Stick a Fork in Me, I’m Done.

There is a big difference between giving it your all and giving it all up. Between changing gears and changing your mind. Between throwing your hat in the ring and throwing in the towel. I can never seem to quite figure out when it’s the right time or what the right choice is. I spent 7 years of college and a smattering of years in LA being an actress. I got my cosmetology license in California. I took an intensive class in wall finishing years ago and I started my jewelry business in 2012. I’m good at a lot of &$^*%, and great at nothing. Or, to put a more positive spin, I have a bunch of different passions and it really doesn’t matter to anyone how good I am at any of them. As long as I love doing them. Do I? Believe it or not, That is a very tough question to answer. I knew almost immediately that not only did I not love doing hair, but I wasn’t particularly good at it. I moved to NY, let my California license lapse and never looked back. I did an entire foyer wall in my apartment in different finishes and loved doing it. Haven’t touched any of the crap since. I walked away from acting for 20 years until I started doing local theatre just for fun and couldn’t be happier. And my jewelry business? I have given that much more time and money than most endeavors. I have dragged my tent, my displays and my mother from this fair to that festival, with only moderate results, always blaming the high price and the uniqueness of my work and the venue for my slow sales. Labor Day weekend I finally got accepted at the New Paltz-Woodstock Arts Festival. I was sure that I was going to sell, sell, sell! This was a big deal. And people came to buy, buy, buy! But not from me. I sold a few things. I covered the booth fee. But not the gas, or the hotel or the food. And on the third day, as I listened to other vendors crowing about their “best day ever”s and tried to keep the tears from rolling down my face, I was done. I can not do one more of these fairs. I no longer have the desire to pump money and time into venues that no longer make sense. It makes me feel bad. Plain and simple. And if it makes me feel bad, why am I doing it? I love the creative process. Acting, singing, writing, taking a flat piece of metal and beating it into submission. Am I great at all of it? Meh. But I love it. Because it’s an expression of me. Not to stock up for a show that I could care less about. A good friend of mine brought her husband to New Paltz, and he said my jewelry belongs on Madison Avenue. Har. Maybe some day. Maybe I will take the time to improve my skills, to figure out how to say what I want in a way that people will want to hear. Maybe I’ll just do it because it’s fun. Maybe I will just take the time to figure out how to fail without being a failure. To get back up when I fall. Because there is a difference between getting up and giving up.