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Somewhere in the last year the old tuner in the studio stopped finding anything but Czech Radio Vltava, and at first this annoyed me because I like to choose. Now I don't touch it. It comes on when I unlock the door, goes off when I leave, and the whole day has a soundtrack of string quartets and a woman reading poetry I half understand because I am usually not listening. What I notice: the work goes better on the days I don't touch the dial. Not because of the music. Because the dial is one less decision, and I make enough of those dragging a rusted gate hinge across the floor to see if it belongs in the corner or by the window. I have a friend who works in total silence. He says the radio is noise. I think he is wrong but I would not argue it with him, he is bigger than me. Anyway. The station plays a weather report for farmers at ten past six and I have started planning my day around it, which is a ridiculous thing for a man who has not touched soil since 1989 to do. But the man on the radio sounds like he knows something I don't, and I trust him more than the gallery. That's the whole post, really.

Small thing but it's thrown me. The little Roberts radio in the studio, the one with the aerial held on with a strip of gaffer, finally gave up after about fifteen years. Took it apart, cleaned the dial, nothing. So it's just me and the noise of the house now. And I've discovered the washing machine has a rhythm to it. Not a nice one either. It's a sort of thunk-thunk-thunk-whirr that sets up a tempo I did not ask for, and I've caught myself carving to it. Small controlled cuts, then a long pause at the whirr. Took me two days to cop that my hand was following a spin cycle. The hare's ear I'm working on is now in 4/4 whether it wants to be or not. I'm not one for the headphones thing either, tried it, the earphones kept pulling the block sideways when I leaned over. So I'm left with options. Talk radio in the morning, which is a mistake because I end up arguing with it and losing my line. Or one of the kids' story tapes on the little speaker, which honestly is winning at the moment, there's a version of the Children of Lir on it that's grand to work to. Pointless question I know, but I'm genuinely curious what's on in other people's rooms when the work is happening. Music, silence, the telly through the wall, the dog snoring. I've a feeling the answer says a lot about the person. Mine currently says: I am carving a hare to the beat of a load of whites.

I keep meaning to bring a speaker in and I keep not doing it. So it's the little grey radio, antenna snapped off years ago, and it sits on the windowsill where it gets exactly one station if the window is open a crack and none if it isn't. Right now it's a mattress warehouse jingle, and I've heard it so many times that I've started humming it while I mix washes, which is a new low. The thing is I can't work in silence. Tried it. Spent a whole afternoon staring at a half-finished panel of my mother's old kitchen wallpaper and the silence got so loud I could hear the radiator tick. Put the radio back on and got three hours in. My friend June works with headphones and full albums and no interruptions, very disciplined, and I've decided I don't want that. I want the mattress jingle and the traffic report and the local guy who does the obituaries on Sundays. It's company. Somebody's in the room. Anyway. The panel is still ugly but it's less ugly with noise.

The radio died about an hour into carving this morning, or more accurately it's alive but only picking up one station now, and that station is a woman talking very slowly about her allotment. I've listened to forty minutes about potatoes. I know more about that woman's seed beds than I know about my own children at this point. And the thing is I can't turn it off because turning it off means admitting the silence is worse, and I'm not ready to have that conversation with myself before lunch. It's a small thing though. The block's going well. New hare, and I keep catching myself carving the same eye I carved the last three times, and it's either a style or a blockage and I'll find out which when I pull the proof. Some days the radio fills the room and some days it's just noise and today it's a woman and her potatoes and I'm oddly fine with it. Sure the head on it.

there's a clock radio in the studio, the kind with the red numbers, and the antenna broke off years ago so it gets exactly one station and half of it is static. I keep meaning to fix it. I never fix it. so the day has a shape now. some point in the afternoon the same furniture ad comes on and I know I'm about two hours from losing the light. I've started pacing myself to it without deciding to. heard that ad read so many times I can say it along with the guy. he sounds tired. I respect it. tried a playlist last week, lasted twenty minutes, everything about it felt like someone else in the room telling me how to feel. the static doesn't have opinions. anyway the paper I've been layering for the last three days is still buckling at the edges and I can't decide if I'm going to fight it or let it do that. leaning toward letting it.

