Why I Had An Art Attack

My booth at SoWa

Something didn't feel right. Fidgeting in my bed, I tossed and turned. My breathing was rapid, my toes were twitching, and my belly was churning. I had just returned home from the most successful weekend ever of selling my jewelry. Shoppers showed up in droves, I got to meet lots of sweet customers in person, and hear many kind words about my work. So why did I have such an uneasy feeling?

I finally got out of bed and, without making a conscious decision, grabbed my sketchbook and started drawing. Ideas poured out of me—some were influenced by all the beautiful things I had seen over the weekend, others were my own concepts, born from the renewed motivation I had just gained. In essence, I was having some sort of art attack. A physical reaction to my stirred soul. An actual burst of artistic energy.

I was a vendor at the 7th annual SoWa Holiday Market this weekend. Eighty artists and independent designers, including a good handful of jewelers—every one of them talented, friendly, supportive, and creative. Neither shoppers nor makers could roam the aisles without being tempted and stimulated.

Being counted among so much talent and energy made me humble. I left bursting—with the ideas that swirled madly in my head, with gratitude for the extra income earned, and with a sense of connection to a community of people I can learn so much from.

Here's a shout out to some of my amazing SoWa neighbors:
Gorgeous neck pieces made from vintage ties at Lillian Asterfeld
Adorable felt items and hand spun yarns at Migration Goods
Bold jewelry from Amy Casher
Ceramic and wood creations by Firewood Furniture
Sewn goodness from Fisherman's Daughter

Craft Show Hangover

Whew. Another show over and done with. I did the fabulous hand-made artisan show, Craftopia, yesterday and oh, how I love these events. It's like going to a party, that lasts from early in the morning until dinner time, where I see old friends that I only see at these shows. We catch up, share experiences, and commiserate about all things craft.

Look what I saw:

That shirt says, "I went to a craft show and all I got was this lousy, hand dyed, organic, independently designed, hand silk screened t-shirt." Does it get any more clever than that? (awesomeness by HeatherJeanie)

And look what I got:

This delightful stained-glass bunting by Dasken Designs. The best part? We did a trade. Uh, huh that's right.

(The cloudy sky is not doing it justice, but in the sunshine it is spectacular.)

Look what I drooled over:

The whimsical illustrations of SepiaLepus

And look who was my neighbor:

I got to adore the little shirts and plushies by Hilary all day long.

I leave the shows feeling equally inspired and tired. Sometimes I'm frustrated, other times there's a spring in my step. With each show I cross off the list, I breathe a little easier and feel a little lighter—but only until I set my sights to the next one. At this time of year, there's no lag between obligations until mid-December, so it's on to the next one I go!

The Damage

I spent yesterday at an arts market that is typically a great event for me, sales-wise, and a source of income I have grown to depend on. Six hours of chatting with potential customers and a delightful neighboring card maker, I loaded out of the show with exactly $42 in my pocket. 

Result: A long, frustrating day that was made bearable only through good conversation and new friends made

Hourly wage for the day, including set up and break down: $4.60

I pulled out my sewing machine determined to get an early start on holiday gifts, only to find the machine has some serious problems and needed to go to the shop.
Result: In the shop
Price for repair: $50

I finished a good handful of new pieces, set them up for a photo shoot, so I could share these new designs with the world, and get them listed in my shop. But when I tried to take the pictures? "err 99," camera completely out of commission.
Result: In the shop
Price for repair: $210

I have a shipment of materials arriving this afternoon, a white board with a list of enough orders to keep me busy this week, and a two-day arts festival to get ready for next weekend.
Result: In the shop
Spending my days working with my own two hands, making my own hours, and having the flexibility to be there when my kids need me: Priceless.


Until the camera returns, all shiny and like-new, I will be including old photos in my posts, or none at all. Bear with me...