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April 5...Somewhere on I-10 in Texas

When you begin describing a life-changing experience, it is difficult to put it into words that don’t sound trite or hackneyed.

During the initial rush to start tearing down at 6:30 on Sunday, it was easy to keep focused on the task at hand and not dwell on the fact that we had formed close friendships and would be saying goodbye.  But Monday morning, as I walked through the tent for a final check, I was bawling like a calf.  After three months of living, working, sharing, and playing with other artists, you become really close. These are the people that I want to be around: a genuine, creative, caring, sharing community.  I have never been a part of one like this; the closest thing was college, but that wasn’t the same.  Here, as adults who are pursuing their dreams and fulfilling who they want to be, there was little animosity or jealousy.  Framer Dude and I were accepted and embraced, and he became an integral part of this family- something he didn’t expect.  As the one left-brained, pragmatic, problem solver amidst a sea of right-brained artists, he became the go-to guy for anything and everything.  From manning the grill and cafe, to building frames and easels, to helping set up and tear down weekend shows, to trouble shooting RV and auto difficulties, there was perhaps four days out of seventy that he had nothing to do.  I have to admit, in January, I was worried that he’d be bored silly in the middle of the desert.  But now, he’s anticipating coming back next year to our new friends.  The drive just sucks.

I think you get back what you put into life, once you find where you’re supposed to be and what you’re supposed to do.  I explored creative avenues and pulled off several new paintings, tried new approaches that didn’t work, and learned about focusing (not easy with ADHD). We have preconceived notions of whom we become friends with. Though we come from all over the country from all walks of life, we found common ground with each other and shared the joys of selling and the hard times; we shared knowledge, critiques, trust, aggravations, poker games, recipes, meals, and happy hours.  My daily walking partner, Shalah, a sculptor of magnificent spiritual pieces and her sister Karen, are ranchers from Colorado whose down-to-earth frankness is similar to my own New York attitude, without my accent (which always tickled Travis from Utah). I found an adopted mother and father in Jeanne and Travis, and an older sister in Cynthia that I love to shop with. Fountain Steve, our RV neighbor, missed his family up in Oregon terribly, and found a place with us many nights.  Kaleidoscope Steve and Framer Dude became buddies and were constantly trading wit.  Marlon and Terri somehow encouraged anti-religion Framer Dude to go to church with them.   They’re going to have their work cut out for themselves next year. 

Framer Dude and Marlon

I know this is also supposed to report on the economics of the show as well.  Judy, Judi and Dennis do an amazing job promoting the Expo, no easy task when there’s already one other ten-week show going on at the same time (Celebration) and which has a prime location right off the 101.  But the patrons who came always remarked on the atmosphere at Expo- welcoming and approachable.  Some artists did exceptionally well; some did not. The economy is still being felt in Arizona, but Scottsdale and the surrounding neighborhoods of Carefree and Cave Creek are second- and third-home communities.  Canadians make up a large part of the art-buying, and Canada’s economy is still strong. 

But the rewards went far beyond financial.  I learned how full time artists work, since that’s something I’ve never experienced neither here in my isolated little part of the world nor, for that matter, anywhere else.   Art tends to be an isolated venture, and it’s up to each artist to find solidarity among other artists, if they need that.  I was brought up in a family that treated art as something that (fill in the adjective here) people did and was not taken seriously as a career.  This trip to Arizona showed me professional, responsible artists that make it work.  It is possible to have a career as an artist, and it’s a lot of work.  But I’ve worked hard at other jobs that I didn’t like, so why waste my time on that?  When I do my marketing, networking, creating, it doesn’t feel like work.  It feels like what I’m supposed to do, and I’m glad I’m here to report on that and share with all of you.  I will have the silly pictures coming soon, since we not only work hard, we play hard too!!