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Sunday, January 13

It starts now

Art fair season doesn't start in June with the blooming of white canopies up and down the avenues. It doesn't start on a Summer morning with the smells of kettle corn and lilacs mingling in the air. It starts now. In January. When there is no real light until 8am and your studio is impossibly cold and damp. It starts just weeks after the last season ended, with the applications that slide through your mail slot, deadlines in bold font.

I have had many long, rambling conversations with the people who visit my booth. I am usually happy to explain how things are done and share techniques. Why not? I don't feel as many artisans do, that it should all be secret, protected. Instead, I find that once the extent of the work involved is understood, most people are happy to buy one of my pieces rather than try to replicate it. And if they do want to try it, well, great. No country ever went under because it had too many artists.

So I am going to share the journey from cold attic to hot asphalt on these pages. I expect to wander off topic now and then, but 6 months from now I will be out of these flannel jammie pants and into art show clothes. I'll be huggin old friends from the "circuit" and catching up on news of kids, complaining about the juries and comparing hair colors. My regular customers will be stopping by to see what's new and they won't be shy about telling me if it's good or just OK. (they never say it's bad) After months of sending money off for fees and supplies and hotels, the first dollars will come in, stemming the bleeding from the checking account just a bit.

It will seem like the season is beginning, but that won't be true. It begins now.

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