Keepin' It Real



 I've thought about posting for quite awhile now. What's stopped me most times is the heeYOUge amount of spew that burbles up inside me every time I even contemplate sitting down at my computer. An intentional ...VERY intentional... process. Down in my studio. Under the counter. At the back. Where I'll need a clear space to plop it down. All the spew rises and rises and I think, NOBODY wants to hear that. So I sew something. Or make some prints. Or simply ...and more likely... walk back upstairs. 

Months have passed. And still not much has changed. Except the seasons. And here we are in the drawing the curtains closed, hunkering down, long evenings part of the year. And all I want to do is make things for sale. My inner craftsperson rearing its head yet again. 

My inner voice is conflicted. As always. 

Y'know I really thought I'd be over this by now. I  thought I would be a self-actualized Professional Artist (yes. capitalized.) with a real following. Solo Shows. Gallery representation. And exhibitions. And patrons. But it seems that isn't the way my art career is going. has gone. I lurch. I'm a professional lurching artist. (small letters. no caps. always.) I think, every October/November, "I need to sell stuff. Christmas stuff. to all my adoring fans." I realize by December I'm too late for THAT boat and vow to make it all different NEXT year. I will PRODUCE. I will make a schedule. I will ramp up my blog, create Content for my Social Media platforms. Throw heaps of Love on my cherished Newsletter subscribers. I will have monthly, weekly, daily Campaigns. And I will finally get my shit TOGETHER. 

 Because I waffle. Between wanting ALL those things and well, NOT wanting all those things. Or more accurately, not wanting it to feel like work. Like somehow the world owes me an easy career. I can just do what I want and everyone will wait with bated breath and say, "Thank You!" when I bestow my next creation on the world. I'm not even going to get into the "whys" of all that ridiculousness suffice it to say, "Uhm. White Privilege much." (and a whole whack of other self-analysis mumbo jumbo that bores me to tears.)

2020 however was gonna be different. (ha!) The interest in my artwork was growing. I'd made a realistic plan: Daily Insta/FB posts, Weekly blog posts, Monthly Newsletter posts. Created a list themes and hung it by my desk. Marked out deadlines each month on my new calendar. Even found an amazing editor to go over my writing. Yep. 2020 was gonna be (finally!) my step out year. 

Oh. The irony.

So. Here it is the end of October and all I want to do is sell Christmas stuff. Again.

Thing is? I actually have a bunch of stuff I'd made before the Pandemic reared its ugly head. Some small, easily mailed encaustic pieces. Some wire and rock fripperies. Some ...okay... an INSANE amount... of gel prints. And y'know what? I think I'm going to do this. I think maybe it's gonna be okay. I still have time to get things mailed before Christmas and even if they aren't specifically holiday related, they might be just what you're looking for your sister or aunty or maybe even your uncle (fripperies make dynamite key chains. just sayin'.)

Soon, VERY soon, I'll be sending out a newsletter with what I have to offer. Plus more on the way. So if you want to know? Sign up

Thanks for helping me get my shit ...and 2020... back together!

2 comments

  1. Ya gotta be kind to yourself. In a pandemic, all the rules change. Daily stresses are a real thing as we are bombarded by negative energy and news. Give yourself a pass on 2020 and keep making cool shit as 2021 commences - as they're seriously beautiful works of art.

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    1. Thanks for the vote of confidence! Maybe 2021 will be my break out year. 😊

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