Quick, what's the worst part of being a potter? Worse than mixing glazes, worse than grinding kiln shelves? Approaching stores and galleries about selling my work, that's what! It wrecks my head for days. And today is one of THOSE days: the day I have to make the follow up calls. My stomach hurts and I can scarcely breathe, just thinking about it. It never gets easier.
I can send emails all day long; it's the follow-up calls that kill me. Artists famously have poor social skills - I myself am painfully shy - but to be successful we have to also have the mad skilz as salespeople. (Do people say "mad skilz" anymore? Oh.)I've set myself a modest goal of three follow-up calls a day. I am approaching larger, out-of-state venues, in order to get the prices I need, but naturally these are harder to get into. I keep telling myself that some nos are to be expected, but maybe that's the wrong approach! Maybe I should be psyching myself up that OF COURSE they will want me.
Gah. Back when I used to apply for jobs, I never felt like this, no matter how much I needed the job. Wish I could get my head back into that breezy space, but really I can't. The more important thing is just MAKE THE CALLS.
And if you see me today, and I'm not quite myself, be kind.
UPDATE: Pathetic, but I seriously don't think I can do this. I've thrown up twice this morning, thinking about it, and my hands are shaking typing this. I know it shouldn't be this hard, but it just fucking is. So: where does that leave me?
So Long, Solenoid!
1 hour ago