When I thought I’d lost my little shop it felt like a death. An inevitable expected death like that of an old dog, but still a cruel shock. One of those deaths where people say, Ah well, she had a good innings, and all you can think is, No no NO, I’m not ready, I want MORE innings. And when people looked at me and tilted their heads in sympathy it was because somehow they knew that this was the way it must be. And all I could do was wish I felt stronger so I could scream and rant and stamp my feet at the very least.
I was not ready to lose my little shop.
So instead I decided to put it on ice. Freeze it over the Winter and look again in the Spring.
As it turns out I will be having a Little Art Show at the shop a year to the day from having a lovely operation to remove some lymph nodes and a lump in my breast. I say lovely because I’ve never been to hospital before and I got to stay overnight with very kind people and someone brought me breakfast in bed. There was no pain and I felt so relieved. The cancer was gone. Chemo- and Radiotherapy to come. But what a difference a year makes. In February I danced for the first time in 12 months at my nephew’s wedding. I’m a clumsy, enthusiastic dancer and I love the way it makes me feel. But for a year I have not had the luxury of energy to ‘waste’.
So: I am changed. I have a different take on the useful time I have left on the planet. It’s a real opportunity to consciously build the life I would like. I have a whole lot less energy to go round now and for 2020 I’m focussing on making a success of my little shop. Not by opening every day, but by opening once every 60 days, and by showing things you cannot see anywhere else.
Love the little things. That’s what Mr Mustard says. It’s good advice but it’s not exactly ground breaking. And with a little shop and an imaginary friend we’re not going to change the world. But hopefully we are going to introduce a bit more joy into the proceedings. I have a feeling that this year could be a wonderful one.
I was visiting Poland last October ,my husband’s relative that we were meeting for the first time. We are from North Dakota USA . They own a hotel in Karwia. They were showing us around and as we walked through a hallway my sister in law and I noticed a couple of prints on the wall that we could not take our eyes off of. I took a picture and when we got back to the USA began trying to find out who this artist was (with the glare of the glass over the print and my poor photo taking skills I couldn’t make the name out). Finally my daughter taught me how to use Google to help me and there you were! I am so in love with your work. I am equally in love with your writing! I love your story and can relate to many things you describe-the creativity, the depression, need for alone time (which I have very little of-6 children + in-law children + 14 grandchildren + 1 new great grandchild) , the staring at the walls 🙂 , etc…. Thank you for your beautiful art. I am currently trying to find where to buy some prints. I’m sending my best wishes to you in your health recovery, to your “new normal”, to your energy and to Mr. Mustard.
Sincerely and with love,
Christy Byzewski
So pleased you are retaining your little shop. I plan to come down to one of the Art Shows (hopefully May). I love your work and have followed your journey on Facebook and Instagram, you have been so positive through what was very difficult time. I too have had breast cancer and had an op but only needed radiotherapy. I can only imagine the discomfort of undergoing chemo must have been. But you are a year on with a new zest for life. Maybe not a change you wanted but I’m certain life will be good for your from now on. New website, new merchandise, new adventure 🙂
Dear Sam, I’m so pleased you’re back from where you didn’t want to go in the first place. I’m sure my favourite Mr Mustard is still and always will make people who have got to know him feel very happy. My picture is Mr Mustard, walking with his bike up to the very british red telephone box “Dialling out for Pizza”. I remember having a chat with your Mum on the phone about my Mr Mustard picture, and she told me of your love for dogs and artwork. I want to visit your shop in Hove early December to see your latest artwork and hopefully be lucky enough to own another something special you have created. Life must have been so tough for you during those dark days but you took up the challenge and you did it!! WOW, I have so much respect for what you have achieved Sam and hope you can continue with the strenght needed to carry on. Warm wishes
Sam when I walk up stairs, I have several of your pictures facing me, they all have a special meaning for me, all relating to me and Ben we used to have a tandem. And loved being near the sea.We came to one of your exhibitions at pall mall , which I loved. Unfortunately he died two weeks ago the up side is I only have the most lovely memories, we were together for 58 yrs, a lovely man. It seems that all we have left at the end of it all all we have left is memories, so better make good ones , I wish you well, I do admire your positive attitude , you are a very talented lady, to think that your art is appreciated in so many countries. Jeanx
Good luck with whatever you choose to do Sam, I know you will be a success. I will continue to watch and follow your adventures. With love and best wishes from up the road in Portsmouth x