The beginning of a story
After a long time not able to write anything, here I finally come back to start a new blog, somewhere to put down the perhaps meaningless words, and record some thoughts over things...
Like everything else, it need to start from somewhere. So I'd start with things about Iglootree the book shop.
I have always wanted a little bookshop, like a lot of people. Having a chill afternoon, drinking a cup of coffee while reading a book. In an alleyway somewhere quiet and green. Behind the shop would be a little river, some ducks swam by time by time. The sun set with warm rays shine through the window, leaving the dark shadow behind the heave wooden shelves, together with some secret in the books. Outside the window just gentle breeze shaking the leaves, a few birds would sing to each other before they go to bed. No customers? What was I thinking? How do I run a shop with no customers and just sit there all by myself? Not like a dream, more sounds like a loud joke.
And now, I have a shop. As you can see, not exactly as how I imagined.
Iglootree started during the pandemic. I never thought it would come true that quickly, and lack of job pushed this idea through. I adopted the brand with a nick name and my own name created decades ago when I was in University. It's a very personal touch. With Dan's help, everything started quickly, and expanded fast with his Melsonian's audience.
Lucy maybe, but also little by little, it comes to reality that running a shop as the only job, wouldn't be enough to feed myself. The dream of sitting in an empty shop and just chill seems fading away, and with the publishing work and some design work, I found myself buried under mountains of tasks. Unfinished jobs, delayed plans, and perhaps some never coming out personal projects. Making enough money to pay bills is becoming my major goal. Other than sitting and chill, I got sitting and stick my seat.
Not complaining by the way. I still feel lucky to have what I have now, especially after years of struggling for independence and freedom, I can't appreciate more than enough. But is this what I really wanted? There are so many more things I'd like to do, but I'm only one human being, seems a bit too ambitious, especially not a very clever one. The fear builds up quickly, with worries of lack of achievement, or numerous of failed little tries. I gave up some of the so called hobbies, feeling lack of talent on certain subjects, yet not resigned to leave it behind, picked it up again, then struggle a bit, maybe do it slightly better than last time I tried, then dropped it when I hit a rock, then repeat...
Last autumn, being pushed again on a few different reasons, we made up the mind to rent a physical shop. Mixed with excitement and anxious, we rushed into it. To save money, I turned the whole fit out into another physical DIY project. Only this time I knew it wouldn't be a finished project until a long time after - the opening day is not the deadline for this one.
The little book shop is not in front of a river, it's not in an alleyway,it doesn't have warm sunset, just often raining in the dark. Instead of singing birds, we got heavy traffic running outside. I do drink coffee at the till, instead of chill and reading a book, I just do all kinds of work, mostly not creative related. Doing drawing while sitting behind the till is a treat. And of course, eyes longing the door and begging customers so we can pay bills. It's as quiet as I wished, but not how I wished it would like now. Somehow, the reality of having a little book shop is coming true, exciting, scary, and different.
Dan and Andrew suggested that running games in the shop would be great, I was terrified. ( Another story to tell at another time ) Soon, I turned my opinion and decided it was a brilliant idea. And also in the new year, I decided to run some art classes - something at least I can do, to make the basement more useful, and also hoping to cover the bills for the extra storage we are renting now...The snowball is getting bigger, and it's just keep rolling. I can only push and follow along...But at least, I can still see the other side of this snowball, hoping it won't fall off the cliff.
As things are keep going kind of alright, I'm back on my dropped hobbies. Creative shouldn't be driven by money, which I feel it would only end up in a black hole of desire. Creative should be fun, and enjoyable. If any benefit comes along with it, that would be a nice surprise, but it really shouldn't be the main and only purpose. As said, may my hobbies of these things bring me happiness and joy, and hopefully, it will full of surprises.
Until next time