***********If you haven't read Parts I and II, scroll all the way down to the bottom....**************
*******************And, this time, really grab that coffee :)********************************
After touring the art gallery, and loving what I saw. I prayed. I journaled. And, I asked for the confidence and strength I would need to talk to my current boss (who was also had played a very maternal part in my life, for the past four years). I will never forget the drive into work that morning...overcome with anxiety, yet KNOWING that the Lord was there beside me, holding my hand all the way, and that I COULD do this, because I was listening to Him...He had opened the proverbial door for me, and it was my job to follow His lead.
I did it. I told her exactly what had happened. I told her that she would be getting a phone call from the museum to check my references. She listened, and she cried. But she was (and is ) a wonderful person, one who though was admittedly sad to be losing her dependable assistant, picked up the phone when my eventual new boss called, and gave me a glowing reccommendation (I later learned through tears). I started my new job as a Gallery Curator just a few weeks later.
Life as a curator was pretty nice. I had control over which shows we would bring in, worked with some amazing people, met fabulous artists, planned events and art openings. Really, an amazing job...at the time I called it "a dream come true." And though I enjoyed going to work everyday in such an aesthetically pleasing space, surrounded by gorgeous works of art and really cool people, something still tugged at my heartstrings. My baby. Now nine months old, it had become admittedly easier to leave him, and though I had scaled back my hours and time away quite a bit, my phone still rang with questions when I was at home with him, and I often had to be out late, "schmoozing" with artists, working an opening, or supervising a gallery event. Though my priority was my family, and I made that clear, I still had a job to do, and had to be available and give it my "all" while I was there.
My first winter in the gallery, we brought in a show with an incredible maritime artist, one who was very highly regarded in the art world, and who's brilliantly detailed oil paintings sold for a cool 50 grand (on average). The biggest show in the gallery to date, it gave me the opportunity to hob-nob with the local celebrities and really work on my ability to "sell" the work. I have my BFA in Art History, with a concentration in painting, so I have a good background of knowledge in terms of composition, line, medium, material, and quality of work...but could I SELL it....totally different can of worms! I found out I could sell the work, and I had the opportunity to learn from people who had been in the business for years, as we partnered with another gallery who had a long history of promoting wonderful artists and had found great success! I was in my element.
Still reeling from the success of the maritime show, it came time to close it, and ship all of the art work back to the East Coast. I had help from the other gallery, as it was a very tedious and pain-staking job...which I still had little experience with. After all was shipped out, I found myself home with my baby boy one Monday afternoon (we were closed Mondays). It was a cold, gray winter's day, and there seemed nothing better to do than to snuggle up with my sweet toddler, and nap the afternoon away. Just as I was beginning to fall asleep, my cell phone rang. Startled, and debating whether or not I should expend the effort to get out of bed and see who was calling, I gave in, and got there just in time to see a missed call from a number I didn't recognize. I immediately checked my voice mail, and a panicked voice on the other end, (with an unmistakeable East Coast accent), was calling to inquire about an original painting which was MISSING from our shipment, as well a reproduction that had arrived DAMAGED.
My heart stopped. The tears started. Almost immediately, the cool, collected, hob-nobbing art curator vanished, and out came the insecure, tired, harried mama, who longed to just pull the covers up tight around her head and enjoy a slumber-filled afternoon with her baby boy. I was devestated. It turns out that even though I was working with the established local gallery to de-install this show, the descision to ship back ground insted of air was not a good one. We were a small-town gallery, under the umbrella of a non-profit museum. We did earn some revenue from sales, but typically speaking our funding came from grants and large donations from community members. The expense to ship air would have blown our budget completely, which is why our team (which also consisted of employees from the other gallery) decided to ship ground. But, guess who's name was on the packaging....mine (and our gallery's). Solely. I cried, and cried, and cried.
The Lord used this moment to prepare my heart, I believe. It took weeks to resolve this issue. Weeks of me worrying, and stressing. Not only were we talking about money, but about an original work of art that was irreplaceable. Painted in the 50's... The idea of that kept me up at night much more than the idea of the financial loss. Thank the Lord, it was eventually found. The gallery did have to pay for the broken piece to be fixed, but the original painting was returned to it's rightful home, unharmed. I was so very grateful.
