We’re getting closer to starting sales, and yesterday, that brought up a small down side to creating and selling (for us, at least).
I’ve been reorganizing, marking, and numbering the Pixictoowoos we have ready for sale, as well as repairing a few that will never be sold. Last night I showed Cherif my progress, with all the little PixiCs in rows in their storage box, all numbered and painted and ready for packing. He opened the lid, looked at all of them, pet one, and closed it with a sigh.
“You don’t really want to sell them, do you?” I asked.
He replied, “Not really, no.”
Therein lies the challenge. A lot of effort and love goes into our all of our pieces, but the critters are a little different. They have character, and personalities, and little quirks that make each of them unique and endearing. They proliferate rather quickly; since the very first one in 2006, Cherif has made more than sixty over the years. We love all of them, and have a real hard time letting them go sometimes, even as gifts.
But we can’t keep them all, and most of the folks near and dear to us already have one or two or five of our little creations and adore them. We kept the very first one and keep (and repair) all the ones that break before they leave us, but we’re not going to stop making these delightful little horrors, meaning the rest need homes. So we photograph all of them, sell them, pray they make it to their new people safely, and hope that they’re loved.
Sure is hard, tho’.
The original PixiCtoowoo, who lives on Cherif’s desk.
May Redwing be with you always.
- Rebecca
