Mood: Mildly Freaking Out | Post Type: Behind the Scenes | Weeks Until Show: 51

After the high of booking my first solo show — the buzz, the excitement, the yes, it’s happening! — came… a shift. I can actually map it out like a timeline:

“I’m having a solo show!” (excited, proud)
“I’m having a solo show.” (calm, processing)
“Oh ****, I’m having a solo show!” (fill in your own swear word here)

Where did that last one come from?

The Maths and the Mayhem

Since I’m already familiar with the gallery space (a definite bonus), I started mapping out how many wall pieces I’d need and what sizes would best fill the space. I worked out a Dartmoor-to-coastal ratio, planned a new wall display for my pendants, and landed on a total of 16 pieces.

And that’s when the creeping dread began.

Real Life Kicks In

Sixteen pieces means more than one a month — and these aren’t quick to make. Some need up to five kiln firings. Add to that the fact I haven’t fully refined my process or style for larger works… and you might understand why my blood pressure was on the rise.

It’s probably also worth saying: being a glass artist isn’t my only job. I compress my day job into four days a week and I’m often away from home. This isn’t self-pity — just reality. The panic wasn’t just whispering anymore, it was starting to shout.

A Lovely Distraction (That Also Adds Pressure)

Then came a mentoring session. A gentle (but pointed) reminder that I needed to decide what to submit for an upcoming group show. That shout? Now a megaphone.

But then — just when it was all feeling like too much — I got the most wonderful email: an invitation to join a long-running show in its final year. It’s invitation-only (!!!) and the curator had seen my work at a Christmas fair. I was thrilled — but paused for 24 hours before replying (experience has taught me not to act on peak excitement).

24 Pieces and Counting

They asked for 8–10 pendants (no problem) and 4–6 wall pieces. So let’s do the maths:

2 (for Nov ’25) + 6 (for Jun ’26) + 16 (for solo show) = 24 wall pieces.
Cue the slap-in-the-face realisation. Overwhelm officially activated.

Then my brain — ever the problem-solver — jumped in with: “If they don’t sell, I can just roll them into the solo show.”
That’s… not quite the plan. At the moment, I don’t rely on my art for income (thanks to my day job), but I do need sales to sustain the making. That said, I’m continuing to build with the hope that, one day, this could become my full-time work.

Planning My Way Out of Panic

If reading this feels exhausting, welcome to my brain. But there’s a positive turn: I’ve since mapped out my best- and worst-case scenarios for the solo show. Even in the lowest outcome, I’ll make sure the gallery still feels considered and full — not sparse.

Below is my current best, middle, and worst-case scenario for the show. I’m genuinely curious to see where I’ll land — and how it compares to what I set out to do:

Best case: 16 pieces
Middle ground: 12 pieces (skipping a few of the smaller alcove sections)
Worst case: 9 pieces — with one side of the gallery used to showcase my process and display fine art prints, rather than just having a box to flick through.

The Only Way Through Is… Artying?

So, the conclusion? I’d better get making… creating… artying? (Surely that’s a verb.)
From this little emotional rollercoaster, one thing is clear: I need a solid plan. So I’ve set myself a deadline — by the end of September, I’ll have sketched out all the planned pieces, including themes, locations, colour palettes and ideas.

Time to get cracking!

The Realisation - When I Started Planning!