Letter From the Editor
Happy end of summer, y’all!
While browsing decorations for my baby girl’s high school graduation party (the last for this empty nester!), a common phrase caught my eye and stuck with me: “The days are long, but the years are short.” It rang as true when I was selecting toddler pictures for her photo boards as it does while we finalize this issue, marking the 8th anniversary for the Columbus edition. Time, as they say, flies when you are having fun. Post-covid (well, post-covid-shutdowns anyway), I think we can all agree: time flies whether you are having fun or not. Though those early pandemic days seemed so painfully drawn out, it is now difficult to believe they were over two years ago.
Eight years. What were you doing eight years ago? Chances are, if you are college-educated or employed in a professional capacity, you aren’t working at the same place you were then (according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics). Even small business owners can usually expect to move on to something else after five years (according to the Small Business Administration, more than 50% of small businesses fail within five years of launching). For those who do not fail, mergers, acquisitions, and dissolved partnerships can mean that even successful small business owners find themselves exiting a company unexpectedly. Beyond worklife, most people also realize a lot of change in their personal lives in eight years. The National Association of Realtors reports that the average American moves eleven times in their life, meaning that many of you may have moved since we launched - I have. From aging parents, children growing up, death of a loved one, and divorce, the myriad changes life can bring in a matter of days, months, and years is truly astonishing. In terms of how time passes, my experience has been that some days seem to never end and others seem to be over before I have finished my morning coffee. And years? Don’t get me started…I can tick off the two or three longest years of my life, that I would be ever-so-grateful to never revisit, just as easily as I can name the ones that flew by in such a rush that I have to catch my breath in order to grab a quick sip of champagne and ring in the next one. So I can’t completely embrace the pithy statement above. It feels like I have lived a couple of lifetimes in the past eight years - and, frankly, more things in my life have changed than remained the same.
When we launched SL Columbus eight years ago, my primary profession was the co-owner and a principle auctioneer of Garth’s Auctions, then a midwestern staple on the art and antiques scene. I was juggling a vibrant career in a successful company while navigating the acquisition of another regional auction house and collaborating for the first issue to onboard advertisers, button-up local content, and fine-tune a curated mailing list of the top 1% of greater Columbus households. Evenings and
weekends were filled with sports and extra-curricular activities for my four children (8, 10, 12, and 14 way back then).
Today, as I prepare to settle Maddie into her dorm at Indiana University in a few short weeks, I am filling my calendar with visits to my young adult children as they explore their passions at various locations around the world. Gratefully, SL Columbus remains a dynamic, healthy small business - thanks, of course, to loyal readers and the bevy of incredible advertisers who invest in each issue. While SL Columbus continues to grow into a mature entity with more heads, hands, and hearts moving into leadership roles, I am nurturing and cultivating a budding independent art and antiques consulting, appraising, and auction business. My experience of these personal and professional life cycles has taken a more adventurous perspective than I could have embraced pre-pandemic. Today, I find myself taking each day as it comes - with much more tolerance of my own shortcomings and ever-changing circumstances. And I definitely find a lot of comfort in simple pleasures that provide a momentary escape inward, to a core place that seems to never change.
Here’s hoping that the next 70 pages offer some long and lingering moments of beauty, inspiration and escape, and here’s to the next 8 years - whatever they may hold.