Normally I know exactly what the title of these posts will be.

Today I don’t, so it will be last piece of the jigsaw. Because that’s how I’m feeling – like a jigsaw, 1000 pieces all jumbled up in the box, which I’m not sure is even the right box for the pieces, and won’t know until I start putting pieces together.


Today was the first day of my first ever exhibition showing people my artwork. I’d told everyone I could about this exciting part of the journey and they were cheering me along. I felt so blessed to be showing my work, meeting people, making friends, being able to talk to people about what I’d been doing.

I left the opening day of the event, having not sold anything, but still feeling incredibly blessed to have had the opportunity to meet wonderful people, have such supportive friends, and finally be able tell people about my art journey.


Today was a new day. I’d had a morning visit to the Sculpture Lounge and had a chat with two of the wonderful resident artists there for the open studios. Having left with a couple of bags full of their work I headed back to the Tech in Holmfirth to open up for the public.

People came, people left. I did manage to finish off 3 new pieces of work in the afternoon whilst next to my space. My mobile rang about 3ish, my parent’s number, which usually indicates some form of disaster, so I answered it. During the conversation mum said, “it doesn’t matter if you don’t sell anything.” Well, yes. Yes, yes it does matter! Selling my work to a stranger is the vindication I so desperately desire – that all the sacrifice and hard work, investment and heart-ache was for the right reason and that people LIKE and WANT my work.

But that sale never came.

The Negative Committee’s flinging ‘Blurts’ around again, get the brolly ready

Driving home, the dark clouds seemed even darker, the storm’s building pressure echoed in my own thoughts. The proverbial jigsaw pieces felt not only strewn all over the floor, but some were in the hoover, never to be seen again and the box had gone missing. Yeah, I felt the tears welling and the lump in my throat – ALL the negative committee were out in force again, flinging their, “blurts,” at me, chucking darts at my balloon of hope…They say…

Nobody wants what I do. They like it, but don’t want it. Who are you to say you’re an artist when you can’t even sell your work?! You’ll never be able to make ends meet, even if you find someone who IS willing to buy a piece. Why did you give up doing what you were doing? It doesn’t matter if you don’t sell anything, at least you tried, now you can go back to doing what you were getting paid for, leave all this nonsense about being an artist in the past.

Screw you, negative committee, and your blurts…Oh, and take your jigsaw with you.

The ego is a fragile thing. The negative committee prey on the ego at every chance they get.

They don’t want you to take risks, be vulnerable, do what you love, follow your heart, listen to your soul. No, they are the uninvited viruses that eat your soul – “you can’t, you shouldn’t, why would you want to, I told you so, you mustn’t, no you can’t, don’t do this, don’t do that, you’ll never, why bother, stay where you are….”

They ridicule your inner child and tell them to be quiet, sit in the back seat and let them take control because you don’t know what you’re doing and are a danger to yourself. They take your freedom and lock it away until you’re old and sensible enough, which according to them will never happen. They want to control you, to keep you “safe.” But life is never safe. We are most alive when we are free, free to follow what’s in our heart and soul.

Back on that road to nowhere

Where am I going with all of this? I’m not sure. Am I hoping that between now and Saturday I’ll actually sell something I’ve made to someone who wants and loves it? Of course I am. Am I hopeful? I’m not so sure. I put my faith in the universe for my journey, I still have faith that it will lead me on the right path.

So, “it doesn’t matter if you don’t sell anything.” Mum, maybe you were right after all.

Storms a brewing