Thursday, June 9
beginning again with perspective
So, my first "big" show of the year, 100 American Craftsmen, is now in the back of my show notebook, stamped "done", numbers totalled. Onward and upward.
It was a lovely show. I've written about it before. I'm happy when I can start the year there and cap it off at their Christmas Show. The jury is, literally, still out on the Christmas Show so I don't know if my incredible application luck will hold. You just never know.
That is, of course, the worst part of this business. Uncertainty. There were some familiar faces missing from the show this year. Talented artisans with a long history at Kenan. Truth be told, I didn't see anyone there that made me think they had outscored the missing folk. But, if I could understand the jury process properly I could fold up my tent and go into the consulting business.
I have groupies at this show. No lie! People who come back every year and stop by every year and buy something every year and give me detailed stories about who they gave the item to or where they put it in their house and how loved it is. I swear, a person could get a puffed head.
So, anyway, the perspective thing (see blog title above). I've been oddly Zen about my shows this year. What will be, will be. I guess it has a lot to do with the crazy events of the past year, the cancer, the broken foot, the blind eye. Each taken separately would give one pause, but as a collective medley of greatest hits, it is a winner. Having all of these hits properly fixed, or so it seems, has been a joyful thing, but accepting the fact of one's vulnerability less so.
And then, losing Mom, reflecting on all sorts of heavy existential issues. Well, I wouldn't wish it on anyone, but it does tend to put things in their proper place.
Last year a this time I would have been fretting about how I only had 2 photo albums and I really should have 6 and where can I get the supplies and how long would it take to make them and on and on ....UGH! So, I have 2. 2 is good. 2 is better than zero.
Adding substance to my new maturity is an awareness of what happened to artists at the Columbus, Ohio art show last weekend. We art carnies are pretty good at weathering storms, tying down the weights and buttoning up when things get blustery. But every so often a storm slams you before you can dig out the lovely, blue home depot tarps and you may lose some stuff to rain drops. And then there is what happened in Columbus:
That is a person's whole business flying down the street. Just the tent and displays were worth about 4 grand. The artist involved estimates the work lost at almost 40.
I think she had insurance, but what they can't insure are the hours spent imagining and creating, the pieces of a person's soul that goes into their art. That image makes my heart stop every time I see it.
It may rain a bit Saturday. Last year I would have thrown curse words at the weather guy who is clueless about what his forecast might do to attendance that day. Not this year. This year I say, bring it on. The real shoppers come out in the rain anyway. It's the dog walkers and stroller brigade that stay home.
I like the view from here. Maybe I'll actually be able to stay a bit this time.
It was a lovely show. I've written about it before. I'm happy when I can start the year there and cap it off at their Christmas Show. The jury is, literally, still out on the Christmas Show so I don't know if my incredible application luck will hold. You just never know.
That is, of course, the worst part of this business. Uncertainty. There were some familiar faces missing from the show this year. Talented artisans with a long history at Kenan. Truth be told, I didn't see anyone there that made me think they had outscored the missing folk. But, if I could understand the jury process properly I could fold up my tent and go into the consulting business.
I have groupies at this show. No lie! People who come back every year and stop by every year and buy something every year and give me detailed stories about who they gave the item to or where they put it in their house and how loved it is. I swear, a person could get a puffed head.
So, anyway, the perspective thing (see blog title above). I've been oddly Zen about my shows this year. What will be, will be. I guess it has a lot to do with the crazy events of the past year, the cancer, the broken foot, the blind eye. Each taken separately would give one pause, but as a collective medley of greatest hits, it is a winner. Having all of these hits properly fixed, or so it seems, has been a joyful thing, but accepting the fact of one's vulnerability less so.
And then, losing Mom, reflecting on all sorts of heavy existential issues. Well, I wouldn't wish it on anyone, but it does tend to put things in their proper place.
Last year a this time I would have been fretting about how I only had 2 photo albums and I really should have 6 and where can I get the supplies and how long would it take to make them and on and on ....UGH! So, I have 2. 2 is good. 2 is better than zero.
Adding substance to my new maturity is an awareness of what happened to artists at the Columbus, Ohio art show last weekend. We art carnies are pretty good at weathering storms, tying down the weights and buttoning up when things get blustery. But every so often a storm slams you before you can dig out the lovely, blue home depot tarps and you may lose some stuff to rain drops. And then there is what happened in Columbus:
That is a person's whole business flying down the street. Just the tent and displays were worth about 4 grand. The artist involved estimates the work lost at almost 40.
I think she had insurance, but what they can't insure are the hours spent imagining and creating, the pieces of a person's soul that goes into their art. That image makes my heart stop every time I see it.
It may rain a bit Saturday. Last year I would have thrown curse words at the weather guy who is clueless about what his forecast might do to attendance that day. Not this year. This year I say, bring it on. The real shoppers come out in the rain anyway. It's the dog walkers and stroller brigade that stay home.
I like the view from here. Maybe I'll actually be able to stay a bit this time.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment