making the ordinary extraordinary

I wound up moving back to my hometown to be with my family, trying out different jobs along the way. I worked with attorneys, which I loved; worked for a major insurance company-which I hated. Managed a few offices and crunched numbers, I enjoyed that, but my creative energies were muffled, stifled. Suffocating.

 

While at the insurance company I started getting crafty in my spare time. Repurposing little things here and there, coming up with new and fun ones to decorate and make things over. Then I started blogging about it.

 

During this time I also picked up writing for a local magazine, which absolutely lit my fire for writing again, although I wasn't writing anything I was passionate about. This prompted me to starting working on fiction pieces, trying new things and stretching my writing muscles.

 

About a year ago I began writing for a wonderful magazine, Enjoy! It has been absolute blessing as I am doing my two favorite things- writing and crafting. The creative freedom this has given me has opened one new door and lit my fire to seriously begin working on a book.

 

As for the door that was opened? Well, it's on this site. I have developed a serious love for refurbishing, shabby chic'ing and making things over. My friends and family have told me for years that I should sell my stuff, but my response was why? Who's going to buy my stuf? Aren't there a lot of crazy talented people out there all ready? What do I have to offer? It turns out, the answers were obvious. Why not? Lots of people! Heck yeah! A lot.

 

I finally decided to take a risk. I picked up contracts to become a vendor at a tiny store in my tiny town on a tiny shelf. I spent a month shopping for good bargains, not really sure what my niche would be or what would sell well. I figured the beginning would be trial and error. I worked hard rebuilding, gluing, nailing, sanding, painting, sanding again and waxing. When I built up a few boxes of merchandise, I felt ready. Armed with a check for $30, the very reasonable vendor fee, I drove over to the shop, contracts in hand. I was out about $200 and I was nervous. If it didn't work out, I would lose the money and move on to something else. Back to the 9-5 grind.

 

It turns out, there was much more at stake than I thought. When I went into the shop, I was greeted by the owner...who told me she was shutting down the business in a few weeks.

 

I was crushed. It had failed before I even started.

 

I hopped onto the freeway and drove into the larger town about 10 minutes away. I used that time to regroup. What was I going to do? Was I ready to give up? No. No, I wasn't.

 

At the time all of this was happening, there were two established antique/vendor malls in town, with two new ones just starting out. I knew I needed to be somewhere with a good customer base. Preferrably a great location, in the center of town. The first place I went was full, so I half-heartedly added myself to the vendor list. The second place didn't have the most central location and had underwent an ownership change...but it was well-known. People drive for hours to come to this antique mall. I spent some time looking around, taking in the well-designed booths, the beautiful merchandise and the friendly faces of the people who worked there. The owners greeted me enthusiastically, explained they had owned the building for years and had recently taken over the management of the shop. Due to the changing of hands, the entire upstairs was currently closed...but was about to open for new vendors in the next few weeks.

 

Armed with that information I left, mulling over my options. A week later I returned with my mom, who is also one of my besties. She shopped will I talked with Kate, one half of the husband and wife team who own the building. She had as sweet smile and a warm deamnor. The easiest way to describe her would be to say she is kind. She took me upstairs and showed me around, explaining the pricing and when the spaces would become available. The most desirable booth, right at the top of the stairs, was already spoken for and was more than triple what I would have paid at the tiny shop, for the tiny shelf in my tiny town. While it was a very competive price for the antique malls in town, I was taking a big financial risk on this venture and I was scared to lose too much. I told her what I thought I could afford and she showed me a small, closet sized space on the opposite side of the store. I nodded. I shook her hand. I could make that work.

 

Move in day came faster than I dreamed while I frantically worked my fingers to the bone to prepare enough merchandise for my much larger space.