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Tuesday, October 13



That is the sound of being dropped back, rudely, into real life. I have tons of laundry, a house full of dust, an order to finish by tomorrow , 3 or 4 show contracts/apps to return and I've already worked 2 days at the theater. I feel like getting back in the car!

Christmas shows are coming. I'm wait listed on my best one, but the others are all in place and a new one is there to try. A couple of small gift "events" that may or may not turn out to be worth it. And then the silence of Winter. Time for decisions.

Part of me wants to pursue other sales options like more shops and the web. Another part wants to concentrate on bringing my work to a higher level and trying for better and better shows. My experience with a couple of the "cadillac" shows has been a revelation. I want more of those. That circles me back to the quality of my work.

Most of my cohorts are at Letchworth this weekend. I wish we did well there. It is a glorious place. But every time we do it the same thing happens. I sit in my booth and watch thousands of people walk by with decorative items covered in raffia. Or, worst case scenario, black plastic garbage bags. Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas decor is big. I don't do that. Last year we had the chain saw guys cranking out hundreds of tacky lawn doodads that sold as fast as they could make them. My stuff just doesn't fit. But every once n a while I sign up anyway.

So many art carnies are bemoaning the economy, but we didn't see that this year. We had horrific storms at almost all our shows and still did a little better than last year. With the tiniest break in the weather, it would have been a banner year. Unless we did Letchworth, of course. :)

I have to figure this all out.

But first, have to get those forms in the mail. And crank up the washer. Vacuum some more. Mom got some more government mail she doesn't understand so it's off to Orchard Park to help her decipher it. This is not to put Mom down. I wouldn't understand it, either, if I hadn't worked there for 23 years. I mean, really, would it kill them to send understandable forms?

Was I really away for a month? Doesn't feel like it. I need a vacation.

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