Exhausted, Elated and Grateful.
This weekend I packed up every piece of jewelry that I have made in the last year, loaded up my truck with show equipment and went to set up a booth at a local art show that I have been doing annually for a number a years.
If you haven’t done a weekend art or fine craft show like this, it’s hard to explain what it takes physically and emotionally. Not only does my Peri-menopausal brain need a list to ensure that I have everything that I need including water, lunch, lighting, tables, chair, displays, power strips, extension cords, duct tape for emergencies and various tools and doo-dads “just in case”, but I also have to be in decent enough physical shape to haul 40+ lb crates, stand for hours, be engaging, and even more importantly pack less tangible things like thick skin, confidence, and positivity.
I am by nature a pessimist, but after years of doing shows, I have learned that if you go into one with that pessimism you will indeed make your own destiny. People feel your energy whether they know it or not, and they feed off that energy at your booth. Staying upbeat and “on” in this situation for this particular snarky, human with trust issues, is a lot of work.
For a socially awkward introvert like myself* entering a room full of people in any normal situation is difficult, imagine what it takes to lay out your soul on a literal table and engage with people, baring your core to complete strangers by allowing them into your world of art making.
By some miracle**, in these moments, while I’m answering questions about process, how I select my stones, and discuss my inspiration, I lose all my usual pretext of worry and discomfort. The artist inside me emerges from her turtle shell and for these moments I am able to discuss details and provide interesting anecdotes while fascinated eyes peer in and nod and smile. People seem genuinely happy to learn more about the person who made “all the stuff” and how she made it.
After these many years of greeting the public in this way I have learned where my work will be appreciated and where it will not..
For instance, I know through experience*** that craft shows by their very nature are the antithesis to my success. In fact if there is a hell, in my version I will be forced to set up a table over and over in the basement of a church surrounded by crocheted toaster covers and sequin encrusted Styrofoam xmas ornaments across from “the kid’s table”. I know this, because I’ve been there, too many times. Those peeps, no matter how talented they may be at what they do… ain’t my tribe.
I have also happily learned that my work is not everyone’s cup of tea, and that’s ok. I make art and some people are thrilled with something sparkly from the hallmark store. I’ve made my peace with that, and I am happier for that knowledge because those who “get” what I do, really, really get it. For them, my work speaks to them as strongly as the creative drive speaks to me as I make it. And for those people, I am eternally grateful. They truly see the value in my work, they understand that part of me lives within it, they wear it near their hearts, they buy it for remembrance, for strength, for milestones, and for people they love.
Those people found me this weekend.
Those peeps are my tribe.
It is for them that I keep on going, keep listening to my muse. They are the reason that I stay up late to get out one last idea, have file marks in my fingernails, puncture wounds on my hands, and dirt under my fingernails. They get me. And I love them for it.
To them I say from the bottom of my heart and from the depths of my soul – THANK YOU.
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* - seriously I’ve missed high fives because I didn’t “get it”.
** - Pretty sure it’s the magic of my glittery black doc martens…
*** - and many tearful nights considering selling my tools and diving from a clock tower.
