domingo, 11 de outubro de 2009

A Different Client


We never know who is going to become our client. Obviously, we have an idea about our customers profile, but actually a client can be anyone. However, sometimes a new client may surprise us.

When I was back to Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, I started organizing myself to make miniatures again. I got clay, tools and all I needed to work (again!). I didn't know yet where I was going to sell (as always!), I just wanted to be started.

Firstly, I got a call from a group of artisans (I don't know how they found me, but somehow I was in their files) and they invited me to be a member of the group. Of course, I accepted, but I had never worked together with other artisans as a group. An government agency would help us to get our papers as small businesses, new fairs to show our work and everything. That was good.

Soon, I got my papers as a small business artisan and started selling my miniatures in different fairs. We had notes and pictures at the local newspaper about our shows and weekly meetings to talk about the group. However, after few months, the artisans weren't happy. The places where we had our shows were lacking buyers and the sales weren't good. They were picking the wrong places. It was the first time I had few orders. Really, something wasn't right.

Generally each of us had his/her own boot, but once we went to a big show and we had a single big boot to all of us as a group in that event. Frankly, I didn't like it. I paid a lot of money to be there, but my small miniatures simply "disappeared" in the middle of the big pieces of the other artisans. I could have sold a lot more if I had my own boot, away of the group. That was a lesson to be learnt.

Soon after that event I started missing some meetings because it was better to stay home working than to be there. I guess everyone thought the same and few weeks later the group was over. I don't regret having entered into that group. I met a lot of people and had new experiences.

Then, I was alone again. The main subject in those meetings was the available places we had to sell our work. That was the main problem. The fairs and shows were too expensive. It seemed we were renting stores in the mall or something.

So, I thought: how about to sell my miniatures in my own place? My parents had an old building and there was an empty area close to it. It was a kind of garage, a big room covered by a roof and a large gate to the street. It could work as a store.

I thought: what if the people walking at the street could see me making the miniatures? So, I thought about to create an open art studio, where the people could walk in and see everything I was doing. And, sure, they could buy miniatures.

That place was empty and nobody was going there for years. There was a lot to do. There was a pile of old stuff covered with dust. Everything was garbage. Then I spent some days just cleaning that place. Then, I put my things there and was ready to fully open that big gate and let the people see me working there.

It was exactly 9 AM when I opened the gate. Less than a minute later I heard a big noise as a car was breaking and it finally stopped just in front of me!!! What a shock!!! I almost fainted!

It was the police car! Four officers with heavy weapons as I had never seen so close of me came in my direction!

While I was almost having a heart attack, the police officers were seeing my miniatures. If they were normal policemen, I would be just surprised to have them looking my work, but they were from that kind of special police, called only to deal with extremely hard situations. That is why they had those weapons and dress differently.

I guess they were just passing by the street when they saw the opened gate - the gate that was always closed and they went to see what was that. Sure, they found me and my miniatures. They liked it and bought some miniatures.

Next day there were two police cars in front of my place. Now I had 8 policemen as customers! All of them would want to buy my miniatures! The funny thing was that the people at street thought that something was happening there. Some curious people came to see why those police officers were there and when they saw that the police officers were only buying miniatures, they would want to buy too!

segunda-feira, 14 de setembro de 2009

Life seems wind


I thought about going to New York City in September 9, 2001 because it was my birthday and I could have a short vacation. Obviously, as a turist, I would visit the WTC twin towers during those days. I am happy because I changed my mind and didn't go. The terrorist attacks happened 2 days after my birthday, on September 11. I stayed in Boston, and watched the terrible news on tv.

I felt this tragedy as each of the victims was from my own family. I am Brazilian, but I put an American flag in my hat, and another in my door. Even now, 8 years later, I feel me sad during the September 11 day.

I never thought seriously about going to United States. When I was younger I did want to know the Disneyworld, as every kid. Later, I did want to know the main cities in the world, like Paris, Roma, London, and sure New York, as everybody, but that was not too important. Sometimes I daydreamt about it but soon I had forgotten.

However, after almost 10 years divorced, I met an American man and we got married. This is why I went to live in Boston from 2000 to 2003. It happened so fast in my life that it seems that a gust of wind took me to the United Sates and brought me back.

As soon as I got there, I found that I had a pre-cancer and had to make a surgery. Then, I stayed in Boston until the surgery was successfully done and I was completely healed. Probably, if I had not gone to USA, I wouldn't have found about it and it could have developed until to become really a cancer. Maybe I would find it when it was too late. So the entire time I did live in Boston, I was very worried about my health. After September 11, I became really really sad for everything.