It was during this time that I can markedly say I had the chance to really consider my life, and my priorities. I had been sucked into the dream. I began wondering if I could move up in the art world, eventually working in a high-profile gallery. Maybe I still can (later in life), but those weeks of anxiety and stress made me come to realize that at this time in my life, my primary focus needs to be my children (and my family in general). This season of life is so short, and while it's awesome to learn new things and advance my career, that's not where my heart was or is. It's at home, with my family.
I continued to work in the gallery, but made a real point of keeping work at work, and family time at home. Almost to a fault (or so my employer might have thought). During my second summer of working there, I took that second positive pregnancy test, and found out that baby girl was on her way. Once again, I became all-consumed with my pregnancy. I dreamed of baby number two, and what it would be like to mother two children! Though I may not have been as obsessed as I'd been the first go-around, I still joined online support groups, and was very baby-focused! ;) About six months into my pregnancy, right around Christmastime, I was called into the director's office. I knew money had become tighter due to the economy, and that change was in the air. I'd heard rumors, and witnessed the letting go of my dear friend and counter-part, who was the art educator in the studio attached to the gallery.
I was told in that meeting that I could work through March, or until the end of my pregnancy. The Gallery as I knew it would exist no longer. They were merging the gallery with the museum, and would no longer have a need for an art curator. There it was in black and white. It wasn't my decision. A door had closed. I loved this job, but I admittedly had worried about how I would return to work again with an infant at home. As well as who would run the gallery while I was on maternity leave. It was scary, none-the-less, to think about being unemployed. We owned a house with a mortgage. Our mortgage was based on both of our incomes, and my income paid for a lot of our extras...even the groceries!
I wasn't the only one who was stressed. My poor husband was reeeeally stressed. Usually, the financial burden falls on his shoulders and he worried about how we would pay the mortgage, and whether or not we would be able to make it work. The Lord works in mysterious ways, though, and He was working behind the scenes, as usual. His hand is in everything, and I have learned over the years, that when we step back and put our trust in Him, life becomes much easier! ;)
Because of this door closing, I spent five glorious months home with my new baby girl, and my two and a half year old son. It was the most amazingly beautiful spring I can ever remember. I know it was gorgeous, as others attest to this too, but I think another will never compare because I enjoyed each and every day to the fullest. We took daily walks around the neighborhood, we often walked the bike path into town and observed the newness of spring. The magnolias were simply spectacular, and the crabapples were as pink as a sunset. The smell in the air was sweet and my soul was at peace. The Lord had given me a true renewal in spirit, and I was soooo thankful for every moment. This is a time in my life that I will always, always cherish. Maybe the most wonderful time to date. Not stressful, as I assumed it would be, but incredibly peaceful, as I let the Lord take control.
As the summer wore on, it became apparent that I would need to bring in somewhat of an income. What is amazing to me (to this day), is that we were able to continue to scale back, and back, and adjust our budget to meet our needs. The Lord always provided. On a whim, I wrote a letter. My son and I had attended early childhood music education classes since he was a toddler, and we adored them. I had seen him blossom and grow in class, right before my very eyes. I always thought introspectively, how fun it would be to teach these classes. So, I emailed the office staff of the company who's classes we attended. Immediately, they forwarded my letter to the founder and director, who was out of town teaching summer classes at a university. I didn't put much stake in this letter, and I figured it was such a long-shot, that I probably needed to continue to look for a part-time job in other places.
One afternoon in July, my phone rang. It was the director, and we hit it off right away. We decided to meet that weekend in her home--she would fly home for a quick visit, and we could have a formal interview that Saturday afternoon. She is an amazing woman, and I was struck with this right away upon meeting her. She asked me how I found out that they were hiring. I looked at her in disbelief and said, "I didn't know you were looking for instructors, I just prayed, and wrote a letter on a whim, when I felt the timing was right!" We looked at each other and decided in that moment that this must have been a "God thing", and laughed about how awesome our God is! I was hired that day, and have been teaching music classes (very) part-time ever since.
There is still more to this story. The Lord still has work to do, and I am continuing on this journey. I've started a small business making hair accessories for little girls. Once again, an idea that came directly from the Lord, I believe. I'm asking you to join me on this journey, as I see where this new craftiness can take me!!!! Thanks for staying with me this far! Ha! ;) God surely has blessed us, and I am so thankful for the journey He's taken us on and can't wait to see where we go....
More to come!!!
xoxoxo and have a blessed Monday!
Clara Beth Headband
Margaret Headband
Sweet Ellie Clip
