I Finally Did The Market Thing

It took me years to get here: having the guts to show people, in-person, what I made with the hopes they would, not just like my creations, but also be motivated to support me with a purchase.

I always find selling my creations to be a very vulnerable process. It’s like: “I made this from an idea. Not sure anyone would understand it, but I hope someone would like it enough to spend money on it.”

Part of me felt bad to be asking for payment. Which contradicts my intention to sell in the first place. Which is also why I get so scared to price my offerings. “Is the price too high? Or maybe I should charge lower, but then it undervalues my own effort and creativity?” Even though I did costing calculations to justify the price.

Or is this just me? And not valuing my own worth?

I had my concerns… if being too different makes it difficult for people to understand. Especially when I also sometimes struggle to explain my creations and ideas when they are not straightforward, and can be multi-layered.

Then again, if it pains me so much, why do it? Because I want to? Not because I like pain (I don’t), but because I want to see how far I could go with it. Basically, scared but want to test myself at the same time.

I know… everything is just brimming with contradiction! I’ll just put it as, “It’s complicated” here.

Share

“You have very unique items. Different from other booths,” said one customer as she bought the blind envelope oracle from my booth at the market I did last weekend. I wrote about the prepping process in my last article.

That remark surprised me. I didn’t know how to react to it then and there. I just smiled nervously.

Honestly, throughout the two-day market event, I may look calm on the outside, I was really nervous and panicky on the inside. I’m grateful for friends who came by to help and kept me company, even when I didn’t ask. So that kept me from looking like a lone worrywart standing at my booth.

Sometimes I wonder: Does sharing this vulnerability out in the open like this doing a disservice to me? Like I rat myself out or something?

OK. Maybe it’s really just my nerves nerving.

My creations, especially the blind envelope oracle, was well-received at the market. I’m thankful for the feedback and reactions received, as some said the message they got was “spot on”, or they felt seen or “called out”, or “this is exactly what I’m going through now, and the message helped.”

I was relieved, actually. I had stressed over the card messages for weeks. Rewrote it five times before it went to print. I’m glad the messages was helpful and gave hope to those currently going through changes in life.

The Hidden Letters Oracle is sold in a parcel of 12 sealed envelopes, or as single sealed envelopes in an Open Box. The Open Box is only available at my booth during the market.

The blind envelope oracle follows the same concept as those trendy blind box figurines. The only difference is that, instead of getting a figurine, you get an oracle reading – one card and its message in a letter, and two exclusively designed sticker amulets as an added layer of meaning to the message.

One customer bought one envelope from the Open Box on Day 1 and was surprised by the message that she returned the next day to buy another envelope. Another was shy to open her envelope in front of me, but was amazed by her message that she went back and got her friends to pick one too.

I feel the oracle did as intended: delivered the message to those who needed to hear it at the present moment.

Nerves aside, I did enjoy the whole experience. So much so that I’m already excited about doing the next one.

I learned a lot in those two days. Like, not to doubt myself so much, and not to make myself so small. The idea of doing the market was to be seen and expand my outreach for new customers. I had to get used to being up front and talking about my work.

I knew very well where all these incessant insecurities and second-guessing came from: a childhood and even adulthood of being told that I am not right, not good, and not smart for anything. Even at fifty, I still struggle to mute those voices in my head, playing like a recording I didn’t asked for. Gradual as it is, I’m learning to deprogram what has been conditioned in me most of my life; reminding myself that those words don’t apply to me.

As my first market experience has turned into a memorable lived experience, it has given me the confidence to share more of what I do and create. That this odd and quirky voice has something to say, and that some people would appreciate it.

It also made me less afraid to price my creations, and learn to be firm with my decision-making.

I really did enjoy the process of making, of working with my hands. At the last minute, days before the market, I made a wee zine about the creative process. The cycle is never a perfect circle. Despite the ups and downs, I still want to do it again.

Share Andrealism: Open Notes & Long Conversations

I admit the whole experience – from the making process to market day – was exhilarating. I was so tired by end of Day 2 but was already excited chatting with the market organiser about the next event I’m aiming for.

I’m thankful to the organiser, Craftaffair, and fellow vendors there. I feel so welcomed to the community. Everyone was there to share their work and talents, and I am happy to help uplift each other.

Till the next market then! I have so many ideas!

Andrealism holds essays on lived experiences, and making things. It also features my art and photography.

Thank you for reading and for your company.

~ Andrea

About Me