The tuning knob on my shop radio is broken off at the shaft. It has been like that since about 2004. So the station is whatever it was when it broke, and it stays there. Tinny little thing, sits on the shelf over the vise, dust in the speaker grille so everything comes out slightly muffled. People come in to look at the work and they hear it and get this look. Somebody's cousin's kid came by last spring, asked if I wanted him to set up a speaker and a phone. I said no. Here is the thing. I do not listen to it. It is not music to me anymore, it is a clock. Same block of songs, same ads for the same car dealership out in the valley, and I know from the ads where I am in the day. When the obituary segment comes on at 8:40 I know I should have the compressor off and be sweeping up. It is more reliable than my watch. I do not need to be entertained while I work. I need to know what time it is without stopping to look.

Everyone thinks the studio is loud. It's not. Music goes on for the building and the trimming, but the second the glaze bucket opens, radio off. Full silence. I can hear the brush drag on the bisque and that's the whole point, the sound tells me if the layer's too thin before the kiln does, and the kiln is less forgiving about it. Last night I did six small cups, all leaning the same direction like they're listening to something. Three of them I swear the glaze went on perfect. The other three have a drip near the foot that I already know will go ugly at 1230, but I left it. Sometimes the drip is the piece, you know? Sometimes it's just a drip. The silence also means I hear the neighbours fighting through the wall. So. Pros and cons. Anyway the kiln opens Thursday morning and I'm not sleeping Wednesday. That part never gets easier, everyone tells me it does, it does not.

There's an old radio in the studio, a Grundig my abuelo had in the kitchen, and it only picks up anything if the antenna is wrapped in a bit of foil and propped at exactly the angle I found by accident two years ago. If I move it, silence. If I bump the shelf, silence. So I don't move it. I've built the whole morning around it. It has to be on before I open the clay bag, always the same station, some talk program where a man argues with callers about football and then they play boleros. I don't even like the program. But if it's quiet in there I start hearing my own head too much and then I sit looking at the piece for twenty minutes doing nothing. I tried to replace it once, bought a cheap bluetooth speaker, and I used it for three days and then went back to the foil. The speaker works perfect. Maybe that's the problem. Anyway it died this morning mid-sentence, no reason, and I spent an hour with my hands wet and no sound at all. Got more done than usual and I hated it. Anyone else got a thing in the studio that's broken in a useful way?

Had a little handheld radio on the shelf by my worktable for years. Played NPR or whatever local station came in clear. It died three weeks ago and I just never replaced it. Didn't even realize until today that I've been working in silence the whole time. And the work's been better. Honestly a little jarring to admit that. I thought the noise was helping me concentrate but apparently it was just company. Now I'm wondering what else I've got in here that I think I need and actually don't. The room is really quiet now though. My neighbor two units over is a woodworker and I can hear his saw through the wall sometimes. That's probably enough.

There's a local AM station I picked up by accident years ago, mostly static, plays big band and then a farm report and then more static. I've made almost everything in this room with it on. Tried a playlist once, felt like I was working in someone else's kitchen. today I noticed I know the ads by heart. the feed store on Route 9, some insurance guy named Dean. I could recite Dean's whole thing. that's how long it's been on. the static is the part I actually need. it's a wall. if the room is too quiet I can hear the building and then I'm just a woman standing in a room thinking about the building. anyway the tuner's drifted off it again this week and I haven't fixed it. weirdly the new position is better. slightly worse reception, one more layer of hum under the horns. keeping it. what's the actual noise in your space. not the aspirational one

I had a gallery keep my pieces for nine months once. Nine. Every couple weeks a "we're so close, we love this work" email, then radio silence. I finally asked for everything back and they acted offended, like I was the unreasonable one. I still don't know if it was real interest or just them collecting work for the wall space. What's the longest a gallery has kept you dangling? And how did you finally pull the plug, or did you?

