Wiser-er Time

Well, I thought surely I'd have something more interesting to write about this time around. As mentioned in the last issue, following my show in Jackson I was planning to hike the Cirque of the Towers loop in Wyoming's Wind River Range- something that's been on my bucket list for at least fifteen years.

And that was only going to be the beginning...

I'd taken a week and a half off work for a trip that I've been planning since last spring. Pouring over maps, sewing up old gear to try and eek out a few more miles, daydreaming of the views and photos to come. Originally it was to be split into two parts- the first half in Wyoming, and then I was going to head back over to Idaho for a multi-day excursion deep into the Sawtooth Wilderness. My financial situation tightened up a bit after that show in Boulder, though, so I adjusted the plan to one I could budget around a single tank of gas- focusing on the Winds and a little extra time in the Tetons instead.

But Jackson was a disaster. It was a three day show, and it rained almost nonstop the first two and a half. The sun did come out for a few hours Sunday afternoon. Unfortunately however, I still didn't make many sales. While I'd planned to drive straight to the trailhead after packing up that night, all of my stuff was still wet- so I decided to run back to Logan and unload things rather than risk damage by having it sit damp in a locked vehicle all week. I figured I'd drive back to Wyoming early the next morning.

Reality hit hard after a night to sleep on it though. It started by looking closer at my checking account balance and weighing it against an upcoming cycle of bills. I'd thought I was going to be okay, but $400 in sales on a weekend when you'd conservatively figured a couple thousand changes things fast- especially when the show prior left no margin for error. I tried to convince myself that if I was super thrifty I could still make the trip work, but knew deep down that I was already being as thrifty as I could to begin with.

I'd put off replacing any gear- something that I'd honestly expected the concession of continuing on at the warehouse this summer would finally let me do. I looked at my worn and ragged clothes, my sleeping bag with insulation so compressed now that it leaves me shivering through even mild nights, my sleeping pad that needs to be re-inflated every three hours, and the edges of the bear canister poking through tattered seams at the bottom of my pack. In a side pocket I'd hastily stuffed a couple of bungie cords- a makeshift solution to try and cinch the pack up to carry more comfortably since most of the compression straps have long since torn off. In the other pocket a canister of bear spray, which I know is nearing the point of expiration. It should still be good- but "should be" was a lot easier to justify a couple weeks ago hiking with the prospect of black bears and mountain lions in Colorado than amongst grizzly bears in Wyoming. Thrifty is one thing- but I know better than to head into the backcountry with insufficient gear, or take stupid chances over a $45 can of bear spray.

And then there were business matters. My supplies are getting low (again, thanks largely to putting off orders since sales haven't met expectations the latter part of this summer) and if I went hiking I knew I wouldn't be able to afford to place any until things hopefully pick up with my next run of shows in the Midwest. Even then, when considering delivery times this wouldn't allow me to have new work to display- or even to restock on note cards and proven favorites- at least through my shows in Chicago and Tipton. It might even be after Beaux Arts in Davenport and mid-September before I could get things in stock. Kind of a Catch 22 there- because I know that I can't expect those shows to go well if I don't have a good selection of Midwestern scenes and new work on hand... and I still wouldn't be able to order new prints or supplies if those shows don't go well. To go into next month unprepared would severely compromise the potential of a stretch that I'm really, really counting on.

Plus my backpacking gear isn't all that I've needed so badly to replace. My display walls, table coverings, even some prints got soaked in Jackson because my tent leaks. There are tears in the roof and I have to rig a tarp up because one of the corner zippers ripped off completely last spring- I make it work, but a replacement is at least three or four years overdue. As far as the display itself, after having an awesome show in Iowa City in June I started to piece things closer to the setup I ultimately envision- expanding my walls a little bit and buying some new light fixtures- but haven't been able to invest anymore since.

