Completely "naked"

Have you ever awoke in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, with that dream about being naked on stage in front of hundreds of your peers? Though I am not a musician and I am far from being a dancer; I find myself feeling very much like I am on stage naked when I share my art.

I have always been a painfully shy and awkward child. Confidence was something that constantly eluded me... When I work on a piece of art, something deep inside my soul opens up. And as I share what I have done, it is like cutting out my heart and placing it in the hands of my audience. Like the dancer, I am so afraid of falling on my face or tip-toeing out on stage with a stream of toilet paper out my tutu!

The average photo that I develop into art takes about an hour or 2 to, first, find the shot and piece it together; then, 4 hours of developing and editing. I usually have to revisit my work several times spending another hour here and there, until I get it just right. I realize not everyone is going to like every piece I do but every piece has a special place in me.

After 4 years of sounding like a broken record, my husband (David) finally convinced me to enter my art into some shows. Truthfully, I had "hypothetically" filled out that application over and over until one day I thought, "What if..." and I held my breath and pushed the "submit" button. What a rush!

I cannot even begin to tell you what those few weeks were like as I waited for a reply. The first was rejected with a friendly letter and an invitation to, "Please try again next year!" The second; same. "Of coarse they want me to try again next year; they'll take my money to glance at my work any day, right?", I thought. I knew it was too good to be true. ...Then, at last, I was accepted to my very first faire! I don't know what felt worse: staying put in my own miserable box (at least I was comfortable being a nobody) or being all-of-the -sudden pushed out on stage for all to scrutinize! I was a wreck!

Thursday, June 18, 2009
I woke up with butterflies in my stomach. This was the first day of the rest of my life! We had spent the last couple of months (with the enlisted help of family and friends) preparing for this day! I did my best in front of the mirror trying to look the part of the badge I would be wearing that day that read, "Artist". It would be another bad hair day no matter what I did so I clung to the delicate flame of confidence ignited in me when I wore that badge. Oh how I longed for this!

Friday, June 19, 2009
After a wonderfully long day of compliments at the Summerfest Faire the day previous. I was excited to do it all again with high hopes even as the storm clouds came slithering in like an unwanted garden snake. The crowds dwindled as we huddled under our great tree to keep somewhat dry in the rain. By the end of the day, however, I had sold 8 pieces of art (half to family and friends) and was very happy to sport the title Professional Artist!

Saturday, June 20, 2009
Doubts started to cripple me as I heard the weather reports and thought about how much debt this business had put us into. Even though I had found an effective way to display the art (without framing) and I'd borrowed a tent and booth; there were still the costs of prints, mattes, plastic sleeves, application and booth fees to make up (which added to about $2500). I was 4 months pregnant and feeling very sick to my stomach so I went home in the middle of the day to take a nap (and cry) while David sat under our tent waiting for a sale. When I had returned, conditions were about the same (if not worse) and the artists began packing up early in the down pour. We decided to stick it out a couple hours longer before retiring ourselves.

At first I perceived the whole experience as a complete failure because we ended up with a loss of about $2350. Now I believe that God works in mysterious ways and it was exactly what I needed.

Vincent van Gogh was a marvelous artist... yet he lacked confidence. He was famous for his use of color and his ability to portray his beautiful awareness of emotion. His doubts of his talent led him down many unfulfilling paths until he eventually drove himself mad and died believing that his life was a complete failure (having sold only 1 painting in his lifetime).

I believe that "failure" only exists in the eyes of the beholder and that "madness" is achieved when we continually undermine our individual value (or our value as part of the great collective). And so I begin anew, preparing for the coming festival season, in hopes that I can soar above the madness and find my success... before I die!