Tag Archives: discouragement

I Started an Etsy Shop!

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art drawerThe idea to sell my artwork and some of my other creative projects through Etsy has been in my head for over a year. But I immediately faced discouragement when I first began vocalizing it, so I mostly shoved the thought away.

In November, however, I was given an opportunity that I so wanted to take hold of. It was going to cost more money than I had (or would have any time in the near future), but I had such a desire for it that I was ready to start taking the idea of an Etsy shop seriously and see if I could raise funds that way. I began to research, ask friends who had experience, and work on what I was going to be selling.

But because my situation is unique (living with my family and working on creative pursuits from home, with no income to speak of), I faced a lot of setbacks during the process. Starting a business was intimidating. Okay: it was terrifying. I was determined to push through the fear, but running into roadblock after roadblock was becoming more spirit-crushing with every instance. And when the opportunity that had spurred me to start working on this in the first place fell through… I just kind of left everything alone. I didn’t intend to give up. But I did give up.

When I had been working to build the business and began facing discouragement, the Lord had been so clearly and openly supportive of me. He pointed me to the story of the Eiffel Tower; when it was being built, the art community in Paris was circulating a petition to stop the work, claiming it would be an ugly mark on a beautiful area in the city. The builders continued anyway, and created a piece of artwork so widely loved that it has become an icon. He told me this story, and encouraged me to keep building. I wanted to listen. For a while, I did. But eventually I let the discouragement get to me.

Lately I have been revisiting some of our conversations from that season, and seeing what He said and didn’t say… and what I did and didn’t do. Etsy was something He said was good. And something I have ignored. I don’t want that to be the case anymore.

Last week– I opened my Etsy shop. Tessa Maye Makes Things is alive.

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I know I will face challenges. But I will face them, as they come, instead of letting them cripple me or keep me from something that could be good. I am nervous. But when I put the final piece of information in and saw my shop go live for the first time? I took a deep breath. I felt relieved, and I felt hopeful. I’m not going to ignore that.

If you want to check out my artwork/projects, feel free to visit the shop! I am brainstorming more ideas for it already. But, if nothing else, I want to urge you: that thing that still invades your mind sometimes? That He placed a desire for in you? That maybe He’s even told you He’d support you in?

Keep building.

On Making Art I Hate

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The longer I’m alive and the more I create, I am beginning to see that I’ll never make art I like unless I keep making art I hate.DSC01456

I don’t know if I’ve ever hated something I’ve made, but it has sometimes been difficult to have a glorious image of what it will look or sound like in my mind, only to fall short in being able to make that with my own limited hands. I think that’s the hardest part. The piece might not be terrible, but it isn’t what I wanted it to be. So, to me, it is terrible, because it’s a tangible reminder that I fall short.

For a long time, I let that feeling discourage me from making anything.

I would cut up magazine pages to make flowers because I had unused creative passion in me, but I didn’t want to paint, and I definitely didn’t want to try penning any lyrics. There are so many gifted artists in this world, in my own life, even, and it’s sometimes hard to believe that I have something worth listening to when there are a lot of people who could express it better than I can. Some already have. And I just don’t know where what I make fits into all these voices.

I’ve realized it’s okay if multiple voices speak the same thing.

A few unfinished paintings have been sitting around my easel for a while, shoved under a tablet of watercolor paper, me being completely uninspired to do anything more with them. But the past two days, two friends have visited my house. One painted with me as we watched a Spiderman movie, and told me as she looked around my nearly covered walls that she was getting inspired; the other asked about my art and what it meant, telling me she loved all of it. I didn’t know I needed to hear those things, but oh I needed to. Something in me just clicked into place, and I just keep making things. I just keep asking for inspiration, and finding it, because I’m looking. And because I say yes to using it.

I often fall into telling my soul, “Someone else will write a brilliant verse about that;” “Someone else would be able to portray that wondrously;” “I’m excited to see that when someone else makes it.” And over time, I’ve grown tired of hearing it. I’ve been choosing to just try, even if I won’t do as well as I think someone else might in making that thing the best it can be. If the inspiration happened inside me, who else can I ask to create it? Only the Lord and I get to see it when it stays walled up. And that is one of the biggest reasons I keep trying.

Yesterday, I finished the unfinished things. One had to be cut small and pasted onto a journal page. One kept wanting more, so I continued to mix colors throughout the day, trying to appease it, until it said, “Hey… maybe now I’m enough.” One was a surprise, starting out as an “I-don’t-want-to-waste-paint-so-let’s-just-smear-it-all-on-this-paper” piece but becoming a garden that made my mouth curve slightly upwards. And one… one just needed to be looked at a while longer, until I decided it was okay. None of them made me particularly excited, but I was so grateful to finally be making something, to finally breathe the rest of the life into the half-made things. And then…

He gave me three song ideas. Three. And I started all of them, and I felt alive again.

Music is my heart’s desire, so much so that it terrifies me and I need the people around me to continuously remind me not to run from it. But I haven’t written lyrics in so long, because there are poets and writers and singers so much more eloquent and gifted than I am. I fear deep in my bones that I am not good enough.

When all I need to do is say yes.

