I got over my crisis and decided I was just as good of an artist as I needed to be. More importantly, I decided that as I used to tell my students back when I was a sort-of art teacher, it’s the process not the product. I forgot that for a bit but I have remembered it now! And, I did a show, well, a craft fair sort of thing. I worked like a demon and ended up, with, well, a body of work. Yes. As you can see! Complete with a tablecloth! Which on looking at this photo it occurs to me I should have straightened out. And baskets! And frames and mats and bags like a grownup and all in all I felt quite good about it, if nervous and lacking the same sort of professional signage other exhibitors seemed to have.
There were not huge crowds. But there was beer and my friends showed up, including an old friend I hadn’t seen in ages and that was nice, and a few people bought some art, and I made a new friend and didn’t get outrageously drunk so all in all it went very well. I basically made $17! Whoo! $17 is $17 and not to be sneezed at, but most importantly, it made me work hard and put together what is by any metric, a damn body of work. A portfolio. An oeuvre. And soon I hope to have a whole new gallery page featuring the stuff I was selling which you, dear reader, can buy here should you be so inclined. And there is always more stuff coming, because I was in the darkroom again today making stuff and enjoying the hell out of the process. All good.
In other news, my errant son has returned home again and that is . . . a bit rocky as is to be expected. He is working though so that is good and I am hoping that things will shake out okay. The new world is not so great – in the 80s I could move out of my parents’ house and in with 4 or 5 friends and each of us paid about $150 in rent for a weird 5 bedroom apartment which we promptly filled up with beer cans and spiderwebs. Nowadays that apartment would cost each roommate about $500 a person and yet they don’t make any more money than I did 25 years ago. So of course they live at home because what else are they to do? I wish I could figure that out because those couple months of living alone were fucking heavenly despite the occasional bout of rampant paranoia. Oh well! Welcome to the 21st century, much like the 19th!
And in other other news I have started a project of taking a picture of my breakfast every day and putting it on instagram and I already regret it because, really, ick. But I will keep on going for a month. And, I am going to be taking over as the social media volunteer for the Asheville Darkroom, so if you don’t already follow them (me, I guess, now!) on Facebook and Instagram and Twitter for the old gods’ sake get to it! And that, I think, is it for now. Keep an eye on the gallery page. I swear it will get done soon. Ish. Soonish.