But I made a lot of friends in Boston and I can tell they were too important for me. I was used to tell them stories about my life in Brazil. Sure, I ended up talking about my miniatures and some friends did ask me to make some miniatures, so they could see it.

I didn't know where to find the natural clay and the stuff I was used to make my miniatures. I did walk a lot in Boston and found everything in the Pearl store. I made about 20 miniatures to show my friends. And guess what? They wanted to buy all of them. I had got even orders.

It made me happy during several months. Then, someone invited me to show my miniatures in the Sommerville Museum. There was a local artists exhibition and I was one of them. I thought that no one would go there to see the exhibition because there was a snow storm during the night. It was too very cold, but the people from Boston is brave and the Museum was full of people. I sold almost everything I had.

For the first time I had orders in Boston from people that I didn't know personally. I made business cards and became busy. The American people liked my art.

However, the same wind that made me go to USA years before made me also be back to my country. The relationship between my husband and I wasn't good. So, I decided go back to my home in Rio de Janeiro. Now I feel as I have and love two countries: Brazil and USA.

segunda-feira, 24 de agosto de 2009

The Assault

Nobody likes to be interrupted. Mainly if we are watching TV and someone appears pointing a gun to our head. This was what happened to me years ago.

It was a summer night and I was watching the news on TV. They were noticing something important and all my attention was there. I heard someone saying something behind me. I didn't understand and kept looking to the TV. I thought it was one of my kids, and said (without look): "Wait a minute". Then, I saw a gun close to my left eye and looked back. There was 2 gunmen in my living room!

They were two thieves. I didn't know how they came in. I had been in the pool til late that day and I was still dressing bikini and shorts. My mom was there and only one of my kids was at home too. The thieves made us go to the first bedroom and we sat there. One of them stayed with us while the second one started stealing my things. They took all electronics they could, my mom purse and even my kids toys!

We were lucky because they didn't hurt us. There was no physical violence because my mom, my son and I got to keep ourselves quiet and calm. After about 1 hour, they took us to the last bedroom (the most far from the street), locked us there and left.

Few minutes later, they were back. They had put everything in my car, but they didn't get to open the garage door and leave! They made me go there alone with them while my mom and my son were locked in that bedroom. I had to open the garage door and drive my car to the street. Then, they took me back to the bedroom and locked me there. So, they left.

In this exact moment, we heard the bell ring! It was my dad! I knew he was about to get there! But the thieves were still inside. We head a shot!!! That was a terrible moment! I prayed! We heard more shots, then there was silence. We were praying and crying! We didn't know what had happened outside!

Next, we heard voices of people calling us and we were screaming: "Here! We are here!" It was our neighbors and my dad! He was alive and ok! He said that when he rang the bell, the thieves were already opening the door to leave. So, my dad and the thieves were in front of each other! My dad ran and hid behind his car, while a robber fired a shot, but didn't get to hurt him.

The noise of the shot made two of my neighbors appear at the street. Both of them (a man and his son) are policemen. They shot the thieves while they were escaping , but the criminals got to flee. Minutes later, several police cars did park in front of my home.

In that same night the thieves were arrested. They were escaping in high speed and the car flipped. At this time the police didn't know yet that they were thieves and went to help them, but the robbers fired shots against the policemen. Then, they tried to escape again, but didn't get it this time.

This happened about 2 days after I had gone to sell my canvas and miniatures at street. My miniatures were in the car that was stolen. I need not say that the miniatures were distroyed when there was the car accident.

I had to start all over again.


sábado, 15 de agosto de 2009

The Trump Card


Everyone has a Plan B. What to do when everything goes wrong. Sometimes the plan B is better than whatever we are currently doing, but we don't realize it! And we keep doing "whatever" because it sounds safer. The Plan B is made by despair, but maybe it comes from our deeper core.

I spent years doing "whatever". I did marry again and got my third child. Life became normal during some years. The miniature factory was past. No more painting or modeling until late in the night, no more clay, plaster, dirty hands, table full of colored miniatures, the smell of the ink, molds, fairs, orders. All of this was past. I had a monthly salary and bosses.

However, there is something inside me - SOMETHING, that hates the normal life! Then, I was unhappy. I knew that always would be possible to buy clay and start over. But I did look for a psychologist instead.

I found a lot about me, sure. My likes and dislikes. I like challenges! My job as freelance writer wasn't too common, so no problem, but I was still unhappy. My dad gave me a little help telling me: "Nothing has to be". Then, I got divorced.

