I barely broke even at this year's first pop-up hahaha! However, there was something else more important that happened. You see, in my many years here on this earth that's currently struggling to regain and reclaim its old magics, I've come to realise that the things that happen that we pay attention to are not always the main things. Sometimes we are actually distracted, looking not exactly at the wrong things but the less important things. It's like when we have just one expectation from one thing, or when we believe or assume that events will or should only turn out a certain way to be considered a good thing.
We make plans, of course. Everyday is a balancing act between order and chaos, within our own lives and in relation to the spaces we live in. But plans go awry, often through circumstances beyond our control.
On the first day of the pop-up, everything was slow. There weren't much people. I sold a few small things. But my mom gave me money for dinner as an extra birthday treat. If not for that I would have gone without a meal and just waited to get home to eat. If not for that I would not have discovered how very delicious the meals are in this nice Korean restaurant across the street. Service was excellent and for a few minutes while waiting for my take-out order I got to rest in a quiet place out of the relative heat of the outdoor market. The food was simple -- I only ordered gimbap (which came with four side dishes) -- but flavourful and generous. That meal sustained me through the rest of the evening and uplifted my mood. Last year I would have panicked already at selling so little. I'm still behind on rent and a couple of monthly bills. But it felt like a waste to worry after such a heart-full meal.
The second day, which was yesterday, the road traffic was horrible. We inched our way along. We had planned as the previous day to set up early so we could get a nice spot. But the travel time took more than an hour, and it was less than half an hour to opening when we arrived. Fortunately we still got a good spot.
While caught in the middle of standstill traffic, I could have worried about losing a good spot, or gotten annoyed at the wasted time of preparing and leaving home early. I would have done that last year, especially knowing that there are often buyers who browse and shop even before the market officially opened. I had sold a painting that way once, having gained a head-start by being set-up and ready an hour before opening. But instead I turned up the volume on my Spotify and settled in for a light nap, daydreams weaving in and out of the music, trying out various permutations of possibilities -- of being invited to go to Japan with all expenses paid, of being sponsored by an anonymous art patron who would turn out to be a real blue-heart princeling, of being commissioned to make art for a music video or a book cover or an album cover, of being offered a day job sideline that is actually more related to my creative path and thus bring me closer and into the kind of social circles that would eventually pave the way into Japan... yes, we keep coming back to Japan. I want to go back to studying Nihongo.
The second day of the pop-up had more visitors but sales remained slow. But a lot of people took a card, and a lot lingered. I would have been disheartened halfway through the evening. Instead I wasn't. I could have started complaining internally and blaming the traffic and thinking it was a string of bad luck.
But instead I went around the market and connected with fellow artists especially those I've already met in other markets, and those I've met through Instagram. As the event drew to a close, there was this surprising exchange of gifts! Artists exchanging art, encouraging each other, happy for each other's journeys, and looking forward to meeting again. I didn't really have money to spare but I bought stickers that would be perfect for my journal and which I felt were seeds in disguise.
An artist (and her mother who is also an artist) whom I had met more than a year ago and who has become a very dear friend dropped by for my birthday with a gift, and there was a bit of catching up that passed the time with much heartwarming joy. There was a seed of a possibility that sprung up in the conversation, but it needs to ripen and we will wait. Things take time. And the time does not matter if it is meant, because it will happen eventually, and in the best and only way it will. Serendipities, synchronicities. Things that fall into place have been falling for a long time, seeking their destinations. The right place at the right time can only be found and navigated towards by a heart that is true and one that clings to hope.
Because of the previous night's satisfying meal, I decided to indulge in another meal from the same restaurant. This time I had the tteokbokki meal. Consistent excellent service and delicious food. Check them out here.
Despite coming up short on the financial rewards, the evening ended on a high note. With warm goodbyes that promised meeting again, with gratitude for the art foundation who made the event possible (Thank you BGC Art Mart!), with hope that next time it will be better. I'll show up again in March -- because in a dream from three to four years ago, I was told that I should keep showing up. The message came from a person, an artist, whom I have admired and have deep affection for. In the dream he said, "If you keep showing up, I will grow to love you."
So, I'll see you in March, maybe? I'll be on the lookout, as I've always been, for the signs and the clues. I know that the face you used in the dream is a mask. I know now that most things of the heart are not literal, but a language of symbols and myths and music and colours and poetry.