How do we know when something isn’t working for us? I mean truly, down in your gut, know. I did a craft fair yesterday, which I had done before with less than successful results. Now, I knew this particular venue was not the right place for me, but it’s sort of local and I decided what the hell, I’ll do it. Maybe this time…needless to say, the results were less than successful. But this time was different. This time it wasn’t fun. I was overtired and cranky, I had given up a paying gig to prepare for it, we forgot one of our display items, setup was harder, just the kind of stuff that sometimes happens. And all around me I hear brisk sales of Mexican Pottery that some guy bought in bulk and resold, and soy candles, and hair accessories, and sand art. And I’m getting advice from family that I need to be on my feet the whole time, bringing people in, hawking my wares like a fishmonger. Good advice, certainly. But quite possibly advice I’m not willing to take. And there’s the problem. I love what I do. I create pieces that tell stories, reflect experience, look into my sometimes quirky head, show my heart. My work has been called beautiful, unique, really amazing, interesting, clever, wow!, “HOW much is it?!?” There is no place in my particular world for as my brother put it, “talking people into doing something they don’t want to do.” So how do we know when something stops being a potential viable business, and becomes just a hobby? When what we love to do becomes what we have to endure. Or is it possible to do what we love on our own terms and believe that “if we build it, they will come. ”

On the Fence carynjune