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Ugh that stupid pina colada hard seltzer triggered a headache. I thought I was out of the danger zone. :-( But I sugar bombed myself into Migraneville, apparently. Never again will I buy an adult beverage based on how funny it would be to sing the chorus of an earworm song about failed adultery while I serve it to my significant other. The headache hasn't been that bad, I'm just tired, with a stiff neck and shoulders and befuddled from poor sleep. And I have a lot to do, so yay.
I have 2 weeks to get ready for this farmer's swap thing. I've done quite a bit, but I keep thinking, oh yeah, I need to do that too, so par for the course I will mostly likely be running around like a hot mess, right down to the wire. Because you're not an artist unless you're perpetually riding the procrastination cycle of shame.
1) High on hope, mania and inflated sense of self-accomplishment, agree to deadline.
2) Procrastinate out of growing fear of not meeting expectations or making some trivial decision incorrectly.
3) Begin work late.
4) Unforseen complication or delay. Everything takes longer.
5) Panic, furious work, anxiety, sleep deprivation, self doubt, crying, despair. Prioritize and cut corners where possible.
6) Deadline time is up. Worst fears fulfilled! Product does not meet self expectations! Shame, guilt, cannot enjoy any success because am procrastinating fraud!
7) Repeat.
I believe we are at step 3, excellent. On schedule.
There is a beautiful dream (I am picturing a 50's informational film with a housewife in a ruffly apron) where one has an event, plans appropriately weeks in advance, makes things with care, shows up with plenty of product and remembers everything and is able to be relaxed and gracious and enjoy the event. Like those pretty pictures of craft booths on pinterest, yeah? LIES, THEY'RE ALL LIES. If that ever happens, I know I will not sell a damn thing because if everything's going perfect on my end, then some other bad luck thing will happen, like the weather will be shit and no one will show. That's just how it goes. So if I'm skidding into this thing like a a mad scientist, hair half smoking, amped on caffeine pills, and I forget a critical display part and am cranky and starving cause I had no time to eat and 4 hours of sleep the past 48 hours, then super, should go well.
When I helped my friend with her booth we had a running joke we found hilarious, "Next time, everything will be perfect." 10 years of vending at fairs and conventions and whatever, it was never perfect. There is always something that gets forgotten or not enough time to make product or something breaks or the weather sucks or who knows. I dunno, maybe if you have enough money you can overcome all those problems, but then why the hell would you be trying to sell stuff out of a pop up tent?!?
Last night, spouse read an anecdote off the internet about Neil Gaiman and imposter syndrome. I am paraphrasing, but Neil Gaiman was invited to a conference of respected scientists and creators and great minds. He felt out of place and he wondered what he was doing in such accomplished company. During an interlude he struck up a conversation with someone waiting at the entrance. Turned out they shared the same first name, and they both wondered if they'd been invited by mistake because they didn't feel they measured up to the group. "I'm not like those guys. I just went were they told me to go," said the guy, whose name was Neil Armstrong. "I didn't do anything amazing like those people in there." The point being that it's terribly human and universal to downplay yourself and feel like someone else's grass is greener and lusher and more worthy than yours.
I keep thinking about how in modern civilization, we're all coaxed into jumping through hoops until we instinctively want an official hoop to jump through when we decide to do something, or we feel something is wrong. We look for a product to buy or an stamp of approval to acquire. We read all the reviews or lurk on reddit. We overthink and obsessively search for sekrit shortcuts. What if everyone knows an amazing optimization trick except you? What if there's a mindblowing book you can buy, or a seminar you can take, or a tool that does half the work for you? What if the thing that changes your life and unlocks your potential is just a few clicks and a credit card swipe away, if you stumble across just the perfect hashtag? Yes, please sell me a product that will do that. Sell me the degree that will instantly get me a good job with health insurance, or the exercise classes so I can be sleek and fit, or the mental health insight that will patch up my foibles. Sell me the toothpaste and makeup that will transform me. Sell me whatever it is I need to get that pleasant, carefree dream life I see other people enjoying, because clearly I am doing something wrong and have not found the right hoop.
I mean, no wonder the "wanderlust" trend has sprung up. The whole obsession with the wilderness and travelling, but in a vague abstract way that magnifies the golden sunsets and diminishes the realities of bugs, cold and finding safe places to poop. People don't really want the wilderness - they want to escape our modern reality of constant nagging hoop jumping. That seductive illusion of blazing your own trail, doing your own thing. The fascination with the Into The Wild guy who cast off civilization. Sounds great, let's browse #vanlife for hours.
Does the internet pose a new threat in that it encourages us to get caught up in a mental loop of observing others living under the conceit of learning to do something the "right way", thus avoiding the clumsy, imperfect experience necessary to develop skill?
