The Bazaar

Several weeks ago, I signed up for the annual arts and crafts fair, hoping to exhibit and possibly sell some jewelry of my own design. There were three problems: (1) I had nothing to exhibit. (2) I'd brought few supplies with which to make anything to exhibit. (3) I'd be displaying my wares amongst ten other jewelers, all far more experienced and entirely prepared. Thus the past couple weeks have been a rather frantic test of my creativity and resourcefulness. (I can't take all the credit: mom and sis saved the day by picking out and shipping down a bunch of fantastic stones!)

Leading up to the show, some crafts were displayed in the store windows, including a set I made with copper wire from the power plant dumpster. This turned out to be exceedingly popular--a night shifter set her alarm to make sure she'd be first in line to buy it!

Perhaps most interesting was how poorly I predicted my audience's aesthetic. What I considered my finest creations were touched a lot, but went unsold. What does this mean? Wrong price point? Yet my trail flag earrings--which I thought were rather unspectacular--sold like hotcakes.

In addition to jewelers, the show featured knitters, painters, potters, and photographers. And customers. Lots of customers.

My humble booth.

Definitely an interesting, eye-opening experience...but perhaps not my calling. As nice as it was to take peoples' money, the pressures of production and salesmanship took much of the fun out of this otherwise enjoyable (if expensive) hobby.

In other news, my roommates and I finally completed the legendary "beeramid."

It toppled over soon after completion.