Knowing When It’s Time

There’s a saying, “All good things must come to an end.” Well, maybe not all good things, but surely, some. Coming to an end this month is the better part of my French Bulldog art business.

Inspired by so much appreciation of all the illustration I contributed to Just Frenchies magazine, I embarked on a small business on my website, selling French Bulldog cards. As time went on, I expanded to a shop on Etsy, where I’ve sold everyday blank note cards, holiday/Christmas cards, and a journal.

Little by little, I introduced new designs, and gained a small but loyal band of followers who loved and purchased my art. But then … I couldn’t seem to muster the excitement I once had for drawing these adorable dogs. I wanted to, but it wasn’t happening.

There came a point when I realized that I couldn’t see new additions being a reality, and then further on, a kind of guilt every time I’d be in my studio, looking at all the boxes of these lovely cards I’d created. It was time.

For a while now, ideas of something new have been twinkling in my brain. I realize how far I’ve come from the opening of my Etsy shop, and I need something now that sparks my excitement, that will utilize my talents in art, photography, and writing. I don’t have a clear idea of what they will be yet, but it will excite me. And I want it to touch, inspire, and excite others.

But the first step? Let go of what no longer resonates with my heart and make room for what’s to come. THIS is what is exciting me right now – making room for the unknown.

I’m doing that with a 60% off and final sale of all my Frenchie cards (journals, above, will stay). If interested, please stop by in my shop and share in my last hurrah with me.

When Pen and Paper Heal

Journaling is a highly underrated tool in the toolbox of wellness. Do you write daily?

There is something about putting words to your thoughts and emotions that can not only lift your spirits and lighten your mental load for the day ahead, but also provide insight into so much of your life.

Once written down, the words offer us, now or later, a chance to get to know ourselves better, to find ways to heal and become more of who we’d like to be. Journaling is actually pretty powerful.

I’ve been journaling faithfully every morning for decades. There are days when it feels like a much-needed dump of the clutter in my head, but more often, it’s a way for me to sort things out, see where I am and where I’m going.

All you need is a journal or notebook and a pen. What’s to lose?

Ocean Poem

It’s the last hurrah of summer. I rarely share my poetry online, but … here I am.

Ocean

Foam, waves, tripple around my feet
now gloriously raw from the pebbles and shell bits.
White bubbling sea patterns
rushing up cold to catch me
in their beckoning game,
spitting up dares from amidst green breakers
and blended from a cerulean horizon.
Yes, I’m red-raw, but come `round me,
I see you so little, my friend.

© Jeanne Balsam

Being Inspired

Never doubt it; there’s a lot goes into your beloved book getting into the hands of the reader who will cherish it. There’s writing, illustrating, and otherwise creating the book itself, and then promotion and sales.

And here’s one of the great results – at the Tinicum Arts Festival, I sold seventeen books in two hours! How did that happen? First, we have the gorgeous illustration of Stella Mongodi to draw one in. Then, the lovely new cover design, wrapped around a magical story (if I say so myself.) Lastly, we have someone who loves talking to people about her book … me.

All of that sells a book, but I think it’s the last one that “closes a sale.” When I’m talking about reading, writing, how the book came about, etc., it’s not sales — it’s just undeniable enthusiasm. I realize that not everyone is as outgoing as I am, but if the frame can be shifted from the “job” of selling one’s book to the sharing of excitement about it, that makes all the difference.

While Where Do Butterflies Go at Night, 2nd Edition was one of a handful of picture books available, it was a big draw for parents, grandparents, and even teachers looking for something to read to “their” kids. I was thrilled that Butterflies checked off so many boxes of what these lifelong readers sought in a book for little ones, and that was quite inspirational in me wanting to seriously get back to the book waiting on my desk.

My major purchase at the festival? a pair of earrings with the traditional Japanese Maneki Neko, literally, Beckoning Cat (or lucky cat), which is a symbol of good luck for its owner. I’m grateful for all the help I can get!

Is luck involved in selling our books? Maybe, but I think a genuine appreciation of our own talents, what we’ve accomplished, and the enjoyment of sharing that with others goes pretty far.

Find more photos of the 2025 Tinicum Arts Festival here.

Tinicum – the Difference of A Year

I am very grateful to be invited to be at the Tinicum Arts Festival Author’s Table again this year. I was first invited to participate in July 2022, a month before my book was even released. I had a lighted canvas made up, bookmarks, and handouts to encourage book sales the following month. My wings, of course. And one lone sample book marked “Please do not remove”. It was all I would have for a while.

I loved chatting about my book with all who stopped by, as I did again in 2023. But 2024, invited once more, was a bit of a different story.

Last year’s event was preceded by four months of Jazzy’s slow fall into increasing neurological issues that could not be identified through endless amounts of tests. This culminated in my needing to say my last goodbye to her on the Friday right before my Sunday appearance at the arts festival.

I didn’t want to go. Didn’t know how I could possibly face discussing anything, even my book, with strangers considering the loss of this small, steadfast companion I’d adopted at three, and known and loved for eleven years.

But I went. It was a wonderful distraction. For an hour or so, I lost myself in talking about my book with so many lovely people. When my time was up, I wandered among the vendors, and found these:

No sooner had I paid, than the sky blackened and thunder rumbled in the west. I gathered my book-ish things and made a run for the car, sitting there for 15 minutes in a torrential downpour.

Jazzy was a very opinionated girl. Perhaps she left me with a small token of her love and a farewell to remember.

But the Tinicum Arts Festival … I am completely looking forward to greeting folks, signing books, and talking about writing, butterflies, art, and more on Saturday, July 12th. Please stop by if you’re in the area.