Beginning in Earnest

Everything is happening at once. I have no issue admitting that at times, I’ve found it all very overwhelming.

I’m getting ready for my first pop-up shop and an exhibition. Originals are framed. Cards are back from the printer. Prints are ordered. I had a photoshoot a few weeks ago to create prints from my work. A recording session happened too, as part of the Listowel Visual Artists’ Collective, talking about the work and the road that’s led here.

I’m trying to do this properly. Professionally. Consciously. Even when I’m not entirely sure what that really means.

There’s a lot of effort going on behind the scenes. Researching how to apply for tax exemption as an artist (because that’s what I am, right?). Creating a proper archive of my work. Looking at gallery opportunities, show applications, artist awards. Trying to lay foundations. Trying to make decisions that future me won’t regret. Not being afraid, but not being foolhardy and reckless either.

I’ve spent a lot. A. LOT. Framing, glass, printing, materials, photography. Some of it makes me wince when I look at the numbers. But I want to set things up as I mean to go on. That means showing my work the respect I believe it deserves. Even when part of me whispers that maybe I’m not quite there yet. In fact, the inner bitch whispers regularly, Who do you think you are? That’s a hard voice to ignore sometimes.

There’s a tug-of-war between advice that hits home and advice I nod politely at and file under “not for me.” I’m learning to tell the difference. Learning to trust my gut. Still questioning everything, but welcoming well-meant advice and guidance from those with far more experience than me.

Do I keep applying for things? Or do I just get my head down and make the next thing? Do I try to be seen, or do I quietly build something worth seeing?

Honestly, I don’t know.

What I do know is that I’m showing up. That this is the beginning of something, even if I can’t define it just yet. I’m not pretending to have it all figured out. I’m just doing the next thing. Then the next. Some days with confidence. Some days with nerves chewing the edge of my resolve. Most days with a quiet hope that it will be enough.

Ax