As soon as I was divorced, I didn't know exactly where to start. I'd want to do something different. During those bored years, I painted several oil paintings in canvas and some were good! So, I packed my canvas, miniatures and put everything in my car and drove around. Suddenly, I found a nice place and did expose my canvas! That was risky because I didn't have any kind of licence to show my work in that place, but I did! And... guess what? My canvas were sold!

I was just happy! I didn't need that money, but I was happy because it is not easy to sell oil paintings, but I did so well. Later, talking to my dad, he said that I could do that whenever needed money.

He said: "Your painting is your trump card."


sábado, 8 de agosto de 2009

Opportunities


We must be alert to the opportunities. We must be ready to them. An opportunity may knock on our door any time. It is not easy to be ready when it comes.

When we are young, we are not aware about opportunities. We don't see it coming and then suddenly the whole thing happens quickly.

I was finishing the college. Architecture is a long and expensive course. I had to do a lot of sacrifices to get it done. I had to work to the publishing house, I lived far from the school, no car, 2 children and no husband to support me. I was in the tenth semester. The last one.

I don't remember exactly what happened, but I had to stay in a place during long time waiting something be fixed and there was a man waiting too. We started talking and I told him about my miniatures. At the end of the conversation, I found out that the man was an important CEO of the publishing house where I worked. I became a bit shy because we were already talking like old friends. He told me to look for him at work next day. So, I did.

He wanted me to write a book about my miniatures! What opportunity! The normal way would be me looking for publishers to get a printed book. This is what normally happens. The young writers have their written books and start looking for publishers, often getting something like "No" as answer. But I had got a publisher asking me a book!

Firstly, I was super happy! Soon I started writing the book... But I had to stop because I must go to the college. I had to take care of my children. I had to work. Then, I got the idea that I couldn't write any book. I had no time! If I spent that semester writing a book, I wouldn't finish the college! I was in the very last semester!

What should I do? Write the book and quit the college? Or finish the college and let that opportunity go? If I had already a written book, that wouldn't be a problem. Yep! The opportunity came and I was not ready!

I did talk to the CEO again and told him my dilemma. I could start writing the book only in the next semester. His face did look like a puzzle. Later I got it.

When I finished the college, I went to look for him, but he was no longer working in the publishing house. He was retired. So, I lost that opportunity.



terça-feira, 4 de agosto de 2009

Choices


In most cases we do our choices in the dark, although it seems that we can see everything clearly. We try to hit the target. We get as much information as possible and work hard to be straight and focused, but we really don't know what is going to happen. Life is unpredictable.

Since I was a teenager I love drawing, painting and writing. Sure, my way would be in one of these fields. That is why I didn't know what to choose when it was time to go to the college. But I had to choose, then I decided to study journalism first. But when I was in the third year, I got pregnant and left the college when my baby was born. Later, I could go back and finish it, but I was so involved with the miniatures that I didn't. Well, you know, there was no time to keep going to the college while I was working with the miniatures.

During those years my life was just painting and painting. The "writing" thing didn't make sense anymore! It sounded as I was mistaken when I picked that. That is why I didn't go back to the college too.

Working with clay means being in contact with the four elements. Clay is earth. It need be watered all time, so we have to work close to the water. Then, it has to be dried by the air, and then burned by fire. Don't ask me about the fifth element! Well, you can ask: the fifth element is the creation. Without it we don't do anything.

When that room collapsed and my miniatures were distroyed, I was so mad that I wanted go to the opposite direction and be as far as possible from all of this. That is why I took some technical courses and quickly I was working with computers. But that was not my deal. A year later I was bored.

My parents wanted me to go back to college. They were glad to help me babysitting my kids. Then, I thought it would be better to study arts instead of journalism. My dad said that arts could be a problem to get a job if I needed. I should study architecture.

So, I did. I went to the college to study architeture during 5 very long years. My dad was a builder and I had other architects in the family, as my uncles and cousin. It would be easy to get a job.

I enjoyed the college, but it wasn't easy for me. Many times I had to have my kids with me in the classroom because my parents couldn't be with them. It sounded as I would have a nice career ahead.

But I was wrong! When I was looking for work I got a job in a publishing house. I had to make some illustrations and visual programming to books and magazines. It seemed perfect. However, eventually they needed people writing pages to the magazines. I ended up writing some pages and soon they only wanted me WRITING!!!

This is how I spent the next 20 years writing to magazines (being an architect!).


PS.: Dear readers, I didn't stop making my miniatures. Next you will see how I did everything at the same time.

domingo, 2 de agosto de 2009

The Fate Told me: Stop it!


I am not used to believe in fate because I believe more in our free will, but I don't know, my dear reader, if you already noticed that sometimes we are just taken to another direction. It seems that a quick and sudden sequence of events place us elsewhere. The doors open in that new direction and our other options seem locked.

