Artistic Judgement

            One of the fun (here, fun means “horrible”) things about being an artist – no matter the medium – is an inability to judge the quality of your own work. Or, rather, we can judge our own work, but we do so on a scale of Dreadful to I Guess It’s Kinda Okay.

            When I was just out of high school, and still fairly new to making chainmaille, I made a project that was my then-crowning achievement. It was a chainmaille vest made using a pattern known as elf-weave – one of the most complicated chainmaille weaves in existence. The shirt has over 100 hours of work in it, and looks great. But it has a flaw in it. Somehow, while I was making it, I managed to combine two rows into one, losing half a row.

            Even though the flaw isn’t visible to anyone not looking for it – and someone without excellent pattern recognition skills is unlikely to spot it – it is very hard to see. But to me, the creator, that tiny flaw is a horrible oversight, all but ruining the shirt.

            Talk to any artist and they’ll tell you similar tales. Ask them about a specific project and they’ll be able to tell you every flaw in minute detail. This line is out of place, that note was performed slightly off, and that part that goes in should have gone out but it couldn’t be fixed without destroying the whole thing.

            Each new created piece of artwork that manages to meet the artist’s approval is the best piece they’ve made to date – in fact, it’s so good, it makes all the previous pieces rubbish. Not that it’s any good....

            I think that this harsh self-judgement is part of what pushes artists forward, encouraging them to strive to improve their craft and make more projects. But, at the same time it’s disheartening, because nothing is ever good enough. People may shower our work with praise, but can’t they see that flaw right there? They must be lying.

            What is it that makes a creator so hard on their work? Seeing all the minute details that they had to be aware of in order to create it. An outside observer – even other artists – didn’t painstakingly draw each line, write each word, or link each ring together. As such, they look at the whole – the completed project. They don’t see the mistakes, because they have no idea that they are mistakes. They’re too busy being distracted by everything that was done right to notice what was done wrong.

            A valuable lesson that all artists should learn is how to step back from the project and observe it without their artistic lens. It is true that we must always strive to better our art, but sometimes we need to step back, look at the whole, and appreciate what we’ve accomplished. Otherwise we may forget how well we’re doing and give up.

Click here to find the charity anthology containing a couple of my short stories.

Also, make sure you check out my wife's blog and her website.


If there's any subject you'd like to see me ramble on about, feel free to leave a comment asking me to do so.

DM for a Cure

            Coming up on May 13th, I get to be part of a wonderful event. A twelve. Hour. Dungeons and Dragons. Marathon. That’s right: twelve hours straight of Dungeons and Dragons – and not just for the sake of doing it (although that’s a good enough reason), but to raise money for the fight against cystic fibrosis. It is going to be glorious (and exhausting).

            How did I get involved? Well, the DM of my weekly D&D game at my local board game cafe has a daughter with cystic fibrosis. He mentioned he was planning this event, along with the cafe, and was working on organising the DMs to get it to happen. Knowing that I’m terrible at fundraising (what do you mean, I have to leave the house and talk to people?), I immediately volunteered to be a DM.

            As I learned more about the event, I also discovered there were going to be prizes. Well, I thought, just about anyone interested in D&D will have an appreciation of chainmaille. So I donated some dice bags, a couple dragons, and an armoured teddy-bear. Meanwhile, Colleen signed up as a player and will be raising as much money as she can (the players get more in-game benefits the more they raise). We’re committed to doing our part to fight cystic fibrosis.

            At first I was a bit concerned about how much interest there would be in the event – I mean, it’s a long day, lots of fundraising, and not everyone can make the time for such things even if they are interested. We had four Dungeon Masters, which meant we had room for 24 players – that’s a lot of seats to fill. Then registration opened on April 5th. I needn’t have worried. By the time Colleen and arrived at the cafe for our weekly D&D (6:30pm), over half the spots were already filled. By the third day of registration, every seat was filled. Three days.

            Now I’m just getting more excited as the day grows closer. Not only will this be a fun game to run, but I’m eager to see how much money our efforts raise. And now, you can look forward to it, too, because it will give me a great story to share with you.

Click here to find the charity anthology containing a couple of my short stories.

Also, make sure you check out my wife's blog and her website.


If there's any subject you'd like to see me ramble on about, feel free to leave a comment asking me to do so.

Peanutbutter and Patience

            Last Monday morning, our house rang was filled with singing. The song on our lips was “Ding Dong, the Rat is Dead”. That’s right – we finally caught that Rat, Donald, bringing an end to this particular saga.

            How did we do it, though? How did we finally, after two and a half months, catch this elusive pest? With peanutbutter and patience.

            As you may recall from the previous episode in this saga, we left off with Donald regularly eating a mixture of poison and peanutbutter in our closet, observed with a recently installed camera. This part of the tale continues from there.

            After the second night of filming Donald, the rat had finished off his poison-peanutbutter concoction. Because he should have been long dead from a lethal dose of poison by now, we decided that, rather than mixing more, we’d put in straight-up poison pellets. That night, Donald came – and he ate his fill of the poison, alternating with sniffing around in search of the peanutbutter he had been eating every night for almost a month, obviously disappointed.

