Sparkle Market 2023 vs 2024
The worrying never stops. It just evolves.
I’ve been reflecting on this year’s Sparkle Mart vs last year’s. I felt awful that I didn’t have much new work to sell. I didn’t like my metal display panels, I felt they were too industrial-looking for my work, and I was wracking my brain trying to figure out how to make them more attractive. I scrolled through Amazon for hours, trying to solve my problems by buying yet more stuff.
I had JUST found out I was pregnant, I was off of all of my psych medications, and I felt bewildered and foggy. My dad was back in the hospital, throwing up blood, suspected internal bleeding after having a heart bypass right around Thanksgiving.
2023 had already been so hard. I’d had a miscarriage that spring. I’d gone to Ireland that summer with my mother, and rather than being relaxed and energized I was somehow even more wound up than when I’d left. A teenage girl was shot and killed the first day my 3-year-old started public school; we walked by the spot almost every day.
So, I threw myself into work of selling at a craft fair. Plastered a smile on, told folks about my classes and my birds and why it was important to me and tried to ignore the tiny collection of cells dividing steadily inside of me. Tried to ignore that the human body only holds 8 to 10 pints of blood and my dad had needed FIVE UNITS. Stopped researching bullet proof backpacks that were light enough for three-year-olds to carry.
The show passed in a daze. My husband was wrangling our perpetually sick preschooler, so once the show was over I decided I didn’t want to be a bother. I was exhausted but I could power through. It took hours and endless trips back and forth to the car.
By the next morning I was bleeding. I called the OGBYN in a panic, rushed to the office. Got to see my potential baby on the sonogram, something I hadn’t gotten to see before my miscarriage earlier that year.
Everything looked ok. Was told to take it easy, don’t overdo it, don’t lift anything over 10 lbs for a while.
The aluminum display panels sat in the back of the car for weeks. I didn’t want to look at them, but they rattled every time I went over the slightest bump and set my teeth on edge.
Eventually I had my baby, but I still struggled with overdoing it my entire pregnancy and postpartum too.
This year the worries aren’t any less plentiful, just different.
Both of my kids have been sick since September. My now 4-year-old kid still has to do lockdown drills to prepare for active shooter events. My husband just got the job he’s been working towards for the better part of a decade, but the new administration adds a whole new layer of uncertainty and anxiety. New administration means that the economic development that was going to bring fresh jobs to my city is never going to happen. My girls aren’t going to grow up with the same opportunities and rights that I had growing up.
A month before this year’s Sparkle Mart I was admitted to the hospital. I’d wake up to breastfeed at 3am and start writing stream of consciousness tirades in my phone, unable to get back to sleep. I felt 4-cocktails drunk, even when sober, and had started seeing/hearing things that weren’t there. I’d reached a profound state of euphoria and thought I had finally figured out how to heal the world with art. Turns out you can become so exhausted and dehydrated that you can literally make yourself crazy.
I got help, but I still can’t stop obsessing about things that are totally and completely outside of my control.
So, this year, I got rid of the panels and got a cheap photography sweep frame, some binder clips, a 10’x10’ mosquito mesh panel, picture hanging wire, and some curtain rod clips. My display was definitely less robust but definitely cleaner-looking, easier to put up and break down. My mom and dad (with his newly improved heart) were able to help me break down and get all my stuff back to the house within an hour.
New Year’s resolution for 2025: stop overdoing it. Ask for help when I need help. To be gentle with myself and stop stretching myself so thin. Focus on what I can control rather than work myself up over circumstances I can’t change. Don’t sweat the small stuff.
To everyone that read this far—PM me, even if it’s been years. Let’s get together and draw, even if it’s just over zoom. I see you. I love you. don’t be a stranger. Don’t be afraid to ask for help when you need it.