Driving home on a typically gray winter's day, I was feeling a little pessimistic and frustrated. I can make money at a market or an exhibition, but all of it goes right back in: buying canvases or ordering new prints. It almost feels like you're working so that you can work.
It feels a bit like tilting at windmills.
I am selling at art markets and sending pieces off to exhibitions. I am hanging pieces in galleries. I am networking with other artists. I am busy trying to connect and to build, but art isn't a straight staircase up. There is no tangible ladder to climb.
Most days I feel hopeful and optimistic. I am buoyed up by my little successes and enjoying the ride. I am making art and sharing it and I love that.
Other days, I am precisely like this little girl on her goat steed.