            Then he freaked out.

            After a frantic search of the closet, Donald hopped up on the pipes and started shredding his way through the expanding foam that blocked what used to be his entrance to the kitchen. For a full hour (he usually only stayed in the closet for 10-15 minutes) he worked at finding a way through, but his efforts were in vain.

            And now we knew his weakness.

            The electrocution trap was already in the closet, so we cleaned it up and re-baited it with peanutbutter on a cracker. Unfortunately, when we turned it on it wasn’t functioning properly. So, we handed it off to my father-in-law to fix and, in the meantime, put a black plastic snap-trap (also baited with peanutbutter) in its place.

            That night, Donald showed up. He sniffed around and came close to going for the peanutbutter in the trap, but he looked like he’d seen such a trap in action before. He left, having only eaten a couple pieces of poison.

            The next day, we reinstated the electrocution trap, moved the black snap trap to a place Donald had spent a lot of time, and added a traditional rat trap – baited with peanutbutter, of course. Surly, eventually, Donald’s ability to resist would fade. So we waited. And the dirty rat didn’t even show up.

            For three days and nights, we saw neither whisker nor tail of the troublesome rat. We started to think Donald was dead – that the poison had finally kicked in.

Then, on the fourth night... something went haywire with my computer, and it didn’t manage to save the video from overnight. But, as we looked at the live feed that only a quarter of was visible on my messed-up monitor, we noticed first the empty poison container that was in the wrong location. Then we noticed a tail. A very still tail.

            We rushed downstairs and looked in the closet. Sure enough, there, in the black snap trap, was Donald. The poison was scattered, the traditional trap had been sprung as well, and there was peanutbutter everywhere. So, now we’re left wondering, what happened in the closet that night? Without the video, we’ll never know.

            At any rate, here’s to Donald! May he rest in peace. He was a worthy opponent and a downright nuisance. What more could a rat hope to have said of him?

Click here to find the charity anthology containing a couple of my short stories.

Also, make sure you check out my wife's blog and her website.


If there's any subject you'd like to see me ramble on about, feel free to leave a comment asking me to do so.

Hierarchical Flaws

            While pondering about society, as I am wont to do, I came across something I view as a critical flaw. The hierarchy of many of our systems works backwards.

            We’ll start by looking at the workforce. In order for society to function, people need to perform various jobs. To encourage people to do these jobs, they are paid money – which they require so they can go on eating and paying bills and such. This isn’t entirely bad, but the desperate need for money does.

            In ancient times, it was possible for people without a source of money to live off the land and, if they needed to, go out into the wilderness and build themselves a home. Now, at least in first world countries, they can’t do that. Not only have we lost the basic skill sets, but even if we wanted to go homesteading we’d still have to buy the land and pay taxes on it. We’d need a job.

            Having a job to make money has become such a desperate need that people destroy themselves and their mental health just to get and keep one. This is made worse by the shortage of jobs – employers have been given the leverage that if you don’t do the job exactly how they want you to, they can easily replace you. This adds to the pressure of a job and has the employees working under threat (rather than positive motivation) and creates a harmful relationship between employers and employees.

            In short, people are desperate for money, so they will do work they hate in harmful environments to keep their employers happy. But, what if that were reversed? What if, instead of people pushing themselves further and further to get and keep jobs, employers had to entice the best employees to come work for them? What if it became the employer’s responsibility to make people want to work or them?

            Some companies with enough money to throw around already do this, but in many of the biggest companies it has become just a gesture. There are “Benefits” given to the employees, but where is the effort to make the employees enjoy the work environment? Any given employer shouldn’t be driving their employees with a whip, but a member of the team working to make everything run smoothly. They should be as accountable to their employees as the employees are to them.

            The same theory can be applied to governments. There is a great divide between governments and their people, because we have this idea the government members are in charge of the rest of us. They wield the power, after all. People talk about the government as if they are an alien race.

            Yet, if everything functioned as it should, people could bring problems to the government to get them resolved. Yes, that is partially available through the court system, but that doesn’t work for everything. How much faster would potholes get fixed if the government was more approachable?

            Our world is divided into hierarchies, with the idea that the person below has to do whatever the person above says. This structure is needed because there needs to be someone observing what is happening – someone who is not directly involved who can see the whole picture and direct the flow to ensure productivity and efficiency. However, if that person is “better than” their underlings, they become more of a problem than a help. It’s all very well telling people something has to be done, but if you don’t know if it’s possible or if the manpower exists for it, you’re just causing problems. When there is a view of equality, the underlings can express their concerns and the problems with instructions and, together, the team can find a solution.

            Being at the top of a hierarchy is a responsibility, but it has become a goal and a perk – which is the inherent problem with a hierarchical structure. Once someone has been given the power, why should they bother with more than they have to? Why should they listen to the people below them?

            It keep things running smoothly and properly, that’s why.

Click here to find the charity anthology containing a couple of my short stories.

Also, make sure you check out my wife's blog and her website.


If there's any subject you'd like to see me ramble on about, feel free to leave a comment asking me to do so.