Balancing Act

After reading Dougy Fresh's latest blog post, I realized how hard I've been slacking updating the Ghostship website. (I'm also busy chasing the cat around my dirty studio, trying to keep him from eating bugs, spray can caps, dust and anything else he can fit his mouth on). It's a delicate balancing act. Which is the precise reason for the lack of updates here in the past several months. Lots of things have been going on. Shake-ups in my personal life, big changes at work (no, I'm not making a living from Ghostship) to name a couple. Cyclocross season is here so training has been replacing time at the drawing table and in the silk screening studio. Freelance projects have also taken over things on the creative end. I guess what I'm getting at is trying to balance everything I'm involved with is a pretty delicate thing. Certain elements become prioritized over others and in turn, some become complete pushed off the shelf.

I continually hear people tell me that I should be making profit, or that I could be making profit off of Gship. I liken the Ghostship "business model" (it may not even be fair to use the word business...if you're never in business from the start, you can never go out of business, right?) to that of early punk rock or hardcore bands. It's not about the money. I make barely enough to cover my material costs, maybe even a little (if I'm lucky) to get some more blank shirts or stickers (if I'm really lucky). Make stuff, try to sell it, give some of it away, make some more, the process continues.

Ghostship to me, is really a giant art project. I do it purely for the love and satisfaction of seeing a piece evolve from the start and become a finished product. It's also extremely satisfying seeing someone stoked on a piece of art or shirt we've created. It's pretty similar to the reason I race cyclocross. I'm not a great racer. I don't chase points. I've won more cash and prizes from disorganized alleycats than formal bicycle races. So why spend $20-$30 in entry fees, $40 for a tank of gas to get there, and who knows how much in parts, accessories, clothing, etc, that you need to race? It's fun. Addictive. It's punk rock on a road bike. I get to act like a dirt-bag bike racer to piss off the starched-collar, prissy roadies. Plenty of reasons.

I guess the short of what I'm trying to (hopefully somewhat successfully) convey, is that you can't force artistic process. Ghostship is still here. Even if things are a little quiet now and then, you can always drop us a line on the dreaded Facebook, or follow our Twitter feed. Thank you everyone who has supported us in the past and continues to support us now.