Being an artist is not easy. It's a labour of love and passion. On a good day, you might sell something, but it never truly covers expenses or overhead. I've spent a fortnight prepping for tomorrow's craft fair. Now don't get me wrong, I love this stuff. Getting up at the witching hour, driving to towns you never knew existed. (in hopes of a large crowd with fists full of cash) The artery clogging sammich and coffee from the doughnut hole, listening to the bitter couple in the next tent mouth off at each other. Good times. no, really. But after pitching the tent, setting up and sitting behind the table of blood sweat money and tears, you pray for sales. Now mind you, most of these craft fairs are cack, I spend more on coffee and petrol and other vendors shyte than I made all day. But i still do it. I spend countless hours prepping, rearranging, reinventing, repackaging product My house has monster dust bunnies, my moggies look at me like, "who the feck are you?" But I push on. Every now and again, someone says, I love it all! Then I feel good again. Let's see what tomorrow brings.