So there's a famous artist and illustrator named Rockwell Kent. In 1918 he and his son went to Fox Island in Alaska and stayed for a winter, and he kept a journal that is published under the title: Wilderness: A Journey of Quiet Adventure in Alaska. There's a day cruise you can take out of Seward that will show you around Resurrection Bay and stops at Fox Island for a salmon dinner, and you can wander around and see the (small, dark) cabin Rockwell Kent stayed in and of course they have the book in the gift shop. The day cruises are actually really great. I've taken one out of Valdez and then that one out of Seward and both were good. It's like going on an Alaskan version of a safari, sort of. Great for seeing a lot of wildlife even for less athletic people who can't go hike for miles. Do recommend. Anyway, Rockwell Kent's published journal is a fascinating unvarnished account of what I would consider an authentic wanderlust experience without the distraction of modern technology cluttering it up, and it's from the perspective of an artist, which is even better. It's not polished, boring in places, and the phrasing sounds awkward to modern ears, but it's authentic. He wasn't journaling with the modern angle of selling his packaged insights to readers. It's just an account of what he did and what happened (and as I recall he came off as a bit of a jerk to his wife in the end - keep in mind he ran off to Alaska with their son for six months and she's supposed to do what?). He struggles with the same things we all struggle with, so he goes to Alaska to "get away", like everybody has longed to do since Alaska was a thing. Kent spends his time and he leaves. And that's part of the mystique of Into The Wild, isn't it, that the guy never had to solve the problem of reintegrating himself into modern life? He avoided the sad trombone ending of tromping back to civilization and begging for spare change outside Fred Meyer.
Anyway, check out Rockwell Kent's Wilderness.
The point being that it's human to buy the illusion that someone can sell you something that will let you skip the fumbling awkwardness of your own private failures and unlock the door to effortless enjoyment and success. I've noticed a lot of commercials and marketing like to perpetuate the myth of the "master artisan", the idea that someone has devoted their whole life to make the perfect chocolate or perfume or whatever, and they totally have this guy on staff, sitting in a spacious sunlit studio or kitchen, thoughtfully pondering and making notes in a leather bound journal about how to craft the perfect artisanal thing so this giant corporation can deliver their product by the pallet to walmarts everywhere. Just for you. Spared no expense.
It's a myth, but we buy into the marketing because we secretly want there to be someone who lives and breathes chocolates directing the production of our candy in a spotless white hat. We want there to be respected master craftspeople, passing on their knowledge to the worthy and earning a comfortable living commensurate to their skill. We want hoops and rules and right ways to do things. We want elders on mountaintops. We want wise Yoda, the master jedi, waiting on Dagobah to train us. We want to level up like a video game.
But everyone's just muddling along, doing what they can, frustrated by their own daily internal failures, trying to figure out what they're going to have for dinner and if they need to do laundry. Three steps forward, two steps back, couple sidesteps around the cat.
I got on a tangent, but the point is, this isn't going to go smooth and that's just kinda how it is. I'm going to do my best and make some cups and it's probably going to be half a disaster, but the point is that I'm doing it and not reading about trying to do it.
Had trouble settling on what product to order. I talk a big game but yeeting a few hundred at cups feels like a big risk. Even if it is my stimulus money. What if I get this and people want that. What if I gamble on premium product and it's too expensive. What if I don't get enough and there isn't good variety. What if I get too many different types of cups. And worst of all, what if it's just a dumb idea. Yeah, sure, there's always christmas gifts, but I just don't want spouse to think I'm a financial dud any more than I already am. So I've hedged my bets a little and I'm going to keep my stock and expectations low, especially for this first event. I got things that I like and meet my standards, and we'll see what grabs people's interest in the wild. Since I've been reading a lot of different cup reviews I notice people have all sorts of different priorities. Trying to guess what people will want the most is hard. Like, will people prefer a classic pint glass for enjoying at home, or more of a lidded tumbler for portability? (I'd pick the pint glass, personally.) After much hairpulling I have figured out the product mix. With luck I will sell a couple things, talk to people and figure out what catches their eye, refine the product list from there. Maybe nobody wants water bottles and everyone goes crazy over beer steins, who knows. I learned from selling art that it can be almost impossible to predict what will go and what won't.
Anyway I should be kept busy for the next two weeks and may not have much interesting to say for a bit. Unless I see the otter, that's important. I'm starting to think this guy lied to me about the otter. Yesterday I saw 5 turtles swimming in a little turtle conga line, and lots of little turtle noses sticking up in the lake. The trees are getting new leaves all of a sudden. And of course I am anxiously anticipating brood X. Little worried about that. I have this phobia of moths, which I know makes no sense, but me and moths are not friends and they seriously freak me out. I don't like things flying all crazy at my face. It's like moths know I hate them and they kamikazi right for me. Upside, cicadas are too big to fly up my nose (my main fear with moths). Downside, they are big and they fly and like to land on things, and none of that sounds good. So this could be a rough summer. :-(
