even though you may not be the best company at a given time, but they see something worthwhile in you, and are willing to put up with your “crummy self” (as the rockabilly musician Chris Isaak once put it while briefly discussing new relationships between songs during a live performance I attended). These rare individuals know that putting up with your “crummy self” is sure to pay off when the sunshine peeks its head out and the good times are rolling once again. Also, it is my opinion that the “crummy self” scenario is a two-way street—i.e., both friends have to be able to weather this storm for any hope of a long-lasting, meaningful friendship to take root. And everyone has a “crummy self” (even Chris Isaak, apparently). Furthermore, friends lift you up when you’ve taken refuge in the doldrums, or give you a reason to give things another shot. If at first you don’t succeed, and you really don’t feel like trying again, try again for your friend, who believes in you. How many times has a friend kept you going when you felt like throwing in the towel? Or let you see what a great person you really are, when all you can see are the mistakes and flaws? There really is no price or predetermined time limit you can put on friendship—if it’s real, we know it at our innermost core, because we can relax, be ourselves and not give it a second thought. And if the friendship has run its course, we come to know that in our innermost core, too.

I think the character Wind in His Hair (played by Rodney A. Grant) from the movie Dances With Wolves summed it up best at the end of the movie, in his farewell ode to the title character (played by Kevin Costner): “Dances with Wolves. I am Wind in His Hair. Do you see that I am your friend? Can you see that you will always be my friend?”

“The secret of getting ahead is getting started.”

By Pam Winters

At the end of March, I was fortunate enough to be introduced to the paper art of quilling, as part of the Y Conference put on by AIGA San Diego. I had signed up for the conference just before it commenced, so the selection of free workshops (or “Thinkshops,” as AIGA calls them) that comes with conference attendance was limited. Looking at the remaining options, I saw that quilling was available. My curiosity was piqued, as this was something I hadn’t tried my hand at before. Some of the things that come up in an online search when looking up the term “quilling” are so beautifully ornate and intricate, I could see this was most likely going to be a fun, though somewhat challenging, experience.

The day of the quilling Thinkshop, I was pleasantly surprised to find a full room with almost equal numbers of men and women (probably 30 people or more total), sitting at tables, ready to hear the instructor, Candice Warner, a local designer and paper artist, give a brief description on quilling, show examples or her own and others’ work and give us some beginning tools, supplies and tips to get started on making some of our own things. I was inspired right away!

Candice was very generous, and set us up with the basics right off the bat: strips of paper evenly cut and in a variety of colors; a small quilling tool with a split metal head for holding the paper in place while curling; small clipping shears; a lightweight tweezers tool; paper-friendly glue; toothpicks; a disposable plate for placing small amounts of glue as we worked; and lastly, a couple of cards for practicing basic quilling shapes and structures and for creating a small design (pre-drawn on the card for us). Once we all got our hands on the goodies in front of us, we set to work. Our table consisted of a friendly group of people, and we chatted as we worked, talking about our jobs, other creative things we like to do and we also traded business cards. Quilling, it turns out, is not just a wonderful paper craft, it’s also a great way to network and socialize with your neighbors!

When the conference was over, I shared the practice sheet of quilling shapes I had done on Instagram and with family and friends in person. It was a beginning for me, and I kept my manila envelope with all of my newly acquired tools and paper strips at the ready in my workroom, should the mood strike me to start it up again. Well, it took a good couple of months, but I finally gave myself the opportunity to get back to it. And it took a crafting night with a group of friends, with whom I have also worked side by side over the past several years at a retail store, to break out that project I’ve been meaning to revisit. It felt really great to pick up where I left off with the quilling, and when I brought it home with me, I continued working on it.

Sometimes, it’s simply not enough to write down a to-do in your planner, or tell yourself to get back to something. It might take the company and support of friends to give you the permission to set aside the time to sit down with that thing you’ve been meaning to do for yourself. And once that inspiration is reawakened, who knows what’s possible? I like to think, anything at all!

“If your dreams don’t scare you, they aren’t big enough.”

