Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Folding My Tent

One of my first sidewalk art shows took place on the same weekend a Florida winter storm blew through. All bluster and no bite, the storm came off the Gulf of Mexico with enough wind to topple my primitive art display.

As I cursed and scrambled to secure what I could, my artist neighbor sat stretched out in a lawn chair, reading a book. Finally, she looked up, and, with the hint of a smile, spoke for the first time.

"I always go to an art show expecting the best but prepared for the worst."

This past weekend I endured another disasterous show complete with the usual suspects - beer drinking good old boys, babies in strollers, goth students with no money in their pockets, corporate hot-shots with nothing except money in their pockets, and every kind of dog imaginable. And everyone of them competing to not buy the most art. It was the worst and I was not prepared for it.

In times like this, I tend to become philosophical and go on and on about "the wonderful learning experience even if I didn't make any money." The truth is, I should have learned my lesson with this kind of show years ago. Small art shows just starting out, with little advertising, and a bad location, should be avoided like a Thomas Kincade print.

1 comment:

Martha Marshall said...

Denis, I couldn't agree more. In fact, I stopped doing outdoor shows altogether a few years ago. But I kind of miss the people watching.

Nice to see you have a blog. I'm a fan of your work.