Just when you think you have everything figured out....
It's been one of those weeks. Had all my ducks lined up in a row, and thought I knew what I was doing.
Got input from a trusted advisor that simply blew me and my ducks right out of the water.
Even my good friend and fellow artist, Lee, was a little ornery today. He's convinced he's found a book that's worth $150,000. He came over to ask me to do some research for him, find out who to sell it to. When the answer came back that it's probably not worth $150,000 he was not in a good mood. I finally gave him a couple bucks so he could go buy his own copy of the New York Times Book Review to see for himself. As he stood up to go, he asked to see my studio. I took him in and showed him my latest creation, small artifacts that look like carved soapstone.
"Are you working on anything or are you goofing off?" he growled. I said I was making jewelry for my upcoming show. He grunted, and left.
I didn't have the heart to tell him that I'm not only still working things through on my next steps, but I'd just been advised to change EVERYTHING I do around. Lose this component, make that component differently, redo this element, skip that element. Get rid of this, add this, do this differently. It was mind-boggling.
Like all advice, some of it was golden and some of it should be ignored. But which bits??
I called another friend who offered another viewpoint, gave some fresh insight, and reassured me on several points. And agreed with some of the previous advice.
We started talking about shows, and strategies, and buyers and the market. How confusing everything seems, how overwhelming it gets.
"Just do your work", she urged. "Make the work that's in your heart, and you'll be okay."
Just before we signed off, she said, "You know, it's not just you. We're ALL struggling with these issues now. We're ALL in this together. And there aren't any simple answers."
I thought about what both my friends said all night. I resisted calling yet another friend, knowing I'd hear more good stuff, more bad stuff, and more confusing stuff.
I thought all day about how to write about this experience. How to write what was in my heart without sounding ungrateful or dismissive for the gifts these people (and so many others) have given me over the years--the gifts of encouragement, support, commiseration, strong feedback and honest opinion. Thoughtful, professional advice, and sometimes just a shoulder to cry on.
And realized I was beginning to see my way through all the words--the kind ones, the harsh ones, the well-meant ones, the cruel ones, the careless ones, the loving ones, the funny ones.
All of these people in my life are a gift in their own way. Even the nasty one I wrote about yesterday--I can see the gift in them.
And in the end, all I know is what is in my heart. And the art that comes from there.
The new ideas for wall hangings are still bubbling around in my head. There are still some things to sort out before I can turn my full attention to them. But I'm closer than I was a even month ago, and that's a good development.
I realize I've been "working to the show"--trying to turn all my artwork to what I think will sell at that show. It's a useful strategy. But it's not one I can keep up indefinitely without losing sight of where my heart is.
Right now, I love the new artifacts I'm working on. They echo the ivory artifacts but are very different. The soapstone look calls for different colored beads--serpentine, aventurine, chunks of apatite and amazonite and fluorite, even pearls. They look like sea-drift jewelry, in beautiful shades of aqua, teal, sky blue and ocean green.
And best of all, as I work on them today, the stress and strain of thinking about shows, marketing, shipping, packing fall away.
And I'm left with a singing heart and working hands.