By Pam Winters

This week, I am doing something that I have never done before: attending a conference that is strictly online. One of the best parts about this particular conference, Maker Mentors (MM), is the fact that it is three days packed full of information and inspiration geared toward creatives, like me, who are launching their own businesses. It is also for those wanting to improve a business that already exists and/or to simply soak in the ideas and inspiration that the conference offers. Another great thing is being able to enjoy the benefits of MM in the comfort of my own home. Still another great part about this experience is actually feeling like I’m at an in-person conference, in a sense, in that everyone attending can see each speaker talking in real time, ask questions via the chat room and interact with other conference attendees during the sessions, as well as outside them (e.g., in the forums on the MM site).

There are talented, knowledgeable and driven creative professionals behind Maker Mentors: Cassie Boorn (founder), Erin Wetzel (creative director), Liz Sabo (marketing coordinator) and Gary Robinson (graphic designer/webmaster). Having just completed Day 2 of the conference, I can say firsthand that the MM team is doing a fantastic job of pulling off this unique online event. Cassie and Erin check in with all of us logging on first thing in the morning (7:30 a.m. sharp), and briefly go over what to expect for the day, as well as general reminders, etc. I am thoroughly impressed with how smoothly the conference has been running, and with the fact that Cassie and Erin each have a laser-like focus on helping attendees get the most out of these three days.

For me, coming together with others who are serious about doing creative work; building and growing their own businesses and/or helping others get started and progress is the biggest gift I could give myself right now. I am truly grateful for the opportunity and intend to apply what I’m learning and absorbing to my own life, to the best of my ability. One thing seems pretty much universally agreed upon among conference attendees and speakers: one’s success boils down to showing up regularly, contributing and speaking from the heart.

Below is a brief list of shared wisdom, advice and positive affirmations that have stood out for me personally during the past couple of days (Please note: I have paraphrased from my notes on the different speaker talks and presentations, adding my own emphasis to certain words in the form of all caps):

Write a blog and say whatever you want to say in long format. The objective is to pick a platform and tell your story. ~ Cory Huff, digital strategist & actor
SMILE! Be enthusiastic and passionate about your product/business. It will transfer to others! ~ Jenna Herbut, entrepreneur & maker
Building a business is all about just DOING it, and creating something that aligns with who you are as an individual. ~ Jennifer Lee, coach & author
Take SMALL steps. Don’t let focusing on the “big goal” paralyze you and your work. ~ Kendyll Hillegas, illustrator & maker
STEP AWAY from the work daily, taking time to pause and regroup during the day. Breathe deeply and stretch. ~ Kerry Burki, teacher, author & maker
You HAVE to make sacrifices to launch your career. ~ Lisa Congdon, illustrator & fine artist
There is no “right way.” There is YOUR way. Trust in yourself is vital, and you have to practice it. ~ Molly Mahar, coach, teacher & writer
When you connect with others authentically, promotion comes naturally. ~ Tara Gentile, author & coach
You WILL get rejected a lot. Focus on moving forward to the YES. ~ Tracy Matthews, jewelry designer & mentor

Pictured above: Maker Mentors promo image; a photo from one of Friday’s sessions, featuring conversation with Joanna Hawley, creative director and blogger (© 2015 by Pam Winters); the quote in the title of this post is attributed to Ellen Johnson Sirleaf

“If it is to be, then it’s up to me.”

By Pam Winters

Life Drawing Study My intention with an online journal is to post entries that not only mean something to me, but hopefully, inspire and/or interest others out there reading. Ideally, I would like this to be an area where I am able to string together and share the varied experiences of my life—this includes remembering the past, pulling from the present and looking to the future for new endeavors and experiences yet to come. These are glimpses into what personally shapes me as an individual, and by default, as an artist and designer. This journal should be a safe place above all else—a place for learning, growing and sharing. And with that, I begin …

