I’ve been busy with a new hobby recently, sifting through lots of beautiful gem stones and glass beads. I took an introductory class on making wire earrings with both boys (I don’t recommend bringing a whining 3-month-old) at Ben Franklin last Tuesday. It started out as an idea for Christmas gift and then turned into a 20+ hour serious pursuit for a fundraising sale for charity at work this Thursday and Friday. I received an unexpected gift to myself during the experience.
From doing the work, I rediscovered my love for beautiful gem stones (I loved picking up rocks as a kid) and the joy of designing combinations that works in a jewelry. I also decided that it’s financially unfeasible to make a living doing crafts — the amount of time I put in was incredibly disproportional to the cost. I’m glad I was only doing it for fun.
I came in excited about the pieces and the possibility of raising money for charity, so I had lofty expectations. However, the first day was dismal. I only sold two pairs of earrings, to a girl who was doing most of her Christmas shopping at this fair. I felt more let down after a lecture from a friend rehashing the unfeasibility of making a living doing crafts. My unique handmade art for the charitable cause at the small cost of two Jamba Juices didn’t make the sale. I came to terms with it only afterwards. It’s like how I came to terms with people spendings hundreds or more on the latest technological gadgets yearly but never willing to invest in a more timeless piece of art: different things speak to different people. One is only willing to invest in what one is passionate about. It was a learning process for me too, as I started out as someone who didn't buy any. What I learned was the simple principle of only buying what evokes your emotion. You can sense the heart and soul that an artist put into a piece when it compels you. That is the timeless element of it.
My disappointment also came from my higher expectation of sales. Buddhism teaches going in with no expectations, while I went in with expectation elevated by enthusiasm. I had lost sight of the fact that I was selling a feminine product in a male-dominant environment. The most valuable part of the lesson came when I realized this would be what I would have to face on a daily basis if I were to be a true artist. I took the lack of sales as failure and rejection and had a hard time accepting it. That evening I told Matthew I was done with making earrings.
I had a much more enjoyable time on Friday despite the lousy sales. I enjoyed talking about art with a few people visiting my booth. Matthew IM’ed me
this blog in the middle of the day, which summarized my learning:
You know that you had to hear a lot of “no” for every “yes”. If you’re not yet a pro, or perhaps more importantly if you are a pro whose enjoyed a taste of success, then hear this: Get Used To Hearing “No”.Let “no” serve as a motivator…Let “no” keep out the other people who don’t want it as bad as you do…Let “no” remind you that this job isn’t for everyone, especially the uncommitted…Let “no” turn you into a better artist…
Thank you sweetie. This is so important for me to remember in my pursuit of an artistic career.
Looking back, I’m so grateful for this crazily busy but wonderful experience. I was inspired by the giving spirit, from my first purchase from a dear friend before the sale event, to my first customer at the event, other “sellers” at the event, and the Googler who I heard donates 40% of his salary to charity. I doubled my yearly donation. I’m grateful for making some of earrings with my 4-year-old. (He insisted on handing different tools to me as we worked like surgeons on an operating table.) I’m grateful to Matthew and my friends who helped load and unload all the paintings and earrings for the event. And I’m most grateful for this lesson about building perseverance for taking no for an answer. Am I done with the earring-making fever? Nope! I made these last night:
I continue to discover and let the stream of creativity guide me…