Where to begin? The Sourwood Festival was an enormous disappointment for me... but the experience brought about some important growth in my work. It's a long, long story, one that I will not soon forget. I'll try to condense it for you to the best of my ability....
I was a nervous wreck on Saturday morning, after getting up from a restless night's sleep. It was pouring outside... I had visions of my tent floating away, but fortunately I was one of the lucky ones. Upon getting to the tent, which we had set up the evening before along with our homemade walls, we were greeted by some tents that were completely ruined, having caved in from the pressure of the downpours and the wind. Glimpses of crafts peeking out underneath obliterated piles of metal rods and canvas made me feel so grateful that we hadn't brought my work down previously, and I thanked my lucky stars to discover our tent still in one piece. However, it leaked as if the walls were made of coffee filters, especially in the corners. As we hung work and made ourselves at home, we had to be constantly aware of which pieces were getting wet, ready to move them if the wind shifted. And when the mischevious wind picked up speed after doing several sun salutations and anti-rain dances, we wound up having to literally stand in the corners to hold down the tent as my work swung around like wind chimes.
Not many people came by... but occasionally we'd peek around the corner at our neighbors... a very talented potter to one side, bored and antsy as well, and a toy gun vendor on the other... and were astounded at the crowds that would gather around the gun woman's little shooting gallery. These weren't just toy guns... they were authentic looking (and sounding) machine guns and rifles, some even with fake silencers. I'm sure she made a pretty penny, for almost every boy between the age of 10 and 18 was walking around with one, and every so often, we'd hear her arguing with irrate parents who were insisting on returning the gun their child had bought. It was quite unbelievable, actually. And we wondered to ourselves... isn't this supposed to be an arts and crafts fair? Or at the very least, a vendor's fair that reflected the values of our sweet little town? Eeeeek.
About midday, after Deena had gone and found us jackets at a local outdoor store (it was actually COLD outside!), she started feeling sick and wound up going home and I was on my own (however I didn't know that she had actually left until my dad later showed up with kids to tell me she was home). Occasionally an interesting person would come and visit me, marvel at my work, and move on... The rain and wind kept going until midafternoon, and the sound affects from next door were giving me a headache. I was lonely, discouraged by the lack of company and help, and while the rain had stopped, I was still somewhat soaked to the bone. Around 5 o'clock, I decided to call it quits. My folks came down to rescue me after I called them in an embarrassingly emotional and vulnerable state, and faced with the decision of whether or not to come back the next day and face it alone, I decided to pack everything up and bring my Sourwood adventure to an end.
What it all boils down to is that I am not a festival person, and neither is Deena. Atleast not a Sourwood festival person. I'd much rather be walking around marveling at other people's stuff than feeling trapped inside a little tent. Sunday was a gorgeous day, and had I stayed, I might have made a sale or two but probably not enough to really make it worth the time and energy I put into being there. Instead, I spent the day with my family... exploring and getting inspired by the Folk Art Center in Asheville with my folks, hiking, and reconnecting with Deena after a tumultuous bump in the road of our wonderful relationship. I still have moments of feeling let down, but at this point, they are emerging from shere exhaustion rather than genuine disappointment. I came away with no sales except for a couple of smaller commissions, but this experience has taught me to find the value within my work in the most surprising of ways... while I had hoped to come home with money to spend, the experience made me richer in that it allowed me to form a profound soul connection to what I've accomplished, as well as what I have yet to create. And now, I feel inspired to move on with a more defined purpose and see what other adventures I can find that won't drain the life out of me.
Speaking of which, two of my pieces have been accepted into a show at the Asheville Arts Council in September. Yippeee! I will write more on this later... babble, babble, babble...
"Art must take to the road and risk all for the glory of adventure." ~Lawren Harris