It was the summer of 1996, and I had just moved to Washington, D.C., from San Diego to pursue graduate studies at Georgetown University. I had been accepted to their master’s program in Russian Area Studies, which was a next step after getting my bachelor’s in Political Science and Russian and Soviet Studies at UCSD. Georgetown offered me a university fellowship, which covered the cost of tuition. It was an exciting time for me, and only the second time I had lived on the east coast. Having never visited D.C. before being accepted to Georgetown, I was immediately drawn to the city and its energy. My living arrangement was ideal: I would rent an upstairs bedroom in a cute little house in a quiet neighborhood just off of Wisconsin Avenue, and a short walk from the National Cathedral. A young woman (we’ll call her Marie) lived in the house with her partner (Brad, as we’ll call him here), who was getting ready to move out in order to pursue his law degree in Indiana. My bedroom overlooked the lush backyard tended by Marie and Brad, both of whom enjoyed gardening. Marie and I would be rooming with a young man who had also just arrived in D.C. from California (we’ll call him Todd). Like me, Todd had recently graduated with his bachelor’s from one of the UC campuses; his goal was to obtain a full-time job at an organization focused on social change. Brad moved out as the two California transplants moved in, with occasional visits back as his schedule allowed.

Each one of us in our twenties at the time, we ended up having quite a bit in common, and the house dynamic was a fairly successful one (with the occasional hiccup, of course). We shared our hopes and dreams, almost from Day One. All of us had talents that quickly emerged. I remember early on looking through my sketchbooks with both roommates, one seated on either side of me—they complimented my drawing abilities and artistic expression. Marie paused at one drawing in particular that I had done a short time before (in a life drawing class in California)—“That looks like ME!” We all agreed the model’s face in my drawing did indeed closely resemble her face; it was a coincidence worth noting. Marie had her own creative outlet, diligently working at the dining room table in the evenings, after returning home from work, on a very detailed, beautiful quilt she was sewing together from scratch. One day, on a whim, Todd baked all of us a phenomenally delicious apple pie from scratch. We were amazed and encouraged by one another’s gifts. And we were able to share quality social time with one another at different points—movies, television, dinner, shopping or just easy conversation in the house—which made things a little bit better for the homesick among us (i.e., myself and Todd).

Soon after starting the graduate program at Georgetown, I realized that I wanted more creativity in my life. I could see that the rigorous class, study and thesis-writing schedule, combined with university- and student-sponsored activities outside of the classroom, were going to quickly fill up every waking hour in my day and evening, and then some. Russian studies in general and the study of the Russian language, in particular, fascinated me to no end. My intellectual spirit soared while an undergraduate at UCSD; I loved taking classes steeped in Russian and Soviet politics, history, art, literature, society and language. When I realized how much I loved learning about that part of the world, I took this inspiration and ran with it, all the way to Georgetown. But, when I got there, I was so intrigued by D.C. itself, and all that this new big city environment had to offer, that I felt a disconnect when sitting in a classroom (yet again), as opposed to going out and experiencing the world, and hopefully finding a way to let my innate talents and desire to draw lead that exploration.

In short, I stayed at the house for a few months after leaving the program at Georgetown. I signed up for an illustration class at the nearby Corcoran extension, and worked a little bit in retail at a shop in the Georgetown Park mall. The class turned out to be a highlight of my stay. I also soaked up all I could from the places I visited in D.C. and neighboring areas during those few months—from galleries to monuments to people watching. Looking forward to getting started on my next phase in life, I intended to draw. I moved back to California shortly before the holidays that same year, and soon after, got to work drawing political cartoons, which seemed to satisfy my thirst for politics and news, and my desire to put pen to paper to express my opinion. Since that experience living with Marie and Todd in D.C., I often think about a little framed quote that Marie had hanging on one of the walls of the house, which I passed by and took note of on more than one occasion: “If it is to be, then it’s up to me.” I never forgot that, and I hold myself to it today, as I continue down my own path of living a life filled with creativity, reaching for joy and inspiration at every opportunity.

On Friendship

“The secret of getting ahead is getting started.”

“If your dreams don’t scare you, they aren’t big enough.”

“If it is to be, then it’s up to me.”

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