Making my own magic: my first maker’s market as an artist
If I could show the younger me this now, she wouldn't believe it.
There’s so much that went into the moments leading up to the Bushwick Maker’s Market. I didn’t have a full idea when I saw Nina post her call for makers to join, but this feeling stirred inside of me to just say, “yes.” Have I ever sold my paintings? Nope. Have I done any print work in a while? Kind of. Does anyone even care or want my art? Literally no idea. But why not? Why not try? Why not say yes and figure it out along the way?
And, what a perfect opportunity to practice asking for help. I asked my friend Dan if he could take photos of my paintings. When the day arrived, he forgot his camera (I mean, it happens), but somehow our friend Kimmy happened to bring her camera and lenses. When I returned back to California to visit friends and family, instead of spinning in circles trying to figure out how to print my art prints, I reached out to my friend Tiffany, who recommended a local print shop…and she also drove me to pick up the prints in person. And the endless times all my friends have listened to me crash out trying to figure out all the details and wondering, am I crazy? Am I delusional for trying to do something that maybe literally no one cares about?
But that was it. It didn’t matter if no one else cared. I cared.
I wanted to show up for myself. The Leslie, at 28, who cried her heart out because 2021 was one of the hardest years of my life. My Saturn return was at full force. I lost people I loved deeply in my life; I lost my sense of identity; I was lost figuring out what community meant. Painting came at a time when I needed to slow down, to relearn what it meant to be present, and to allow the voices in my head for perfection to turn into curiosity…to pure practice. The specific paintings of memories came from a practice of not wanting to relive something, not to hold on tightly, but to honor a memory as it was: something beautiful, plain, heartwrenching, or just is. Just a memory that I want to keep.
These past few months reminded me that so much of my life can be lived by making my own magic. There are so many parts of life that are beyond our control. But when we actively decide and say, “I want this. I will do it. I’m going to make it happen.” Magic truly happens.
Magic truly happened on the day of the market. Right before the market opened, I got a call from a friend who was at the hospital, saying she couldn’t make it and she was sorry but proud of me. I couldn’t believe my friend, who had absolutely every valid reason not to show up, still wanted me to feel encouraged.
When I made my first sale, Mel aka @dumpster.vermin, who was vending to my right, congratulated me and was so excited for my next sale. The friends who sat down to write letters to their loved ones reminded me exactly why I offer send love kits… to make it easier to say what’s on our minds and in our hearts to the people we love, in a deep, intentional, and present way.
Brian, our incredible DJ of the afternoon, also so sweetly jumped on a chair after our market ended and gave a big shout-out to thank everyone for their hard work, to thank Nina for creating the experience, and for all of us showing up for each other and our community.
And my friend Emma took care of me by sending over a Venmo reminder to treat myself to dinner after the market.
The list of magic is endless.
And so is my gratitude. To Nina, who decided to show up to my get-lost (& send love) event back in March, which has led us to collaborate on this market together (and, obviously, our friendship since). To my vendor row mates (Brian, Mel, and Will), other vendors and friends who took the time to check in and connect over what we loved doing (Mistik, Cole), and more folks I didn’t get to talk to. And friends who showed up in every form: in person, a DM, a phone call, a “can I please order your cards and pick it up next time” message, and reminders that I am loved. I am grateful.
It’s been a week since the market, and I’ve been sitting with so many feelings. I accomplished my first market. I made my first in-person sale. And then I made my first stranger on the internet decided to purchase an art print from Etsy sale (like oh my god what?!?).
For me, it wasn’t ever about attaching monetary value to my paintings to give value to my art or that of being an artist. What I realized in this process was that it was me, making my own magic, to embrace myself as an artist. And that it’s been nourishing for my soul, for the little Leslie who once wrote she wanted to become an artist when she grows up, to the 28 year old Leslie who knew heartbreak and grief is something we learn to grow with but needed to cry everything she had out and luckily a little into the paintings (figuratively) to make memories into something we can share with love.
I am grateful.
Share the love. Get your own painted memories art prints at www.liftandlost.etsy.com. For August - September 2026, I’ll be donating 10% of sales to Brooklyn Book Bodega, whose mission is to increase the number of 100+ book homes for kids 0-18 in NYC.
I’d also love to invite you, if you’re in NYC, to come join get lost (& craft) on Sunday August 16, which I’ll be co-hosting with my friend Sahi (a true veteran guest who’s been to so many of my events), to provide space, materials, and snacks if you’d like to spend a Sunday morning crafting together. Yes, send love kits will be included. Grab your ticket: https://luma.com/r9drasxa
I’d love to hear from you. What’s something you’ve done lately to make your own magic?