It was happening to me. In a minute, I had my studio and we were 5 people making miniatures and in the next minute I had nothing. My husband left and I had to be back to my parents home. There was no place to make miniatures in that house, only a room in the backyard where my dad kept his tools and things of the garden and pool. The people that helped me before also disapeared. They didn't feel confortable there.

During the first days, I did nothing. I spent long time sat in the porch just staring in chock. Later I began unpacking the boxes. The molds were damaged. The latex molds had to stay inside the water, but I forgot and it was melted. There were a lot of broken miniatures, the clay and the plaster were hardened. I had to start all over again.

I cleaned the room in the backyard. It was not a nice room. The walls were made of left over wood from old constructions, I could see outside in the spaces between the boards. The roof had some holes, the door had no knobs. I only could be there in the evening, after my children were sleeping. So I was a bit afraid of bats, mosquitos, rats and even snakes when I was there.

I bought clay and latex and made new miniatures. I was used to stay there working alone until very late, as 2 or 3 am. I was all by myself, but the miniatures seemed smiling for me. They were my little family. I still didn't know where or how I would be selling those miniatures.

Then, when I was making the very last painting a strong wind began to blow. It was a storm! It came very quickly! The lamp was shaking, some things flew away! I started closing the cans of ink, packing the miniatures, cleaning the brushes while the rain was already heavy. There was water falling from the little holes of the roof on the miniatures and I had to put them in a protected place, but the wind was so strong that I was fearful. I decided to leave everything there and go back to the house.

As soon as I left the room, the wind came really strong and the room collapsed!!! Oh my God! Seconds before I was inside! All my job was distroyed! So many sleepless nights to get it done!

It was like the fate had told me: STOP IT! Right now! Then, I quit. Next months I began studying computers and soon I was working as a programmer in a big company. My dad said that I went from the Stone Age to the Technology Era in a minute.

sábado, 1 de agosto de 2009

A Major Change


The unexpected always happens. It should be called "expected" instead. Marco, my husband, wasn't happy. He was returning very early from fairs on Tursdays and Sundays. But not only this. He was taking longer to get back from fairs outside the city. So, if on Sundays he had to come back like 9 PM, then he was back about 1 PM. But if the fair was in another town and he had to go on Friday to come back on Monday, then he was back only on Tuesday or even Wednesday.

His behavior was different. We talked a lot about it. He wanted to live in another place. He wanted to live outside of Rio de Janeiro. He told me that he couldn't live in a place like Rio anymore. I like the countryside, but I didn't know how it could work out. We had to be close to the downtown to sell the miniatures.

However, I was wrong. Marco didn't want simply to live in the countryside as I thought. He wanted to live outside any city, which means in some remote area. In the jungle! Yes! I got it! I told him what seemed obvious for me. We had 2 children and we couldn't do it to them. There are not schools or hospitals in the jungle. Marco agreed and we stopped talking about this subject during some months.

He was staying there for me and the kids, but he wasn't happy. I could tell it. I guess he also wanted to do his thing. The miniatures were my idea and he wanted to get his dreams done. I had never dreamt about making miniatures. I did it because we needed. The miniatures ended being our job. But he had his personal dreams, and he dreamt about going to the jungle, and work as artisan. He would like to work sculpting wood.

He was becoming depressed. So, I told him: "Go! Just go!" And he did. I stayed alone with the children and soon I learnt that I couldn't make all that by myself. I had no one to take care of my kids. I couldn't go to the fairs with them and the bags full of miniatures. They were 4 and 3 years old. I didn't drive yet in that time.

I had to go back to my parents home. They had a kind of wooden house in the backyard where my dad kept his tools. I tried to make a place for me to keep working with the miniatures.

Marco went to live in another state. First he lived in a farm with some friends. Later he got what he really wanted. He went to live alone in the jungle (it is called "Mata Atlântica" - means "Atlantic jungle"). I didn't see him during years. Sometimes I even didn't know if he was still alive.

He lived as a hermit. Few years ago, after more than 20 years apart, he came to my home several times because he needed go to see the doctor in the downtown and he had no place to stay in Rio. He seemed older than his real age.

Two years ago, he told me that he was sick by depression. He had an employee that was doing all the job. Maybe a month later, I got a phone call. Marco was died. So, I went to his place for the first time. The car couldn't go there. I had to walk a lot. The nature was wonderful, but there was no neighbors, nothing, only the forest. That loneliness was not good to anyone. His death was noticed by the newspaper because he was a naturalist and lastly he became a defender of the forest.