okay I need to know if this is just me or if this is like, a rite of passage. I spent FOUR MONTHS talking to a gallery last year. Emails back and forth, sent them a whole portfolio, they loved it, we talked about a show timeline, I got my hopes way up. Then nothing. I followed up twice, polite, casual, and just got radio silence. Not even a "we went another direction." Just disappeared into the void. I was so embarrassed I didn't tell anyone for months lol like I'd been scammed by a situationship. Has this happened to you? What's the longest a gallery has strung you along before ghosting? Or did you ever get a follow-up years later that made it make sense? I need solidarity here 😭

okay so I keep thinking about this and I wanna know if I'm the only one this has happened to. I had a gallery owner literally shake my hand at a studio visit, say "these are perfect, let's get you on the books," and then... nothing. never heard from them again. I followed up twice, polite but not pushy, and just got radio silence. did this happen to anyone else?? like is this just part of the game or did I do something wrong? I'm still pretty new to this whole gallery thing and I honestly don't know if I should've been more aggressive or if they just got busy and forgot or what. my take rn is that handshake means nothing until there's a signature but man it stung a little haha. tell me your ghosting stories so I don't feel like the only one 🥲

I got so sick of the game I just stopped. No stories, no posts, nothing. Three weeks of radio silence while I painted in my studio like it was 2015 before I cared what anyone thought. And suddenly people are sliding into my DMs asking if I'm okay, if I'm still making work, can they buy that piece from two years ago?? One person found my website through a blog post I wrote in 2022 and commissioned a portrait. A PORTRAIT. Off a blog I forgot existed. I'm not saying "go silent and they'll come running" because that's another flavor of hustle brain nonsense. But damn. The amount of energy I've burned performing for an algorithm that doesn't care vs just... existing and letting people find me when they need to. I don't know what to do with that information honestly.

okay so i sent a really solid application to a small gallery i've admired for ages, like actually tailored the email, referenced specific artists they show, the whole thing. and then... nothing. not even an automated response. it's been three weeks and i keep checking my sent folder like maybe i imagined sending it lol. i know galleries get flooded and i know i'm being impatient but honestly the not-knowing is worse than a no. i'd genuinely rather get a "not for us, but thanks" than just radio silence. so what do you do when a gallery ghosts you? do you follow up once? twice? do you just write it off and move on? or have you ever had a ghost come back weeks later with a yes and felt insane about it??

gallery reached out to me a while back, said they loved the work, wanted to "figure something out." then radio silence for months. i emailed twice, got nothing. finally i just let it die and moved on. six months later they pop back up like nothing happened. i'm still a little embarrassed i let it go that long. where's the line for you, how many months of ghosting before you write it off? or do you always chase?

ok story time because I need to know if this is just a me thing. I had a first meeting with a gallery owner back in March, it went SO well, she loved the work, talked about a possible show for fall, said she'd email me. And then... nothing. I followed up twice, got one "so sorry, crazy month!" and then radio silence again. It's been like four months. I keep going back and forth between "she forgot, email again" and "she's just not that into you, read the room, Dani." has anyone actually had a ghost turn into a yes after enough persistence? or is silence always the answer? and be honest, how many times did you email before you gave up?

ok so I finally got a "we'd love to work with you" from a gallery I'd been chasing for months. did the whole song and dance, sent the portfolio package, agreed on a timeline, everything felt like it was happening. and then... nothing. just radio silence. they stopped replying to emails. I sent a polite check-in two weeks later, nothing. another one a month later, nothing. still have no idea what happened. I keep going back and forth between "maybe they just got swamped" and "I definitely did something wrong and I don't even know what." has this happened to anyone else?? did they ever resurface or did you just write it off? I need to know if this is just how it goes sometimes or if I'm the only one sitting here like 👁️👄👁️ staring at my sent folder

For years I had to have something on, podcasts, playlists, the radio, whatever. Fill the silence. I thought it helped me concentrate. Then about three months ago my headphones broke and I was too lazy to replace them, so I just worked without. First week felt naked, like something was missing. Second week I started noticing the sound of the brush. That little wet drag across the panel, the tick of the ferrule against the easel, the way linseed oil makes a certain quiet suction sound when you wipe a brush on a rag. Now I can't go back. The silence isn't empty, it's full of information about what I'm doing. I hear when I'm forcing the paint versus letting it glide. I hear hesitation in the pause before a stroke. My husband thinks I've become a monk. Maybe. But I've been painting better these three months than I have in years, and I think part of it is just finally listening.

I spent the better part of a year trading emails with a gallery. Sent them my portfolio, did the follow-up dance, had what felt like real conversations about a show. Then radio silence for three months. Eventually I got a "we've decided to go in a different direction" email. No explanation, no nothing. I've got a theory that some galleries just keep a couple artists on the hook in case their first choice falls through. Am I wrong? Anyone else been the backup option?