Just Hold On

I was two hours into manning the booth at my very first art fair — the Greater Conroe Art Festival in Conroe, Texas — and though I hadn’t sold anything yet I was still confident that potential collectors were out there somewhere. The conversations I was having with people as they passed through gave me good information about their tastes and the support group of my fellow art vendors nearby proved to be a good source of cheerleading. We’re all in this together!

The weather wasn’t great. It was cold (for Texas, low 50s) and no sun in sight. The crowd was a lot lighter than the previous year, but it was my first time showing at an art fair, and I was intent on having a positive experience no matter what.

And then came a mighty wind.

When it happened, I was facing the street, offering a friendly smile to all passersby. With my back to the booth, I didn’t see it. I only witnessed the wide eyed, mouth-covering reactions from two women walking by, who watched in horror as the wind sent my grid wall crashing into the table in front of it with a substantial *SMASH*.

I turned around to see half of my paintings lying on the ground: busted, ripped canvases, shattered glass and wood frames all destroyed. A hushed crowd gathered to see what calamity had just taken place.

After a second or two of accounting the destruction, all I wanted to do was cry. BUT THERE’S NO CRYING IN BASEBALL!

Okay, so I didn’t cry. But I wanted to quit. My body broke out into a cold sweat and I was ready to go home and go to bed. Except… I couldn’t. I didn’t.

Months of time, preparation and sacrifice had been invested for this very day. I couldn’t just cry about an unlucky mishap and quit. But I am telling you right now: I absolutely wanted to. I considered it for about ten more seconds.

But then some friends of mine rushed to my aid. Jennifer, Jeff, Will. A bunch of other folks — including complete strangers — immediately found their way to my tent to help me clean up, take inventory and better secure my grids. They encouraged me with smiles, jokes, kindness and care. They made themselves available — exactly what I needed at that moment — and gave me the confidence to just hold on.

So I did. A little bit later I made a sale. And then another. And another. All because I just held on.

Ironically, the very next day I was proudly standing next to a piece that I did for a show called “Coram Deo: The Presence of God”, held by the Artifex group at the Heights Church in Houston. “Hold On” — the name of the piece — was my interpretation of what the “presence of god” means.

It is no secret that I’ve been an atheist my entire adult life. But lately I have been craving a strong spiritual presence, something to give me hope and help me through the tough times that keep coming up. For me that phrase is paramount: hold on. Dude, just hold on. Hang in there. Don’t give up. Keep going. Don’t quit. Keep showing up.

That’s the very idea that has been keeping me afloat.

I hope it can help you too.

And who knows, maybe you’ll even make a sale or two.