Above, a picture of Marco selling his wooden toys in the fair and down the house he built in the forest.


quinta-feira, 30 de julho de 2009

How is to be married to a hippie


I have been writing about my husband, but I still didn't mention his name or anything about him. I did it because I would want to write a post about him.

He was a very intelligent guy, student of Chemical Engineering in the Federal University of Rio de Janeiro. He was a kind of thinker, he had something as a genius. Being so wise, he was critical about the world. Sure, he didn't get along with the society standards and therefore he became a hippie. He had to be. If there was no hippies, he would be the first.

He knew to write with both hands, the left and the right hand worked as the same. He played guitar wonderfuly (both sides - the arm of the guitar could be to the right or to the left!). He had a great mechanical reasoning. He was very creative.

He was vegan since when this word wasn't used yet. He just ate natural food. No soda, no sugar, no junk food. He would want to live a natural life, without the human inventions. He didn't want to have things like TV, phone or refrigerator. It was not easy to live with him.

He left the Chemical Engineering School when he completed the third year and started studying arts and painting. It was a big change. I met him first time when he was playing guitar with friends. His name was Marco.

I'm talking about him in the past because he died some time ago. Later I will write more about it.

I am telling all of this because you, reader, can understand what was happening that time. I'd like to ask you: does a person like Marco care about money? What do you think?

Every Thursdays and Sundays Marco was going to sell our miniatures at the arts fairs. The fairs (both) open at 8 AM and close around 9 PM. So, Marco was used to leave our home at 7 AM and he was back in the evening. However, after we started earning more money, Marco was back home from the fairs like 1PM or even earlier. When I asked him why he was back so early, he answered that was because he had got enough money already. Then I would ask "What is enough money???"

Well, the deal was: as soon as Marco earnt enough for us to survive until the next fair, he'd stop selling and was back home. Sure, I disagreed about that. Money is never "enough". He would want a simple lifestyle, but that was too much simple. I wanna live, not survive! How about to have some savings? Emergency money? He said that he was not ambitious. But I don't think this is about being ambitious or not. Did you get the argument?

I felt me beaten. What I was doing? To be awaken until late painting, doing my best sounded useless.

quarta-feira, 29 de julho de 2009

Taking another punch


Things are not good or bad for long. After the fire in our studio, we had to start and start soon. The miniatures were our only source of money. We lost a lot of things, but there was still material to work.

Actually, that difficulty led us to get help from other people. We always worked alone, only me and my husband. Then, we got two people to paint the miniatures and one to deal with the molds, but the last details were made by me. We tried to get someone to make the details, but the miniature seemed somehow different and no good.

We were 5 people working all day long and every miniature made for us was sold quickly. This work paid our bills, food, clothes and furniture. I could work and have my children close to me. Our employees were our friends and everything had a great harmony. We were not rich, but I was happy!

Once, we knew about an out of state fair. It was called "Ouro Preto Winter Festival". We could expose and sell our miniatures there during 7 days. We had an old car, but it would be an 8 hours trip to the mountains and we were afraid that the car wouldn't get to make it, then we decided go by bus. As I needed a break, my kids and I went there too. The good thing about selling miniatures is that you can have a lot of them in a bag.

Ouro Preto is a historical city in the state of Minas Gerais, Brazil. It is called by Historical and Cultural Heritage of Humanity. It was the place of the sculptor Aleijadinho. He hadn't no fingers in his hands, but he did a lot of wonderful sculptures in the churches of Ouro Preto. In this town there is also an old and traditional university. So, this place is always full of students from everywhere.

The weather was wonderful and the fair was great, then during the weekend we sold almost all miniatures. We bought our tickets back home and decided to enjoy the town as turists before go home. The town was full of people. We went to the museum and walked around looking the colonial architecture.

At the end of that day, we went to eat something, but... Where was the money??? A thief had stolen the wallet of my husband with all our money!!! Now we had no money and no miniatures. We were lucky because the tickets were in my bag, that wasn't stollen. I had some money too. But we had to leave the place where we were staying, so we didn't have to pay for another night. There was no credit cards in that time.

We went to a cheap student place, and next day early in the morning, we were back home with no money to tell the story. Again I had to rush myself to make more miniatures.



terça-feira, 28 de julho de 2009

Low Fire Night


We had a studio in our backyard where we were used to work. It had a lot of shelves full of miniatures ready to paint (some were new models that we were experiencing and hadn't tried to sell yet), a cabinet full of painted miniatures waiting to dry, cans of ink, brushes and a desk full of other stuff, like the molds. Outside, but still under the roof, we had a large wooden table where I was used to paint and our oven. We also had some pictures (oil paintings and watercolors) hanging on the walls, a radio and a guitar. There were no computers at that time.

