We went to the farmer’s market on Sunday, as we almost always do for bread and a croissant for Maria. Off in the corner, standing by her own table (the market is held inside an old depot in the winter) we saw Sarah Davis, a young woman who has begun making pottery.

Maria saw one of her beautiful cups in the Round House Cafe earlier in the week and she bought it, and here she was Sunday she was standing at her own table in the market – small towns are like that – and my eye caught this small bumblebee tea cup and I bought it, I was so struck by it’s simplicity and originality.  It cost $23.

It is sitting by my computer, it  my cup now.

I watched Sarah for a few minutes as Maria bought some vegetables, and I was reminded of the bravery of creatives, especially young creatives. I think of all these artists, writers, poets, quilters, pottery makers.

They sit in tents and behind folding tables and chairs, one person after another walks by, one person after another stops to look and then moves on. It takes strength and bravery and determination to make it as a creative. She seemed very patient to me, smiling at everyone, waiting.

Most of the time, creative people at tables are ignored and rejected. Sometimes things break their way and their work catches on, or draws people. Mostly, not.

Some have crackers or jam for people to sample (Sarah had Maple Cream.) Maria loved Sarah’s pottery so much she invited her to sell her work at our next Open House in October of 2018.

The cup is not only graceful and appealing, the smaller size is great for me, as I rarely finish a cup of tea, and it stays warmer longer.

But mostly, i wanted to write this in honor of people like Sarah who take the plunge, and share their work and open themselves up to a wonderful life full of rejection and challenge and endless waiting,  and above all, a deep faith that they have something to offer.

Creative young people often ask me if they should get a day job, as their parent and counselors warn them they should do. I always say no, don’t get a day job. After a few years, you’ll never go back to the insecure and unpredictable life of the artist.

Don’t give yourself a comfortable out, go for it. That’s the advice I give if asked.

It is very difficult to do what Sarah Davis is doing and next week, I hope to go back to the market and take her photo, if she permits me. I admire her work, and I admire here. I hope she doesn’t get a day job, and has no choice but to make wonderful art and live her life.