Chasing Cheese: What Being an Artist Taught Me About Adaptation

The Story of the Mice and the Cheese

Have you ever heard the story Who Moved My Cheese? (I’m not even sure I have the title exactly right, but you get the idea.) It’s about two mice navigating a maze in search of cheese. Every day, the scientists put the cheese in the same spot, and the mice run through the maze and eat it.

Then one day, the cheese is gone. The mice retrace the same steps that always worked, but no luck—no cheese. Finally, one of the mice tries a different path and finds it. The other mouse refuses to try anything new and keeps coming up empty.

The moral is simple: to keep finding the cheese, you have to be willing to adapt.

Being an Artist Feels the Same

Every day, as an artist, I feel a lot like that mouse. The “cheese”—the designs that sell well, the trends that resonate, the pieces people get excited about—keeps moving. One day a style is hot. The next day, tastes shift.

Right now, social media algorithms are a huge issue for me. I used to get far more views—and therefore more people visiting my website. It’s not the vanity metric that stresses me; it’s that fewer views mean fewer eyes on my work. It feels a lot like showing up to a show, setting up your booth beautifully, and then discovering it’s been placed behind a giant obstacle—like a porta potty. You’re there, you’ve put in the effort, but no one can actually see you.

And did you know mailing lists use algorithms too? Getting people to sign up is only part of the battle. Getting the algorithm to actually deliver my emails to everyone on my list is a whole other challenge.

You’d think that if someone follows you or joins your mailing list, the universe would say, “Hey, this person is interested in what you do—let’s show them your stuff!” But no. Instead, there’s this whole invisible set of hoops to jump through. And not only are the hoops invisible—they’re on fire and constantly moving. Careful not to get burned trying to jump through them! I mean seriously, I knew algorithms controlled what people see on social media, but emails too? Sending out an email blast isn’t nearly as simple as it sounds. Just because someone signs up doesn’t mean the email actually lands in their inbox… and I have no idea how or why. Yet somehow, despite all that filtering, I keep getting the same junk emails in my inbox no matter how many times I unsubscribe.

Who knew that when I started this 25 years ago, I’d not only know the word algorithm, but have it become so annoyingly present in so many areas of my life? There are so many variables at this point that sometimes I forget which cheese is stressing me out, lol.

The Ironies of Creative Life

Sometimes I make something simply because I like it. Just thinking, “Hey, this is cool! I like it!” is almost always the kiss of death. And if I think, “Oh yeah, I’ll make a bunch of these because I’m afraid they’ll sell out and I won’t have any left,” they inevitably never sell, lol. It’s a real thing—creative life is full of these little ironies.

But here’s the thing that brings me back to the cheese: I can wait it out to see if people eventually catch on (I mean, come on, I have cool taste), or I can take the pieces back to the bench and rework them into something that everyone else loves too.

When the Cheese Isn’t Just Metaphorical: The Cost of Silver

And speaking of moving cheese, let’s talk about silver. The cost of silver has quite literally doubled over the span of this year. And while silver is obviously not in the same universe as gold price-wise, the percentage increase has hit silver even harder. When you look at the numbers, it’s wild.

I’ve held off on raising my prices for as long as I possibly could, watching silver climb higher and higher. But now, as I reorder materials for next year, reality has stepped in. My current pricing just isn’t sustainable anymore. So I’m finally ready to admit it: I need to adjust my prices to reflect the actual cost of silver today. It’s not the part of the job I love, but it’s part of the chase—and part of keeping my little studio going.

And yes… I know pricing can be a sensitive topic. I’ve heard the comments at shows before, and I get it—handmade work is an investment. But the truth is, the materials I rely on have risen dramatically—quite literally doubled, and I can’t continue creating one-of-a-kind pieces while pretending nothing has changed. To keep doing what I love—and to keep my studio running—I need to adjust. My goal is always to price my work as fairly and thoughtfully as possible while honoring the time, skill, and materials that go into every piece.

The Trickiest Twist in the Maze

And then there are the show rejections—the biggest kink in the maze. Every year, we art-show artists start completely from scratch, applying to shows and casting a wide net to shape our schedules for the coming year. Now, I am not a gambling kind of gal, so the fact that my entire livelihood depends on rolling the dice every year is absolutely bonkers to anyone who knows me. It’s a sort of masochistic way to earn a living. Juries and tastes change, and a panel of strangers with varying levels of knowledge and preferences judges thousands of artists for very few spots—especially in jewelry, which is the most competitive category because there are far more applicants, and the vast majority are talented and qualified.

It’s one part of this business I truly loathe. Most shows require new images every few years, so I might have figured out a magical set of photos that got me into a whole bunch of shows—only to change them the next year and get rejected across the board. One year, I think it was right before Covid, I was waitlisted almost straight across the board. It is incredibly stressful not knowing which shows I’ll be exhibiting at. I’ve sat on several juries myself, so I understand logically that the process isn’t personal—but the sting of rejection and the fear for my livelihood are very, very real.

Can you imagine having to reapply for your job—competing against thousands of hungry, talented applicants—every single year for the rest of your career? Because that’s exactly what it feels like.

Learning to Love (or at Least Tolerate) the Chase

Like that clever little mouse, I’ve learned to keep exploring, experimenting, and trying new paths. The cheese may move, but the joy of creating, discovering new ideas, and connecting with people is what keeps me going.

Being an artist means chasing the ever-changing cheese every single day—and learning to love the chase itself (or at least tolerate it). And look at me now: writing a whole blog about it, lol. The cheese keeps moving, the algorithms keep shifting, the rejections keep coming, and yet here I am, still showing up, still running through the maze… and somehow still having fun doing it.