The quote in the sub-headline above came from a friend a couple weeks back after I had a unique experience having a booth at an event. Not just any event but a marketplace for collectors.
I’ve worked countless tables, booths, and events over the years in my career as a marketing and communications professional but this was the first such experience that was focused on my work as an artist. And guess what? I sold a bunch of arts and tees and I was the first that night.
I can honestly say that I’ve never had an encounter quite like it.
While this is not the first time that I have sold art before, it was the first time I willingly ventured into this kind of forum. Admittedly, as much as I get mad anxiety about events in my work, I do quite well in them. It trips me out every time as the Inner Observer watches as the switch is flipped and how easy it is to connect with people. It’s something that despite how shy I can be and feel, I’ve had the ability to turn on through much of my adult life.
I am very grateful to have that work, how my professional life has grown, and where both have taken me but art, like my faith, is my foundation. It’s in my core. I’m a better marketer and brand storyteller because of the depths I’ve explored creatively. And it’s far more natural for me to tell my story, why I created what I did, and the lessons learned at the time, many of which I’m still meditating upon.
Art is as much a therapeutic practice as it is an expression and I’ve reached a point in the journey where I feel compelled to share.
But that is absolutely terrifying. How is that when you’ve published books containing your thoughts, thousands of photos on social media with more thoughts, and have artwork hanging in people’s homes throughout the islands and different pockets of the continental US?
Someone can tell me they enjoy the work a thousand times over but that doesn’t mean my own judgements haven’t clouded or weighed heavy on how I view the quality of my work.
Yet time and time again, ‘professionally’ and creatively, I’ve seen the value of my work, as well as watched it bring joy to others (see strikethrough above).
I’m an artist.
I’m an artist.
I’m an artist.
I wrote that three times because I was following a sign. Literally, the car I drove behind as I went to Jiu-Jitsu last night had ‘PWROF3’ on its license plate. Figuratively, it is believed in some circles that words hold power when repeated three times. Which is fascinating because when I used to lead guided meditations, I’d often recite key phrases three times. And when Kumu taught us to pray, he taught us to close and sign off with a closing statement, also three times.
Long ago, like legit long ago, one of my earlier life mentors predicted that I’d get more creative as I grew older. Something long ago me couldn’t fathom but perhaps the best thing about each step that I’ve taken toward the recent experience selling my art is that it’s propelled me to create more, and now, rather than hold to judgements of the value of my work, release them and focus on improving with each new canvas, brush stroke, and movement.
Much like walking through life I suppose.
Guess I’ll keep on going and see where these steps may lead.
Soul mahalo, mahalo, mahalo
to all of the above…