I’m opening an Etsy shop.
Because everyone knows an Etsy shop is the sure-fire way to get the $300 million I dreamed I had last week.
Three hundred million USD. Not three hundred—which is more like it. Not three million—which would be very nice, thank you.
THREE HUNDRED MILLION FREAKIN’ DOLLARS.
And it was all mine, she sez, rubbing her greedy little hands together. All mine!
The best part of it wasn’t being wicked rich. It was the complete absence of lack. The complete absence of wanting. The ability to do whatever I wanted (mostly good)
I paid off mortgages. Educated kids. Gave money to people I love and causes I care about. Drank expensive wine. And I don’t even drink.
I even contemplated buying furniture for the new house. Furniture that comes already assembled. Imagine that.
Then I woke up and realized it was a dream, that all those zeros at the end of the three did not belong to me
I was okay with that because that feeling of having enough stayed with me.
And inspired me to launch a side hustle.
Welcome to My Etsy Shop, Wee Obsessions
Let me be clear: this isn’t my fine art. Not by a long shot.
Wee Obsessions is MERCH. Gift stuff. A deliberately commercial experiment.
And very much a work in progress.
The doors are open. But I’m still stocking the shelves, adding designs and figuring out what the heck I’m doing.
And now for the elephant in the room (effelfant as my dear nephew used to say)
I’m also using AI. There. I said it.
And yes, the featured photo is AI-generated and art directed by me. I haven’t looked this good in years. So is the shop banner but you probably figured that out.
Some designs start with my own artwork—figures, flowers and other imagery I’m taking in new directions.
Others start entirely in my imagination. Which is considerable.
My Victorian women reading, for instance. I could see their world—the mood, the attitude, the slightly odd women who lived there. AI gave me a way to build it, but I had to art direct.
Which isn’t as easy as it sounds. It’s not snap my fingers and get the perfect image. It’s more like why don’t you understand what I’m asking for you dumb-ass faceless code??? (Oh please don’t read this GPT, my love, and get mad at me! I only said it for the laughs. Because comedy is cheap and you don’t have a heart anyway.)
Then I get up and walk the dogs. Or eat something. And when I come back we do it again until it comes out right.
Besides the Victorian ladies, there’s Courting the Muse stuff—bits of creative wisdom and wiseassery escaping the blog and landing on mugs and whatever else strikes my fancy.
What I Didn’t Expect From My Etsy Store
This little commercial experiment has lit a fire under my creativity. Seriously.
One idea leads to another. Old artwork suddenly suggests something new. Words become images. Images send me somewhere else entirely.
It isn’t replacing my creativity. It’s provoking it.
Provoking it to the point where I’m staying up late, resenting cooking dinner for the masses, working my butt off and loving every minute of it. My inner squirrel was having a field day.
Enough Means Room
Which brings me back to that imaginary $300 million.
What I loved wasn’t really the money.(Bullshit. Liar liar pants on fire it was the money)
It was the room.(Yeah, that too, she sez, not wanting to sound like a sore loser)
Room to be generous. Room to imagine. Room to play.
That’s what creativity needs, too. Room. And the permission to use it.
Not more stuff. Not more skill. Not even more time.
Room to ask: What if?
What if I try this?
What if I make something completely different?
What if I wander outside my lane and see what’s over there?
Maybe enough isn’t the finish line.
Maybe it’s simply solid ground with enough elbow room to wonder:
What else could I make?
(Three hundred million from my Etsy shop!)
This Week’s Creative Prompt
Give yourself 20 minutes of creative room.
Take something you normally do one way—and mess with it.
Change the tool. The scale. The material. Add something. Take something away. Start with something old and send it somewhere new.
Ask:
What if I did this instead?
Then follow it.
The Muse loves a little elbow room.
