I have just come back from the most wonderful conference and want to tell you all about it! In fact, you will probably be sick of hearing me talk about it by the time it’s all said and done. But right now I need to muster the energy to stand upright for more than 20 minutes at a time. I am beat!
So, I spent this past weekend speaking to creatives and working artists about how to run small businesses (or not run them in certain cases) and how to take themselves seriously as businesswomen and entrepreneurs. It was such a wonderful and inspiring group of people! I wished I could bottle it.
I came home to a tiny art deadline, one more thing to finish up before I start on something else, and I went to look for a piece that I had done awhile back. I realized, as I was rifling through a cigar box looking for the piece of original artwork, that I was rifling through a cigar box. Yep. You heard that right.
I keep my original pieces, quite literally my life’s work, in a cigar box (not sure what it says about me that my life’s work could fit in a cigar box, I am a little relieved that it’s overflowing…) not even one of those big ones that you could make a purse out of! A regular sized, nothing-fancy cigar box.
Now, I never want to take myself too seriously, and certainly, my work is preserved digitally (and hopefully in the hearts and minds of many), but after this weekend, this suddenly stood out to me as an example. An example of what falls through the cracks when we are busy building something. Often, that thing is ourselves, or more specifically, the level of importance we allot ourselves. This was a tiny example of me not valuing myself somewhere along the way. Of not taking care of something, that if I’m honest, would break my heart if it was lost or destroyed. This was me not taking myself seriously enough.
So, I am going to take my own advice. I am going to start the process of archiving these babies, someday, they will hang in the halls of something…even if it’s just my house.