Somewhere between Plan A ...and whatever letter I'm on now

Charlie offering moral support while I attempt to turn studio chaos into an art-fair booth.

This week, I don’t have a new painting to share.

Instead, my studio is in various stages of organized chaos as I get ready for the Beaver Brook Fall Festival in Hollis this Saturday.

I had such a nice plan. Last weekend I was going to set up my booth in the studio, figure out exactly where everything would go, get my prints finished and have everything neatly ready ahead of time.

That is not quite how it went.

The baskets I ordered for my new print display weren’t right. Then my printer needed a new maintenance cartridge. I found replacement baskets. Those weren’t right either. Back they went.

It started to feel a little like the messy middle of a painting—that stage where nothing is quite working yet and you wonder why something that seemed so straightforward has suddenly become so complicated.

And yes, part of me was frustrated. I’ve learned that pretending I’m not frustrated doesn’t make the feeling disappear. Sometimes I just have to acknowledge it: I hear you. This is frustrating. You’re allowed to feel that way.

And then I can figure out what to do next.

One print at a time. Progress doesn’t always look dramatic.

For me, that’s making one small decision. Taking the next baby step.  One plan B or C.

Somewhere along the way this week, I found myself thinking about water moving through a stream. It doesn’t stop when it encounters a rock and complain that the rock wasn’t supposed to be there. It finds another way around.

Maybe there’s something in that.

Especially when we’re doing something new. I’m changing my booth this year to give my prints more prominence, so of course there was going to be some trial and error. I just hadn't factored the error part into my lovely little plan.

Meanwhile, these works-in-progress have been calling to me like sirens all week. I’m trying very hard not to listen. Booth prep first!

But eventually another layout emerged.

Most of the prints are finished.

The studio chaos is slowly becoming something that resembles a display booth fit for a wildlife loving family festival.

And, much to my relief, I like this new layout.

On Friday evening, I’ll be setting it all up at Beaver Brook before heading to Nashua for dinner and an overnight visit with good friends—one of my favorite little traditions surrounding this show.

So that’s where I am this week. No finished painting. No grand revelation.

Just a reminder I apparently needed myself:

When you encounter a rock, you don't always have to push harder.

Sometimes you can just flow around it.