By Jane Pollak

“Do you feel like your business keep morphing?” my friend Beverly, an interior designer, asked me in the late 80’s as my art business took on another new dimension. I bristled at her question. I sensed a negative implication of contortion or mutation when I heard the word morph, not modification or transformation as the dictionary suggests.

I first exhibited my pysanky, Ukrainian Easter eggs, at the Pink Tent Festival, a crafts fair in Stamford, Connecticut in 1973. When Beverly posed that inquiry, not only was I selling these objets d’art, but I had also created a line of jewelry pieces using duck eggshells, had produced a set of notecards featuring my designs in iconic settings, was teaching workshops on the process, and speaking at associations of women business owners on the topics of goal-setting and marketing.

Defensively I responded, “I don’t feel like I’ve morphed, Bev. I’ve evolved.” Somehow that distinction of one opportunity organically growing from another legitimized my choices.

Looking back over the now decades of entrepreneurial maturation, I’m less bothered by the word “morph” and more curious about how, in fact, my company changed its shape from 1973 to the present.

In every iteration from An Egg by Jane to Jane Pollak, Inc. to Jane Pollak Designs, the seeds of the next venture were planted long before the shoots and leaves appeared. Before ever contemplating business ownership, I taught high school art where I learned the craft that would hold me in its thrall for the next 30 years. Before giving motivational keynote addresses, I attended conferences where successful women told their stories. Before writing books, I consumed others’ writing voraciously. If you’re looking ahead to what might be next, take time to consider what in your life now makes your heart beat faster.

As I applied wax to the oval surfaces I was embellishing, I listened to motivational speakers on cassette tapes. Zig Ziglar taught me the art of goal-setting, Roger Dawson helped me become a better negotiator, and Dr. Julie White modeled risk-taking and presentation skills.

Many of my gurus mentioned that listeners who wanted to speak should join Toastmasters, which I did. It felt natural to me that an artist would also be a speaker because I had an important message to share. If I can make a business out of this, then you can make a business out of anything. That became my keynote address, and developed into my second book, Soul Proprietor: 101 Lessons from a Lifestyle Entrepreneur.

Once on the speaking circuit, audience members asked if they could pick my brain which quickly made me appreciate the value of what I’d learned. I developed a coaching practice soon after my speaking career began.

Seeing and creating opportunity are hallmarks of the entrepreneurial mindset. I could easily have enjoyed an endless string of coffee dates and lunch invitations where I shared my experience and knowledge gratis. Or I could study how to become a coach, hang up a new shingle, and attract audience members to become clients.

My most recent transition, morph or pivot has been a return to my roots as an artist. The weekend before the quarantine which began in March, 2020, I enrolled in a workshop to learn how to make Penny Rugs, a traditional American craft. The instructor presented us each with a kit of fabrics and templates to create a pillow top during the class and enough to continue at home if we wished.

With a lockdown in place, I completed a first pillow, then another, and another. As I displayed my new passion during zoom conversations with friends and family, the immediate feedback was, “Stunning! You could sell these.”

I smiled, knowing full well what selling one’s art entails. As the pandemic dragged on, I ordered more fabric, threads, and pillow forms and continued to sew. I have now produced enough pieces to open an Etsy shop, which I have.

When you take strides in your new direction, notice what the Universe sends your way. One friend asked if I would be interested in her collection of buttons. She sent me a curated assortment. A former client and haute couture designer shipped a care package of swatches, sequins and beads. Another offered a sewing machine (I declined), and my son constructed a portable embroidery frame (he’s discovered woodworking during the pandemic) which I use regularly.

I received my first commission within my first month of trying my hand at this craft.

A colleague recently described me as “the best pivoter I know.” Rather than grow defensive or feel the need to explain my evolution, I simply replied, “Thank you.”

Jane Pollak is a high school friend of Erica’s. She has been crafting her future since the early 70’s. She currently lives in NYC where she thrives as an artist, author and entrepreneur. Her recent memoir, Too Much of Not Enough, chronicles her reinvention and revitalization after the dissolution of her 38-year marriage. Pollak has three grown children and three grandchildren.