I haven’t made a blog post because there’s nothing to tell. I mean, I’ve been busy prepping the garage and whatnot for the Tour which begins this Saturday. I know I mentioned before that I was ready, but I’m never ready. And I’m nervous. Did I mention that I’m nervous?

Did I mention that I have mad social anxiety? I’m a bit overwhelmed even thinking about having people over. Talking to them. Answering questions. Just being social overall. Even hanging around people I know well and really like exhausts me. It’s nothing personal at all. It’s only because I’m such an introvert, and introverts everywhere know exactly what I’m talking about. They have to take a nap after a couple of hours of socializing.

It’s not fun. It’s hard for me to accept because I don’t like that I’m like this.

Being an artist, this is part of the job. You have to talk to people. Gah! A lot of looky-loos and buyers want to meet you and talk to you about your work. It’s flattering and it’s sweet. I wish everyone knew how utterly appreciative I am. I want to ooze thankfulness and love, and then I want to lay down as soon as possible!

I get nervous about what people expect of me. Did I mention? It’s not about what they think or even how they are judging me exactly. It’s just that I aim to accommodate people, and if I don’t know what they’re thinking, then I can’t help them. And no one can know what other people are thinking, right? You can only guess. I tend to guess the worstest things. I blame my mother for this. I know shouldn’t because I’m a grown-ass person. I’ve been in therapy for forever. I should practically be perfectly behaved by now, but I’m not. I mean, I’m better than I used to be but I’m still very flawed.

Unfortunately, I have a negative slant on life and a low opinion of myself. So, I kind of figure–so does everyone else. Isn’t that awful? It is. I’m always working on changing it though. I think secretly, I have a little confident fire inside me that burns. At times, it flickers, and other times it roars. 

Okay, so what’s left to do? Not much. Gotta get little waters for the peeps for the Tours. I have some simple non-greasy cookies already. I don’t want people touching my books with greasy hands after all.

Hannah is making all my signs. She hasn’t made them yet, which makes me a little uneasy, but she’s going to. Today or tomorrow I suppose. I don’t want to ask. It’s her job and I’m trying not to micro-manage it. I need quite a few different types of signs. Arrows, studio numbered ones, a thing about wearing masks, where spaces are off-limits, “don’t come to the front door and knock,” dog policy, etc.

I also need to set up another couple of tables with all my books and I’m awaiting some little Sketches books from up north from Chance Press. Something inexpensive to sell. 

I did just get word from Hannah that the credit card thingie is all set up and ready to go–that thing that hooks up to your tablet and accepts credit cards. The one we just got is a new one and will take the cards with the chip in it.

Speaking of which. I don’t usually mention shit like this. I kinda hate talking about my sales. Did I mention that I feel funny about doing it? But this is an odd story that happened last Friday. It also goes with the whole thing with me worrying about the lack of promotion being open all three weeks of the Tour. 

Okay, so there was a couple from Indio having lunch at this fancy restaurant up here in Flamingo Heights. The Tour catalogs are all over town and some are there, of course. They looked in there and saw my listing with three of my paintings and wanted one of them. They decided to go to my website on their phone and found my email and emailed me a message asking if I would open “TODAY.”

I got their message within 15 minutes and emailed them back to tell them I didn’t have that particular painting here. It’s with Craig, but maybe during the tour, I could interest them in something else. I also said it was possible I could let them come by later that afternoon and gave them my phone number.

Well they called me in the same minute that I sent that email. They informed me they were right outside of my house! Whaa? (My address is in the catalog, but not how to get here–they must have used GPS, duh!) It was still a shock since the Tour started more than a week away. And I was in my pajamas.

“Give me a few minutes,” I said. 

I opened my garage door and they were parked in my driveway. They came inside and looked through the art. They were very nice. They wound up buying a bigger painting and were thrilled with it. We took a credit card on that little thingie that connects to that Square app thingie, but it didn’t work exactly. We had to punch in all the numbers, which is why we bought a new one.

Anyway, the whole thing was pretty quick and surreal. So much for worrying that people won’t find me.