I had an Etsy sale a couple of days ago (or was it a week ago…damn these summer days are blending together) and it was a pleasant surprise. I don’t promote my shop on any social networks and apart from renewing listings sporadically in tune with the tides of the ocean (or something just as useless and esoteric) I honestly do nothing with it, besides just enjoy the thought of having my things up there. Every few months i’ll have an unexpected sale from some part of the globe and it’ll light me up inside, spark that interest to actually do something with said shop; to participate in local teams and attend craft fairs. And while those thoughts usually fade by the time i’ve dropped off the sold items at the post office, the high of the sale lasts a couple of days.
Recently, I put up a couple of my original pen&ink mountain landscape artworks, as well as a some of my colored pencil/watercolor ones. I doubt they’ll actually sell, as i’m not offering them up for pennies (though I don’t think i’m overselling them either…pricing your own artwork is the worst job for any artist out there, seriously, I dare you to tell me otherwise) but it feels…nice, to have them up there. Rounds out the shop, I think.
Anyways, on the totally off chance you’re reading this, thank you lovely person in Tennessee who bought my Go, Explore pencil pouch! You’re an angel.
Not drowning in my Coffee cups yet,
P.S If anyone’s interested, you can use the coupon code ” SLEEPYCOFFEE “,to get free shipping on any orders (domestic and international). The shop:
Maybe, on a long enough time line, given eternity and whatever comes before and beyond, a secret is as inconsequential as the way light falls on a sidewalk.
But in this timeframe, a humans lifespan of a timeline, they can be as monumental as a shovel breaking virgin ground and as devastating as a gunshot. An empire can be built over ages on their webbed foundations, while an institution could be torn down by one in just the flash of a camera. A love to span time, blindsided by a single sentence not uttered, or a friendship torn to shreds given just one single glimpse of something hidden. So… we learned how to hide them, stitch them up inside walls of doubt, and shelter them behind easy, practiced smiles. We buried them in the dirt out back or placed them out like trophies on the mantle, in plain sight but so very well hidden. Some worn against hot skin around their necks, others inked them into their flesh, like wards against the past they swore they would not meet again.
Because the thing about secrets, simple put and easily quantified, is that they can shape our lives and worlds if we let them. They are past and future, present and forever, only given how we choose to hide them.
Part of a series i’m working on, as a way to stretch out those creative writing tendrils a bit. This is the previous(and first) post in the series.