I was used to paint only during the day, with natural light, but we were selling everything each Sunday and we got another weekly fair on Thursdays too, then I had to make a lot of miniatures every week. That is why I was also working during the night. My husband was crazy about organization. He had to organize and clean everything before start working. I wasn't much like that (now I am, but not at that time), then many times we fight over this subject. While I was painting, he was cleaning the studio. Everything had to be perfect before he could start.

My husband was used to sleep early, while I stayed up until late every night just painting. I liked to paint a lot of miniatures at once. I'd get the yellow ink, for example, and painted every yellow detail of all miniatures and so on. This is addictive... You can't stop! So, I was used to paint until the large table was full of miniatures and there was no room for any more miniature. Then, it was bed time for me.

When I get up in the morning, the miniatures were already dried. Then the table could be cleaned and I started all over again. This was my everyday rotine. However, once, when I got up and open my window room, instead of seeing the dried miniatures on the table, I felt a smell of smoke and saw that the whole studio was black!!!

My husband forgot the oven on and the fire distroyed the studio during the night!!! Everything was black! The large wooden table was now trash! All miniatures I had done were distroyed! I don't know how we didn't awake. We got the idea that the fire was low, with no flames and extinguished by itself. Everything turned into coal. I thought we were very lucky because we could have die. Now we had to start over from zero.

We had to get a little helf from our friends.


segunda-feira, 27 de julho de 2009

1000 Miniatures


Things were very different years ago. We were trying to increase our homemade miniature production. We thought about making a two parts plaster mold. We had never done this.

After an entire day working hard to get at least one mold done, we tried to make the first miniature, but we didn't get it. The miniature didn't get out of the mold. It came out in pieces. When I think that today there are a lot of videos on youtube showing how to make this job! But that time we had nothing. We tried again and again. Now the miniatures were coming out of the mold, but completely deformed!

We thought about silicon molds, but the silicon wasn't sold as it is today. It was sold only in enormous quantities to the industries. The only silicon we could buy was the silicon that is sold to dentists. It was very expensive, but we bought. We made a mold and the miniature came out wonderful!

However, each time we made a miniature the mold was damaged. Then, we found out that the mold was able to make only about 100 miniatures! That was worthless. The silicon was too much expensive and each miniature would have to cost a fortune.

My husband thought about to make an oven in our backyard too, so at least the miniatures would be lighter and resistant. He made an electric oven using refractory bricks and cement. There was an iron little door and a key power. But we couldn't put all miniatures in this oven because they had to be hollow and some miniatures were too small to be hollowed, but still too "big" to get that high temperature (it would be distroyed). So, just some of the miniatures were placed in the oven after dried.

But we didn't stop thinking about the molds. My husband got an idea. He ordered natural latex from Amazon forest! That time the government had built the BR320 Transamazon highway - an enormous highway of 4000 Km (about 2500 miles) through the tropical forest and there were a lot of big trucks going there. The latex is extracted from the "seringueira" (the rubber tree), a common Amazon tree.

So, we got the cheap latex from Amazon forest and tried to make our molds. We didn't know how to deal with the latex. That look like honey (same color, same texture, but not the same taste!). I don't know how my husband found out how to deal with that.

We had to put the miniature inside the latex can and then put it close to the fire. We had to make a big fire in the backyard to get the molds done. It seemed we were from the Stone Age, but the molds were great and cheap! And more: the latex last longer than silicon.

But we had to had a plaster mold to hold the latex mold. That seemed very complicated. We solve the problem diferently. As we live close to the beach, we got a box full of sand and the molds had to stay placed in the sand. The sand takes the form of the latex mold, so we hadn't to make that complicated plaster mold. Also, we had to start making plaster miniatures because the clay doesn't work well in the latex molds.

After all of this, we could have boxes and boxes full of miniatures quickly, although the painting process was still slow. I was making about 1000 miniatures/month and selling all of them.

PS.: Dear readers, next post I will tell you how my little factory was distroyed by fire!


domingo, 26 de julho de 2009

Like American Indians


Sometimes I think that if you don't live in USA, then you have a cousin living there. I had a cousin living in New York City and he was back in Brazil for a visit. He worked as a trader, importing and exporting American products. He was a successful man in his business and he came to my home while I was completely busy making miniatures.

Sure he saw my miniatures and my attempt to do business. He said that people in America would love my miniatures but he couldn't do almost nothing for me. When I asked him why, he told me a story:

"Once a business man was driving in the desert, when he saw some indians close to the road selling things. He was curious and wanted to see what was that.

