Hello everyone!
I thought it was about time. I shared a little update from my artist journey. It all started in August when I put up my very first pop-up stall, not quite knowing what to expect. It’s November now, and I’ve somehow managed to do eight stalls since then.
Some have been absolutely wonderful. Some have been disappointing. Some have made me cry, and some have taken me straight to cloud nine.
It’s been a roller coaster, to say the least.
For the longest time, I was an artist who existed behind screens and within the four walls of my home. My paintings travelled to different parts of the world, found homes with international buyers, and reached people I never really got to meet. I would send an artwork away and perhaps receive a photograph or a message in return. But I rarely got to witness what happened when someone actually stood in front of my art.
The stalls changed that. Suddenly, I was meeting people who had never heard of me, who would stop by, look at my paintings, smile, ask questions, and sometimes take a little piece of my art home.
And some of these moments have stayed with me. There was a couple who bought one of my cat paintings. They told me it looked exactly like their cat who had passed away. Even after buying it, they stood there looking at the painting. I could see tears in their eyes. I remember watching them, and feeling that emotion with them. These are the moments I make art for.
It’s difficult to explain what it feels like when something you’ve created connects with someone in a way you could never have planned. I’ve also had people from the corporate world tell me that just looking at my stall made them happy. That their nine-to-five days could sometimes get a little monotonous, and they wanted to take home an affordable print to keep near their desks. Something colourful to look at between meetings, deadlines and spreadsheets. And I thought that was wonderful. A little painting, sitting next to someone’s laptop, quietly making their workday a little happier.
I’ve had strangers tell me that some people are simply made to bring joy into the world. An elderly lady blessed me and wished me well. People have stopped by just to tell me that they hope my art brings happiness to many more people. Sometimes, someone says something to you in passing, and you carry it home. I think that’s one of the loveliest things about putting yourself out there. You meet people you would otherwise never have met, and some of them leave you with something much more valuable than a sale.
But, of course, it isn’t all sunshine and rainbows. Setting up an artist stall is not quite the dreamy, Pinterest-worthy experience it looks like in photographs. First, you have to get everything into a car. Then travel with all of it. Unload everything. Set up the tables, displays, paintings, products, signage and a hundred other little things that somehow always need doing. Setting up alone takes me anywhere between two and three hours. Then comes the actual event. Standing for almost the entire day, talking to people, answering questions, interacting with customers, rearranging things, and surviving on an unreasonable amount of coffee. And when it’s over, you pack everything up and do it all again in reverse. It’s physically exhausting. It takes a toll on you, and doing this every weekend, sometimes back-to-back, isn’t exactly easy. There have been stalls with barely any footfall. Imagine travelling all that way, putting in hours of work, setting up everything with so much excitement, only to spend most of the day waiting for people to walk in. I’ve come home crying after some of these events. There were days when I genuinely wondered why I was putting myself through all of this.
And yet, I kept signing up for the next one. I keep saying I’ll take a break. I still haven’t quite mastered that part!
Therapy With Colours has seen a lot over the years. There have been months when I barely felt like creating anything. Months when I questioned why I was making art at all, when I wasn’t quite sure where I was going or what I was building. I create because I love it. Art has always been the language I know best. But these last few months have changed something in me. I’ve seen people smile because of something I’ve made. I’ve seen someone reconnect with a memory through a painting. I’ve seen people take home little pieces of colour because they wanted something joyful in their everyday lives.
And I’ve realised that perhaps art doesn’t always have to change the world in some grand, extraordinary way. Sometimes, it just has to make someone’s ordinary day a little less ordinary. I think that’s enough. More than enough, actually.
I started doing these stalls because I wanted to show my art to the world. I didn’t realise how much the world would show me in return. To everyone who has stopped by, smiled, spoken to me, bought something, shared a story, wished me well or simply spent a few minutes at my stall — thank you. You probably don’t realise how much those little interactions mean to me.
And to the little artist who spent years creating within four walls, wondering if her work would ever find its people:
I think we’re getting there.
One stall, one painting, one stranger and one smile at a time.
Happy Creating.