Hello, Bizbox! Did you miss me? I’ve missed you. Sadly, I’ve been too busy lately working in my company to write about it. But here I am, back again, and ready to talk about the things I’ve learned from big business.

When I talk with people who come into bluehouse, many seem so impressed that the highest compliment they can conjure is: “I can’t believe this isn’t a chain!” What I hope they mean is that it looks like we’ve put a lot of thought into our space, promotional materials, merchandising, and other appearances . . . as much as a company that can actually afford to pay people to do these things and more. We have devoted significant resources to these efforts, not only because it helps us stand out in a crowd and create a memorable experience, but also because I believe it instills a certain confidence in our customers. If a business has a number of locations, the thinking may go, it must be doing something right. People want to be associated with a winning idea. I think a small business can generate this image by appearing polished, professional, and thoughtfully conceived.

Another idea from big business: appear relevant to the world around you. We try to keep ourselves in the news with a variety of initiatives and responses to various world events. This may be slightly easier for us than most, as our focus is in eco-friendly furnishings and the green movement has really taken off lately. We also sponsor and participate in events all over Baltimore, as well as hold public events in our store, which we advertise on the radio. I have reservations about participating in the logo wars, that constant struggle to brand every human experience with a swarm of corporate marks, but a few well-placed appearances go a long way.

Another major lesson from big business is something that is usually glaring in its absence. The advantage for the little guy who plays his cards right is that he or she can be flexible. We can address the individual needs and concerns of our customers and our employees alike. Big business often simulates personal contact, but the closest they can get is “personalized.” They don’t often have the luxury of the sort of relationships we are able to form, just by virtue of the fact of who we are.

One of the best pieces of advice I received in the first month after quitting my corporate job and starting Cedarcrest was to “Plan for Big Success Some Day.” I was full of lofty ideas about the world-beating company I was creating out of thin air.

But my advisor meant something very mundane, almost the opposite of what I imagined: He specifically urged me to build solid infrastructure with legal documents, proper accounting record-keeping, and financial agreements suitable for a big company.

The biggest expenditure of Cedarcrest in my first year, by far, was for legal fees, to formalize a business structure built for big business success someday.

At the time, paying a lawyer was the least interesting expenditure imaginable, yet three years later I am grateful for the early advice as my business grows.

Imagine the United States without the US Constitution. As those political entrepreneurs known as the Founding Fathers knew very well, setting up a powerful yet flexible legal infrastructure set the stage for two centuries of phenomenal growth.

So, I prepared Cedarcrest for big success by imagining what a vastly bigger company would need decades from now.

“If you have built castles in the air,” wrote Henry David Thoreau, “your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them.”

When I think long and hard about inspiration and influences regarding our business, I find it is a few unique individuals which have inspired and influenced me most. While I was in college, one professor, John T. Downs, was most influential and truly key to my entrepreneurial growth as an artist. That is a rare gift from an art professor to an art student. I am happy to have been able to exhibit and sell his work in our gallery as a tribute and small thank you for these valuable lessons. His encouragement to promoting ones work has manifested itself in my ability to finally create a personal website for my own work this year. Talk about lasting effects! After college and before opening artstream I worked at the national level selling hifi equipment. Subsequently I was forced into a lot of stodgy “sales techniques” and “managing people in one minute” sort of training seminars, popular in the 80’s. There was one man, who’s company I worked for (they were all men in that industry!), which created a lasting impression on my growing business knowledge and that was Ivor Tiefenbrun of Linn Products, from Glasgow Scotland. It wasn’t so much his products, or his management skills, but more about how his philosophy of being true to his own ideas, his original thought which was belief that music (the arts mind you!) could change everyone’s life in a positive way. This hit home and attracted me as well as many others at the time. A true original. Being an original and keeping one’s focus in an ever increasing world of information and shared ideas gives me enough inspiration for a lifetime.

Making your life in the arts has the same challenge in the United States as growing lush vegetables in the desert. You have to keep scratching the soil, finding seeds, water and people to help you grow it along the way. You have to answer a lot of questions from on-lookers, such as why do it at all? But the rewards are great. In the past five years artstream has grown to be a cornerstone in our community, one that is enjoying a renaissance after a 20-year decline and we think that the arts have played a strong part of this. Our business has been dotted with influences, inspiration, and has been given a “leg up” by so many truly original and kind people from around the globe. To name a few (and give you some links to be inspired): Grace Bonney from design*sponge (and formerly writing here at BizBox too) has been not only a true original, but is deeply committed to showcasing emerging and established design and art talent with her intelligent, spirited daily writing, Rena Tom’s beautiful shop Rare Device was a huge inspiration to artstream deciding to set up our own online shop, Pretty Darn Swell, an online gallery serving artists and charity at the same time,(always give back), Seth Godin’s blog – filled with so much practical knowledge, (keep trying) Whip-up, celebrating the handmade of all sorts with an inclusive nature,(just do it) Penelope Dullaghan, a freelance illustrator who keeps a blog filled with pearls of wisdom and practical know-how for the small creative-types out there, (think it through) and last but never least, Gaping Void for keeping humor in the mix and important, (life without laughing is just plain dull).

I guess the underlying message here or perhaps it was not so underlying at all, is that it is best to find your own way through original ideas and thought along with learning from the mistakes and successes of others. As a gallery owner, specializing in original art, I have noticed that in an ever-increasing copycat world, everyone love an original.

My favorite sushi restaurant amazes me as a small business, in part because they don’t act like a business. They act like a family that welcomes guests into their home, pleased to be able to host me.

The maitre d’ always greets us with a bow and a “Nice to see you again,” and I sense he really means it. Two or three waitresses often crouch down at our table to “ooh” and “ahh” over my 2-yr-old daughter, as they do every child who walks in to their restaurant. One waitress presents my daughter with an origami crane made especially for her.

As a small business serving the pickiest clientele in the world (New Yorkers), my neighborhood sushi place excels by making us forget they run a business.

They give the feeling that if nobody paid money for the food, they would still be there, patting beautiful sushi rolls dry, book-ended with mounds of wasabe and pickled ginger.

For me, this is difference between owning a small business and working for a large business. Since work is how we spend most of our waking hours every day, it should be filled with as many small pleasures as possible.

My neighborhood sushi place reminds me to work at my small business as a privilege, a pleasure, and a vocation.

When the sushi chef slyly carves a little flower blossom out of a carrot and hands it to my daughter in the middle of dinner, he’s won two customers for life.