SMELLS LIKE DOG PEE: Finding Hope (and Humor!) in the Ugly

There are people in the world who want to take you down. Don’t let them.

As the holiday season swirls around us, I find myself in alternating waves of joy and despair, lifted by appreciative hosts and customers, and devastated by the casual cruelty of my fellow makers.

Two incidents to illustrate:

I did a small maker show for a prestigious organization that unfortunately was not well attended. That was fine, it happens.

Another maker circled my set-up, someone I’ve encountered before. The pattern goes like this: They let me know they know my work and my writing, and are somewhat flattering. They approach with accolades, which soon turn into “Can you help me with x?” (which I am a sucker for, because I love helping people move forward with their dreams). This quickly declines into push-back (“Let me show you how I am more successful than you!”) on their part.

I see this from time to time, and I know it’s time to simply retreat with no engagement. But then there was the sucker punch.

The person approached me again at the very end of the event, and said, “Do you own a dog?”

I laughed and replied, “Why, yes, I do! How could you tell? Do I have dog hair on my clothes?”

They said, “You smell like dog pee.”

Uh. Oh. Stunned silence on my part.

They continued, “I have a very sensitive nose.”

I stammered a reply, noting that one visitor had brought anxious dogs to the event, and perhaps that is what they smelled. But I know exactly what was going on. (Put a pin here. Next incident!)

Second incident: Someone on social media found a series of articles my blog about display and marketing advice for artists, and shared it with a group. There were many responses from people who appreciated what I’d written, and how helpful they’d found it. I thanked everyone for their kind comments. Until I got the last one:

“Too bad she doesn’t have any photos on her blog.”

Wha….?

Let’s set aside the obvious: When I wrote that series over a decade ago, digital photos were a lot harder to take, almost impossible to edit, and tricky to upload. In fact, the original host site didn’t even have the ability to host images.

A book I quoted in the series, WHY WE BUY by Paco Underhill, featuring the best research on what physically/mentally keeps people from buying had no illustrations.

And most of the issues involved in “turning people off” while shopping are not easily discernible in photos. They are deeply-rooted, near-instinctive reactions, common to all humans. They were only discovered by actively observing customer behaviors in situ, and then going back to examine the environment.

But my biggest irk?

Why would you complain or criticize a resource that’s valuable–and FREE?

My favorite quip when someone argues with my articles is, “I will happily refund every penny you paid for it.”

So what’s going on here? It’s the nibblers again.

In 1984, a remarkable woman named Kaleel Jamison, a pioneer for resolving issues of gender, race, and color in the workplace, wrote an amazing book called The Nibble Theory. It changed my life.

It is a short, simple, compassionate account of why some people seek to tear us down by “nibbling” away at our self-esteem. It is a powerful, restorative work that helped me heal from the tiny slashes and gashes some people inflict on others. I urge you to find a copy. It will take you no more than an hour or two to read. And then share it with someone else who needs its wisdom!

Even though these small yet thoughtless attacks hurt, once you understand where they come from, it’s easier to let go.

It also helps to find the good, the funny, the helpful. I told one person about the dog pee remark. She picked up a rolling pin and said, “I would have told her she had a 5-second headstart before I responded in kind.” (“Kind” being ironic.) I would never even try that, but it made me last.

Another person suggested, “Let me tell you where you can put your ‘sensitive nose’!”

What I wish I’d said? “I wish you had a sensitive heart.”

Another person, a store owner highly respected in our city, a staunch supporter of artists and their work, who has amazing employees who work hard to connect my work with collectors, shared their own slightly toxic encounter that week. Which also helped, because….

It made me recall the blessings of that show.

I told the store owner how their name had come up multiple times in my conversations with the other makers. (The fun part of a slow show: You get to yak!) Everyone….everyone…sang his praises, and I told him that. “You are highly-respected and loved in our art community, your store is beautiful, our work is well-represented, and your employees are amazing! You are doing it right!”

I recalled the vendor who shared a simple yet effective display idea that would work well for these small, intimate events. I remembered I thought up a way to engage a larger, younger audience for these events by coordinating an integrated social media campaign with other artists, other venues/galleries/stores, and other art organizations. I pitched another art garage sale proposal, which the other vendors loved. I chatted with employees with the organization that sponsored the event, and learned more about their own creative work, and their own hopes and dreams for their art. We had a delightful conversation about our favorite foods from Trader Joe’s, and I bought some fun holiday gifts from the other vendors.

So, laughter, support, comraderie, and future projects. All good stuff!

And I remembered that the one slightly-disgruntled comment on my lack of blog images was preceded by a chorus of gratitude and appreciation from other makers.

So when you encounter nibblers, go for the light. As Michele Obama said, “When they go low, we go high.” Turn the negative into something positive, and shiny. Be a force for good in the universe.

And my final chuckle?

That evening, I went to bed and woke up one of our dogs who was deeply, deeply asleep on our bed. So deeply asleep that when I roused him and asked him if he had to go outside to pee, he obliged by urinating on our bed.

So there I was at 11p.m., stripping and remaking the bed, spraying odor-eater on bedding, and doing laundry.

And chortling to Jon along the way, “So that remark wasn’t a slam, it was a prophecy!”

P.S. You can find the forementioned series on booth design here (free!), and you can also purchase the eBook here (a paltry $5, and no, I will not refund your money if you don’t like it. Be forewarned!

P.P.S. In creating links to resources here, I discovered there is a new, updated version of Why We Buy, to include internet sales and such. I just book a copy! That’s the version I linked to above, too.