I've been a wee bit down the last few days. I was schmoozing with artisans and store owners who have been in the biz for almost 30 years. It was a chance to compare notes and check in on how their businesses were doing.
The news wasn't good.
Most of them are my age. But they started their careers in craft much sooner than I did.
They caught the big wave in the early eighties, supporting families, paying the mortgage. They rode the boom right on through to the big wipe-out of the dot com crash.
Now they say, "No one cares about quality anymore." They say, "Schools don't teach art anymore, and young people don't appreciate handmade craft." They say, "Our former customers can't afford our work anymore. And young people wants instant design from the big box stores!" They say, "Pottery Barn is killing us!" They say, "Everyone knows that stores and catalog companies will knock off your designs, because they have to mark up the jewelry 5 times, and they can only do that with the stuff they can buy from China."
I'm full of questions about what my next step is. But I realized I won't find my answers here. These folks are just as bewildered and dismayed as I am.
If these talented, experienced artisans can't figure it out, what chance do I have?
Well... What's worked for me in the past?
If I set aside the doomsday voices for a moment and take stock, it turns out it's not as bad as it looks.
I'm actually no worse off than when I started this whole venture eight years ago. In fact, I'm actually doing pretty well.
I have just about as much work as I can handle right now. No, I can't support a family on what I make--yet. But my work has improved and deepened every year. My prices have gone up accordingly. I have fewer sales during these lean years, but more dollars from each sale.
I've changed my focus from "what will the people at this particular show buy?" to "who would buy this wonderful work and how do I get it in front of them?"
Give me time to build my reputation (which is off to a great start) and get my ducks in a row, and then we'll see what happens.
After all, when I began, I didn't even know what success was. I already knew what failure was.
Failure wasn't about "no sales." It was about being so fearful and unhappy I wasn't even MAKING the art. I was too scared to even make art.
Once I started making my wall hangings, they started to sell. Slowly...but steadily. My jewelry began to find its market and passionate collectors. And now my sculptures are getting noticed, too.
I knew from the outset that my path was going to be different than anyone else's. Everything I do--from the kind of work I make, to how I market it, to where I want it displayed, and where I want to go with it--is new territory.
I get scared when I started to listen to other artists who are scared.
A good friend once said, "Your path is different because to you, it's not all about the money. And you refuse to define your success strictly in terms of money. Is that good? Is that bad? Neither. It's just DIFFERENT."
I grant you DIFFERENT is also SLOWER. But I've seen first-hand what happens to people who ONLY define their success by money. It's definitely not for me.
To work and make art without fear.... That was a beautiful place to be in. My goal is to get back to that place once more.
And here are some words I found hugely reassuring today. Read what Dominique Brown, editor of HOUSE & GARDEN magazine said this month:
http://www.houseandgarden.com/opinions/
The theme of the issue is WORTH THE WAIT (as in "Design that is Worth the Wait.) But Dominique takes it a step further.
She says, "I'll tell you what's really worth the wait: a little wisdom."
She says, "There's something in the air these days that has to do with a sense of wanting to reconnect with a value system that is deeper than what's on sale."
And later, "More importantly, I want to support people who devote their lives to making things—who blow glass, or weave fabrics, or throw pots, or build furniture. These things are now worth the wait, for me, because I understand, finally, that to wait is a luxury. It is when you are young and impatient that you don't understand the value of waiting, even though you have lots of time. When you are older, and all too aware of how little time is left, you suddenly realize what a special thing it is to anticipate, to delay gratification."
What's my lesson?
Stop being scared. Fear is paralyzing.
Be patient. Keep trying new ways of bringing the work to market.
Because the art I make has value.
And know in my heart there is a place in the world for me and my artwork.
Somewhere, every day, there is a person whose life will be enriched by owning a piece of my work. They will be willing to exchange their hard-earned money for something that reminds them every day of bigger, deeper things in their heart.
A thank you to Toni Sikes of Guild.com for her blog entry pointing me to this editor's letter: http://blog.guild.com/?p=60
