I go down the street a few blocks every Sunday of the summer with our Wonder Wagon and a portion of the Beerhorst clan to do the Fulton Street Artisans Market. This last Sunday was no exception how ever I had a persistent storm cloud that was over my head and followed right along with me to the market which made everything so much more of a struggle.

I just couldn't seem to shake it and I was finding myself wanting to just hide myself away in the wagon and let Rose interact with the people coming through the market. I kept thinking about how I don't belong with these people and their stupid crafts, that my art should be in a proper gallery among other "real" artists. My arrogant attitude and accompanying thoughts just threw me into a deep well of resentment and negativity. At around 11:30 Rose suggested I just go on home and relieve her of my crummy vibe.

Around noon I took Rose up on her offer and began walking home. I got about as far as the little brick building on Fulton Street when I heard this whisper of a voice inside my head say "What in the fuck are you doing? Go back there and make the most of this opportunity I have given you. Just start being friendly and reach out." And that's what I did. I began saying hello to people and smiling which felt like running in the sand at the beach but eventually the door of my heart swung all the way open and it became easy. Needless to say I had a really good time at the market from about 12:30 'till it closed at 3:00 and actually sold more that day than any day I ever have in three years and had some really cool interactions with some very interesting people including a couple visiting from Japan who bought an original wood block print to take back with them.

This experience of last Sunday has been haunting me all week. It reminds me of the battle we often face as we continue on in our life path. It often seems that it gets particularly difficult just before something really good wants to break through