I Say "Craft Show" and You Picture Wooden "Santa Stop Here!" Signs, Don't You?

I do craft shows. Now I'd like to say that I do art shows, it simply sounds cooler, but what I do is a craft. I buy shiny pretty beads, string them or wrap them with wire and make them into jewelry. This is a craft. I taught myself, there is no special technique, I didn't attend courses to arrive at this skill level. I just bought a book, made some mediocre pieces the first couple of years, and now I make better pieces with better materials. But I don't fall into the art show group. I don't do metal smithing, I don't charge $300 for a pair of amazing earrings. And I'm ok with that. This is a hobby, and a hobby I think I'm pretty good at. But mostly I enjoy going to craft shows because it is a joy for me to see what other women like, to watch someone's face light up when they try on a necklace that makes them feel beautiful. And I get to think, "Hey, I did that!"


But this time of year it's always a little stressful. I pack in the 4 or 5 shows I do into a six week period and its jewelry, jewelry, jewelry. I wait until nearly the last minute and then my frantic, procrastinator tendencies take over and in a whirlwind I make everything I need. And like any good procrastinator, and believe me I'm one of the best, I loathe and despise the sense of urgency and at the same time thrive on it. Sick, isn't it? So this blog post is just one more great way to procrastinate until I can't stand it anymore and realize I still need to make another 25 pairs of earrings before Saturday.


But I often think about trying to take my interest in creating jewelry to the next logical step. Taking a glass bead making class, trying my hand at metal smithing, being more adventurous with my materials. But then Glee's on TV, or I think of 1,000 things I should be spending money on instead of a class, or an hour vanishes on the internets looking at baby animal pictures and videos of Kanye West acting lame. For now I'm a crafter and clearly at this point not interested in putting the time and commitment into making myself an artist. But that artist is sitting there in the back of my head, wearing black of course, saying "Risk it, try it, challenge yourself, you might be good at it." And maybe I will.