A couple of months ago, I was contacted by Lisa, whom I didn’t know. She had seen a cabinet I had painted and wanted to know whether she could pay me to paint a jewelry armoire and, also, a mirror that she wanted to hang above it. She turned out to be a lovely woman who enjoyed decorating her home with color and whimsy, and I was excited for the challenge.
And a challenge it turned out to be. The two pieces were notably different in style, and I struggled to come up with unifying ideas. I had quoted her an hourly rate, and was careful to keep track of my time. When I finished the mirror, I told her how many hours I’d worked on it, and asked whether she wanted me to continue with the armoire, knowing that it would likely take longer than the mirror had. When she gave me the go-ahead, I got to work again.
What started as an interesting adventure, though, turned into a stress-filled exercise, as I struggled to marry what I knew of Lisa’s tastes, with something that would be complemented by the mirror. I became uncomfortably aware that my indecision could falsely inflate what already seemed a hefty price tag, and I kept erasing minutes that reflected work that I was repeatedly undoing.
Finally, one late night, as I painted in the garage, I impulsively drew a line through that day’s minutes, and circled yesterday’s cumulative total. I resolved not to note any more time. Almost instantly, I relaxed and was able to lean into the rhythm of the work and not worry about how long it would take. My Muse came dancing back into the room, and so did the joy!
And, happily, I was able to deliver the completed project to an appreciative and generous client.
The Mirror and the Armoire
This experience reminded me of long-ago bit of my history during which I attempted a business selling some of my art. Although people did buy it, selling terrified me, and sound business practices both bored and eluded me. For the first time, I began resenting the time it took to draw, or paint, or sew, and it didn’t take long for me to let go of the idea. For me, making things is best done for the joy of it. I guess I just needed to be reminded of this.
After the mirror/armoire lesson, I came by some free chairs, and immediately began wondering what I could do with them. My kids had just moved into their beautiful, new home, which has a large covered patio from where a spectacular sunset is visible most evenings. They have lots of furniture needs, so I asked whether they could envision using those previously-owned chairs as part of their outdoor seating. They said they could (or–because they are really kind people–maybe they couldn’t think of a way to say no to their mom).
Chairs!
This time, nothing got in the way of knowing what the chairs were meant to be in their new lives, because love was the fuel, and joy, the reward.