And the equipment required long before having anything to fill that display? I was recently without a laptop for about two weeks- my power cord finally frayed through. Luckily I found an off brand replacement cord for the 2013 model on Amazon (no telling how long it will actually last.) My desktop computer is two years older still- most software updates have long been phased out for both, and trying to do anything on these technological dinosaurs is one reason even the most simple tasks take me forever. But I manage to keep limping them along. My tripod falls apart if you so much as breathe on it. The autofocus on my camera (a 2014 relic itself) has gone haywire. I can still focus it manually, but if I'm being totally honest, should I ever get to the point that I can splurge on an eye exam, I know that I really need glasses too. (I was heartbroken to delete some of my favorite shots from that hike in Colorado because on closer look they weren't quite as sharp as they needed to be.)

I get by with all of this though. With duct tape and bungee cords and gumption and lots of swear words, I find a way to make it work. In the big picture, however, I know I can't MacGyver my way along forever. If any of these pieces fail, my ability to create new work will come to an immediate stop.

So with all of this in mind, I didn't go back to Wyoming that morning. Instead, I called my boss at the warehouse and asked if I could come in and work the rest of the week.

And it sucked. The days at work sucked. Not taking the trip I've been so looking forward to sucked, and more than anything- still being in this position sucks. I worked so hard last winter to get back on my feet. I changed course this summer and have been absolutely killing myself to try and balance my show schedule and this job. I've come to terms with the realization that I'm going to have to keep working it, and return full time through next winter- as miserable as going there every single day makes me. And it all sucks because just a couple months ago I had a few really good shows and felt like maybe I was starting to turn the corner.

Now it feels like around that corner was a brick wall.

But that's reality. It does suck sometimes. Sometimes fighting for your dreams means getting off work too tired to stand and still driving five hours to catch sunrise the next day; and sometimes it means giving up some sunrises to try and scrape together a few extra dollars instead. That's not a sacrifice that I ever wanted to have to make in my life, and I wish it wasn't the way things are- but along with the curse words and duct tape, it's how I keep moving forward. I need to keep clawing my way back to a point where I can get the things needed for my business to grow- not just survive.

And again, I'll offer the tired old disclaimer that I don't write this seeking sympathy or attention or to complain, but simply to provide an honest look behind the curtain at what it's like trying to make a go in this business. You're always walking a tight rope. Or at least I still am. And all it takes is a couple of bad shows- bad luck, bad weather, bad burritos- whatever, to jeopardize it all.

Here's the thing though... I read something awhile back that really struck a chord. It introduced me to the concept of approaching life by meeting yourself "where you are." Not through feelings of failure based on prior expectations, but instead by allowing yourself the grace and presence to constantly reassess and do the best that you can in your current situation.

Life right now isn't where I want it to be. But I know that, and I'm trying my best to get there. A year ago at this time, heck even three months ago, I didn't know if my business was even going to survive. I didn't have confidence in anything and nearly everything I did was out of desperation. Admittedly a year ago I would have gone ahead with that trip last week, just riding on a wing and a prayer. But I can see how similar choices that I did make at the time were out of desperation too. I think grasping to that sense of defiance and trying to see if I could still feel any spark of inner flame was something my soul badly needed then. And it still is, but I think I'm a little stronger now. A little more grounded, a little more patient, and a little more focused on what I need to do.

As long as the remainder of my outdoor art festivals go halfway decent, I know that I'll be able to carry my business into another year. Immediately in front of me is the chance to go home, try to have some good shows, keep growing and building for the future.

My next major festival is in Chicago- which is extremely intimidating for me- but it's also somewhere that I've wanted to try doing a show for a long, long time. I'll have a few weeks after to get out and take pictures, and get back to my long standing mission of showing people the beauty of Iowa's natural side. I'll also have those few weeks to step away from this damn warehouse job again; try to get some clarity, figure out where I go from here and revise my plan so that maybe a year from now I truly can make a living off of my images and writing alone.

And with a little luck- again depending on how these remaining shows play out, and how long the weather holds- I just might find the time to head up into the Winds when I come back west, and sneak that hike in still.

Life isn't without disappointments and I haven't made the progress I'd hoped for this summer, but there are also opportunities ahead.

So that's where I meet myself today.