i just had a week that seems to be repeated over and over in my life. I am invited to participate in a forum in which my wares are for sale. What are my wares - well they are my ideas and the illustration of my ideas. What has occured to contravene any succcess and monetary renumeration for the sale of my ideas? My computer has gone haywire - my husband's father has suffered and will continue to suffer health issues that require visitations ( and rightfully so).
My concepts may take the form of paper ephemera or cloth ephemera. I am to be paired with a lady who sells a line of rubber stamps and the attendant paraphenalia necessary to record the progress of a beloved family star - cheerleader, football player, fat assed bar be que afficionado and the hilarious stamps and labels necessary to record his culinary triumphs. To say that these stamps are trendy and slick sounds sour grapey doesn't it. but lets reflect. I am doomed from the outset. The commercial stamps and paraphenalia support a very real and concrete need to express the creativity of the purchaser of the stamp. My stuff is more a niche oriented appeal. You have to doubt the biblical Adam, Eve, Apple, Snake thing. You have to question the whole wife in a pumpkin shell thingie with Peter. Too often - I do not appeal. Much better to buy the wee wittle birdie you can place all over the page as often as you like. Why do i even pour time and money into repeated failure. What's a monke to do.
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