I ran with the inspiration, not away from it. I believed that maybe I can express at least some piece of what I see. And even if nothing became a glorious work, I worked gloriously because I said yes to doing it.

Those finished paintings from yesterday didn’t end up like my hopes for them; they weren’t wonderful. But because I had enough in me to say yes to making them, I said yes to the next inspiration, too. I spent hours on it today.

And I really, really like it.

I didn’t know if it would capture a bit of what I was seeing inside me. But I was willing to see, to give it a chance. And at the end, I backed away… and I caught a glimpse. My heart fluttered for a moment, and I just sat and stared.

I wouldn’t have this if I didn’t have the good-enoughs.

I wouldn’t be able to create what I love if I didn’t create what I hate sometimes, too.

On Creative Drought & Faith

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I baked cookies in the heat today.bowl of cookie cookies and bowl ovenready cookies

Why? Because I feel completely dry of creative juices.

I have written the same blog post nearly all day for two days now, and I don’t even know if I’ll end up posting it. I’m not passionate about it, I feel like I didn’t convey things the way I wanted to, and I don’t know if anyone else could even benefit from it.

“What’s the point?” my inner critic asks me bitterly.

I sketched out the beginnings of a painting I wanted to work on yesterday. The lines are there now, but I don’t want to fill them in. Because I can’t shut the thought out of my brain that it won’t end up looking the way I want it to look.

“Why would I waste so much time on something that I’ll end up finishing with the words ‘good enough’?” my inner cynic asks, a whisper of sadness in her tone.

I love my friends. I don’t get to see many as often as I used to and I’m trying to cope with that. I’ve been writing letters with a friend back and forth, but it’s been a while now since I’ve received her letter and I still haven’t written back. Because I feel like what I write her has to be uplifting, and I just don’t know if I have the right words.

“Why is it so hard to just make something heartfelt and be happy with that?” I whisper, hugging my legs in my desk chair.

That’s why I made cookies today. I want to– have to– create, but I am terrified that what I make isn’t good enough.

Cookies are easy. As long as they’re golden brown and taste like a cookie, they’re successful. There’s no pressure; I don’t view them as an expression of my soul. They don’t have to be unique, expressive, interesting. But what I write here, what I paint onto a canvas, what I say to someone else… it matters to me. A lot. I want it to be good.

I want to be able to create things that don’t get in the way of what I’m trying to express to you. I want to make something that captures what’s inside me and speaks into your life. And I’m being completely honest with you: I feel like I just can’t. I feel like I don’t have a voice to match my soul. My soul has so much in it, so much I wish I could share. I wish I had that ability. But, today, I don’t feel like I do. There are days like this that are just hard.

This is so hard for me to handle, because creating is what Jesus has asked me to do. I left college because He wanted me to create. I can’t express how weighed down I feel by the thought that I can’t do what He’s asked of me. If I can’t do it, what else can I do? Is anything left?

Phew. I’m sorry. Thank you for listening to my ugly.

I wrote a poem about a month ago when I was feeling like this.

Do you ever feel like you fail before you start?
Because it’s not what you do–
It’s you?
I am telling you, soul: this is your design!
You were created for this.
And the only person who can truly get in your way?
It’s you.
Believe in who you are;
Trust Him who made and is leading you.
There is so much beauty here, and–
It’s you.

And it makes me think maybe I should just keep creating, even in the slough. It’s not my best, but it’s not my worst, and I think I said what I wanted to say through it for the most part. If it helps no one else, it’s helping me.

After I wrote it, I realized that doubting my ability to create was a symptom of doubting the Lord. Knowing He asked me to take some intense risks in order to create, and knowing that all He’s been saying to me lately has been to express and create, what could make me think that I’m not able? This is His will for me. I am on the path I followed Him onto. Nothing is going to stop Him from accomplishing His good purposes, not even if I am lacking. This is His. He is in this. He has strength for my weakness. He has prepared these things in advance for me. I can create expressive, interesting, unique, meaningful art, because He wills it be so.

When I don’t trust that I can do it, it’s an indicator that I don’t fully trust Him. Creating great art seems impossible because I’ve been trying to trust myself for it, and put all my stock in my own abilities. And the truth is–

I don’t have what it takes. I can’t do this alone.

But Jesus?

He can take me there. And He’s told me He will. And when He does, it won’t be because I’m wonderful and talented; it will be because I am swimming in His grace. It is hard to sit back and wait, but it’s even harder when I find that I’m not trusting Him. When I don’t trust Him, I end up not even trusting what He says about me. And He says that I am chosen, royal, holy. He says that He does all He does for my good. He says that I share in suffering in order to become more like Him.

And He says that He loves me. He loves me enough to give up His life for me, to call me His friend, to walk with me every day.

I am growing in believing Him deep in my heart.

I haven’t believed You.
But it’s more than that.
I haven’t believed You because…
Because You believe in me.
And I don’t.

May we have so much faith in you, Lord, that we will have faith in your promises, too. May we seek to glorify you in what we do and may that be enough for us, because it is enough for you. May we feel deep in our souls that you are our reward, and that you understand our depths even when we can’t express them. And may we see an inkling of what you see in us. We love you.