He was amazed! They had really nice leather jackets, quilts, blankets, jewelry, bags, shoes... a lot of things! The prices were so good that he bought everything the indians had to sell.

The business man went to downtown and sold everything he had bought of the indians. A week later, he was back in the desert looking for the indians, but they weren't there, where they met before. He drove around trying to find them until he did.

So he said that the people just loved the leather jackets, quilts and everything he had bought. Then, he would want to buy more. The indians agreed.

He said he wanted to order 10 thousands of those jackets, 3 thousands of the quilts and 2 thousands of the blankets to the next 30 days.

The indians started laughing. The older one said that was impossible. The business man didn't understand and asked why. So, the older indian explained that they took about 10 years to make that stuff the business man had bought a week before. They would need more than 1 hundred years to get that order done!"

I understood what my cousing was talking about. He said: "Can you have 5 thousands of the miniatures done and packed to next 30 days?". I couldn't. He was right. It would take a year to be done.

So my cousin just bought some miniatures to give to his friends in NYC and I was left thinking about how could I increase my production.

The excitement of that visit was over soon. Then I was back creating new miniatures to sell at the fair on Sunday.




sábado, 25 de julho de 2009

Selling Miniatures

As I told before, I had no experience. Mainly, I had no experience in pricing. The clay is cheap. I could make more than 100 miniatures expending only 1 dollar with the clay. The ink also was not expensive. If I buy a small can of each color, I could paint during months. The solvents as Tinner and the brushes were the most expensive, but still not so bad. I would spend so few, that my dad was used to say that I turned earth (the natural clay) in cash!

Also, the value of the miniature had to come from the time I need to make each piece and my skills. But not only this... There are other things that we have to account as: if the miniature is the one of a kind, if I am a known artist or not and, mainly, how much the people is willing to pay.

But 30 years ago I didn't know about it. My husband sold a lot of miniatures to the stores, but we didn't know really how much we could ask for each miniature. Only when we saw the prices of my miniatures in the stores windows, we had the idea of how much we could sell them. I was amazed because the prices were like 5 times higher than we had asked. We knew that the prices would be higher at the stores, but not so much.

So, I realized that I could earn about 5 times more if I had sold the miniatures directly to the clients. That is why we did stop of selling to the stores and started looking for clients only. We get a sales person: a college student, friend of us, that sold a lot of miniatures in the Federal University of the Rio de Janeiro. My mom also sold a lot for us, and she didn't ask anything to do this job for us. Friends of my mom sold for us too, asking nothing to do it. We sold to neighbors, relatives and friends.

We also started participating of fairs, shows and events. Every Sunday, my husband was going to a turistic and historical town in the mountains close to Rio de Janeiro called Petrópolis (that means the "Town of Pedro" because the king Don Pedro II and his family were used to have vacations there a century ago). It is a charming town and go there to sell is like to have a kind of short vacation too. The sales in this place was like to earn a week paycheck. We could live the week with that money we earnt on the Sundays.

The only problem about fairs is the weather. If the weather was bad, we didn't get much. But, fortunately, the weather in Rio de Janeiro state is like to have summer during the entire year. Life was good.

PS.: Dear readers (if there is someone awake yet), next post I will tell you why I thought we were like the North American indians...

sexta-feira, 24 de julho de 2009

A weird coincidence


Now I have to go back again to the past. When I was just a teenager, a scout girl, camping and selling cookies to get money to help other people, I had a boyfriend, so young as me. He was not a "boyfriend" as we understand this word today. We just kissed quickly each other only once. But he was my first "love", that one we "die" for. I will call him D. here in this story.

I guess all of us had someone like that, the "sweetheart" of the high school. If one gets to marry this person, then he or she has a great chance to be happily married to the rest of his life. This was not what happenned to me. We had to be apart. I never cried so much in my life as I cried for D.. It wasn't his or my fault. We were too young and had to live too far from each other and there were other circunstances too. So, D. was my first and impossible love. We didn't see each other since I was 15. I didn't know what happened to him, where he lived, nothing. We lost the contact.

Then, lets go "back to the future" again...I was at home creating and making miniatures, with my two babies to take care and my unemployed husband walking around trying to sell my miniatures at the stores. Now he was going far from our home. He was visiting the downtown stores. The Rio de Janeiro town has thousands of stores.

Do you know what happened? He found a store called "Leila". Well, Leila is my name. Naturally, my husband went to talk to the owner to get some business, and in the middle of the conversation he told where we lived and that the name of the store and my name were the same! The store owner told to my husband that years ago he knew someone from that place...

Well, readers, you can guess who the store owner was! He was D.!!! Oh my God! How my husband ended up meeting him??!!! There were thousands of stores! I myself had never met him again since I was a girl. And the name of the store? Why the store had my first name? Had it been just a weird coincidence?

Sure, D. bought some of my miniatures and even sent me a gift after he figured out that I was his old sweetheart. However I didn't want to exploit this connection, if you know what I mean... I just persuaded my husband to visit other stores and forget about the "Leila" store. And it was what happened. I didn't meet or talk to D. in this occasion. I did't want. He also didn't look for me.

I kept myseld creating new characters. I made some dolls.



PS.: Next post I will tell about the shows and fairs we started participating.

quinta-feira, 23 de julho de 2009

Dear readers...


Well, now I know there is at least one reader! As you know (maybe not yet!), I am telling the story of my miniatures and how I started. I want to tell how everything happenned until the day of today. Then, you will know what I am doing now and what is coming next. It seems that there will be a lot to tell, but not really. Although I have started selling my miniatures in 1978, I stopped during many years.

Readers are like friends of us. They give us a bit (or a lot) of their attention. If they are serious, I don't mind if they become critical. My main goal is to share my experience. What I learnt in this way and what I am still learning.

As I told in my second post, I started from nothing, I knew nothing and I didn't have a formal learning. I learnt by myself. That time there wasn't internet, videos, youtube, tutorials or even books about making miniatures (at least not in my country). I was a mom of 2 babies, had a lot to do at home, no money at all and the unemployment as knocking my door. I had to do something! I could do a lot of different things, but I don't know why I just wanted to make miniatures.

After selling to the stores close to my home, my husband went a little further and we got to sell to other stores of the town, not only in our neighborhood. I created new characters: an angel and an indian mom with a baby in her back. They look like as they were from the same "family".

PS.: Next post I will tell you about a special store that my husband found during those days. You just have to know about it. It was a weird coincidence. It got me thinking and you will be too.



Miniatures as a source of money


The pack of clay stayed in my garage completely forgotten during years... I was a bit older and got married. A year later, we had a baby and soon I was pregnant again. It was when my husband became unemployed and soon we would be running out of money. Being almost 6 months pregnant, I couldn't get a regular job. So, I got an idea. I went to my parents garage looking for that clay I knew was still there.

The good thing about natural clay is that you just have to add some water, wait few days and you can use it again. It was what I did. So, I thought about making something to sell with that clay. The heads I had made before would be too difficult to sell. Who would buy a head? No one. Then I thought about making something that people would like to buy just for fun. Just to have it.

That day I made a pair of little stylized dogs, some turtles and worms... They didn't take long to dry outside. Rio de Janeiro, where I live, is a warm place! As soon as the miniatures dried, I should burn it in the oven, but I hadn't a special oven to burn the pieces! I tried the kitchen oven, but it didn't work. It wasn't hot enough. So, I decided to leave the miniatures only as dried clay. Later I learnt that this is called "cold ceramic".

So, I had to paint the miniatures, but what ink should I get? I had ink to paint wood and metal at home. It is the ink we get to paint doors and gates. I painted the miniatures with this ink. It took a lot long to dry, but it worth. After painted, the miniatures were shinning! Still, the thick layer of ink gave some protection to the pieces.

Next, my husband went outside to sell the miniatures while I stayed at home making more. He tried to sell it to the stores and he got it. He got to place all of them in our neighborhood stores! We had to make more!

quarta-feira, 22 de julho de 2009

How I started making miniatures

It was more than 30 years ago. I was still a teenager and was playing at the beach with some friends during a winter day when I found that there was a layer of clay in the ground. I didn't know what was that, but got a bit of the clay and made a small female head. But it was heavy, so I made it again smaller. Then, I did like it. I didn't know anything about modeling or sculpting. I just found that I knew how to make it.
When I was in my way back home, I had some of the clay in my bag. Later I found that I could buy clay. I still keep the two heads I made that day. It is already broken after 3 or 4 movings. Now it looks like an ancient greek or roman piece found in a archaeological site. The nose is missing as part of the smaller one's face, but it is still my first miniatures.

I didn't do it long. After some months I had forgotten about the clay. The left over clay was kept in my garage. However, years later I had to look for this stuff again. In the next post I will tell you why.

PS.: Dear readers - if there is at least one! - I hope I am doing ok with the english language and you get to understand what I say. There are a lot of translators on web, but it doesn't work well. My first language is Portuguese.

domingo, 19 de julho de 2009

Hi everyone!

I'm just starting this blog. It is under construction yet! Soon, I will be posting pictures, tips and tutorials.