Studio Sale

It’s the eve of my first ever studio sale.

A friend talked me into doing this. I wanted to dump all my old pots to clear the shelves for the coming sculpture series. She talked me into selling what I saw as flawed works. “Go for it!” she said. Adding that we had seven days to pull it all together. Could I pull it off?

Sculptures would need mounted and put on display (not for sale). Then creating a display of what was for sale. Asking friends to come and buy pots, mugs, practice and test pieces is harder than it seems like it should be. The goal is two fold, clear space on shelves and to drum up funding for the new series of work. A far more nerve wracking experience than I would have expected. These are my friends, yet saying come and buy something left me feeling in a vulnerable position. “Please come see my new sculptures (not for sale, but I’m very proud of) and go buy those sorry pots over there”. Am I the only person who feels this way? I doubt it, but it’s one of those feelings that doesn’t go away when looking at it logically. Better to go through this experience with the support of friends the first time. I’m old now and too easily flustered – which is discouraging. The young me would have thrown open the doors and shouted from the tree tops “come one come all!!” with no thought to the outcome. I miss her sometimes. But invite I did!

What’s odd is that I made the most unexpected discovery this morning…

What’s odd is that I made the most unexpected discovery this morning, this eve of the sale. This morning as I came out to sit with my morning coffee, i realized that I was relaxed and excited for friends coming. The irrational fears were gone. What changed? Last night I put the final finishing touches on the bases of the newly mounted sculptures. They are the feature of the show (sale). With them complete, my body could relax, or rather I should say my brain did!

This isn’t the first time my work has effected me physically. I’ve developed digestive issues while over thinking options for finishing a piece. It’s crazy how intertwined a maker becomes with a creation. Did God ever had these issues?

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