Or terrifiededly excited? This time last year, I was kicking off my first year as a professional artist. I was just getting ready to hit the road to do the Dogwood Arts Festival in Knoxville, TN. And I was absolutely terrified. Of what? Of failing at something that I want so badly to succeed. Well, I did 35 shows during 2010 and managed to sell a bunch of paintings, prints and notecards. I met a lot of great people; collectors, fellow artists, and browsers. I endured the hottest summer in recorded history, setting up a heavy tent in 98 degree heat and sitting long hours in said tent in said heat. I pushed this arthritic back into lifting, toting, and dragging heavy equipment from car to booth space and back to car again. I enjoyed spending quality time with family and friends because I was able to do shows in Tennessee, North Carolina, and Michigan I read many, many books on CD in my car and saw so much beauty from behind the windshield. I ate hundreds of peanut butter sandwiches, drank gallons upon gallons of water (with Crystal Light lemonade flavor!), munched on bushels of apples, and downed many post-show beers and glasses of wine.
And not even to mention all the wonderful time spent in front of the easel! While 2010 was a terrible year for many people, it was one of the most stressful and enjoyable years of my life.
Now I ready for Episode Two - 2011. I've got a full slate of shows for the next few months. My tent and equipment have been oiled and cleaned and are ready for the road. I've got a lot of new work, including a few new oil paintings! I've got a stack of promotional postcards and a long mailing list of people to send them to. Still got the arthritic back, but I think my recent weight training has built up some more muscle. I've got experience under my belt and confidence in my work. I know how to pack my paintings so that the glass doesn't break and how to pack my car so that everything fits (just barely!). I'm looking forward to going back to some shows I did last year and trying some new shows.
But I'm still terrified. I have sunk every dime, every thought, every scrap of my being into creating and selling my work. I have no hobbies. I have no social life. I have no disposable income. I have no Plan B. This is my everything. If this fails, I won't exist. Everything is at stake, so I mustn't fail. Rotten economy or not, I must make this work.
Something new for Spring:
"In the Fields", pastel, 10 x 6
$300 framed, $200 unframed
Comments