You mean, they’re selling?

I procrastinated all month about bringing over cords to add to my pendants that were on display at Uplifting Connections in Bridgewater, MA. I imagined walking in and finding the case full to overflowing, just as I had left it. I imagined that not a single piece had sold, and I would be, what? Humiliated? Embarrassed? Exposed? All of the above. It doesn’t matter that I have gone through Julia Cameron’s series on The Artist’s Way twice. It doesn’t matter that I have facilitated the course for others three times. My inner artist is still afraid of rejection ~ and asking people to pay money for my work, is about as vulnerable as I get. It was a HUGE step out in faith to go into the stores in the first place, put my work out on the counters, and say, “This is what I do.” Each time, I received a resounding, “Yes! I like it. I want it.” Still, I am not a woman who assumes positive praise is a foundation upon which I can build.

So, I was nervous to find out how my jewelry had done now that my time as “Artist of the Month” was coming to an end. It was, however, the last day of the month, and I had no place left to hide. I called to tell Laurie I would be by that day. “Well,” she said. “I don’t have an Artist for next month, if you would like to just keep them here for August.”

“Sure, why not”, I said. A stroke of luck to get more exposure than I had planned on. And then, the hard question. “How are they doing?”

“Good”, she said. “We’ve sold eleven so far, and I think they do better if you have the cords with them. Can you bring more cords?”

Eleven? Eleven? I was ecstatic. Eleven people had agreed to part with their cash for my jewelry. Could I bring cords? Of course I could. I brought the cords, reworked the display, and promised to bring more inventory before I went away on vacation.

I am not an abject failure. I am not an artist wannabe. I am me, making sea glass pendants and selling what I make. My daughter said once, looking at my work, “It’s weird that you’re good at this.” That’s a little how I feel too. But I’m getting used to it, and it feels wonderful.