The two art happenings that I had squeezed into one week are now over.  Time to rest, revive, and start again.

Funny how events occur within a short timespan, and then there's nothing, nada, kaput, for a long stretch. I've learned over the years to be patient.  Puzzle pieces eventually fall into place.

In the 1980's, I subscribed to a wonderful publication called Parallelogramme.  Printed on cheap paper, it listed "call for entries" for non-profit galleries and disseminated other important information to artists.  I'd curl up on the sofa, slowly peruse this practical resource, and enjoy it like a fine meal.  

Finding opportunities today involves search engines and social media.  At times, I come upon so much material in one sitting that I have to park myself at the computer for an entire day in order to identify where my work might fit.  My left shoulder throbs at the mere thought of staring at my monitor for hours, and hours, and hours.  

Filtering and determining who isn't trying to siphon money out of me also takes a lot of time. Application fees run riot. If I were to pay (usually in U.S. funds) for every interesting possibility, I would be flat broke in a heartbeat. 

I'm one in a million people on the globe applying right?  It's exhausting.

Every once in a while I give it a go, spend hours if not days getting a dossier ready, all the while telling myself that "you never win the lottery if you don't buy a ticket".  In all fairness to the system, I have won on some occasions.  

But what tends to work best to grow a career is networking, making connections and building relationships within artistic communities.  

This is not easy terrain for introverts.  
It's comfy on the sofa.