First, only do this show because you can get by with a hit or two from a Whale.
If you need 30-40 customers,like me, forget about this.
That said, here are the particulars.
The big thing that hurt was a change in the venue. That always spells disaster.
For years this show has been held in a waterside Park, South Straub Park, right downtown in sizzling St. Petersburg.
Right now St. Pete, my home town, is hotter than Georgia asphalt.
People from all over the world are coming here, and they buy stuff like condos downtown and, art.
Usually this show draws a mix of locals and visitors. Never saw a local whole weekend, not a good sign.
The booth fee is Paragon’s usual, $450. Paragon is Bill Kinney.
For that price I expect a show that will turn me a minemum of $2K-$5K.
This year, I did not even do $1K.
So did a lot of others.
That said, I know at least one fortunate mixed media artist who hit the mother lode. Way to go Ricky!
He was one of the lucky few.
That said,again, here is a true tale of my adventures at my last art show of the year.
Come January 1, I start my 46th year in the biz,
I am in my mid-seventies, started in the 1970s. A golden era, although we did not know at that time.
Hell! We figured that this was the way things are, and that they would go on like that for a long time.
Such blissful innocence.
So, on Friday the 13th I started out from my home in NSB (new Smyrna Beach, get used to it) heading around busy Orlando, then onto dreaded I-4 going west to St. Pete, my home town.
I was hoping for a winner to close out the year.
Just survived three stinkers in a row in November after Pensacola which was a winner, but down this year, fricking weather.
I made it to St. Pete, alive,in three in a half hours.
Just in time for the early 10:30 setup.
The Show was moved to downtown Williams Park, about three blocks up from the waterfront. Might as well have been a million miles apart.
The buying energy on Bayside Drive is incredible, the former site of this show.
Williams Park is a beautiful park, but very hilly in places.
Also it is an incredible magnet for the homeless which are here in vociferous numbers.
I pulled up curbside to the park, not knowing where my booth location was. The show manager, not Bill, effusively greeted me and said,”NELs, you are beside me in booth4. Which was right up the hill from where I was parked.
The hill was about a thirty degree incline up from the sidewalk which was in front of my van.
Lucky me. I am parked right in front of my booth. All I have to do is drag my Magline cart out. Fill it up, and drag it up the hill over heavy roots and tangled grass. Thank God for inflatable wheels.
I now knew why I had skipped my early morn workout at the gym.
Welcome Nels to the Williams Park Gym.
The rest of the Show was all uphill on flat ground with paved sidewalks. We were on the east side of the show.
People would have to leave the comfort of paved sidewalks and trudge thru tangled grass and knarly roots to get to us.
We are worth it.
At least that is what I thought after setting up my new booth with 9 new pieces. I was ready.
A little aside.
How Nels managed never to fall and break his neck in 45 years.
I am old school all the way.
When I first started, all 2-D artists had homemade racks and we bungeed them to the tops of Our vehicles.
No tall vans then. Almost nobody towed a trailer. It was your vehicle, your art, and your booth, all together in one place.
In my early years I drove a Datsun station wagon with homemade wooden racks bungeed to the top. I used an orange tarp at first, gave all my work a sepia look. I was doing mostly black and white then.
Then I discovered white tarps.
Then, coming home from the Festival of Masters show on I-4, I notice all the cars behind me are bobbing and weaving. Avoiding my cascading wooden panels which are bouncing and breaking on the pavement. Broken bungee. Got a new booth, this time with real metal panels and a real professional canopy, with a white roof. This was 1984.
Still going up on a six foot ladder and bungeeing them down.
Been doing that for more than 1400 shows.
Knew I was pressing my luck.
In the days of my youth, I would vault off top of my ladder after attaching the last panel, usually to the tune of “Sweet Home Alabama.”
Lately, I have to sit in my chair take a five minute break, and mentally cheer myself to do a Wallenda moment and successfully attach all panels, and remain intact.
It is lot to ask of a man of my age.
Then, a savior arrived.
Ellen has retired from her shows..well, she will do a biggie like Winter Park if she can rent the booth and panels. Not a bad idea when you think about it.
So, I bought her Pro Panels. Can store them inside my van. No more trucking up the ladder.
And the St. Pete Show was my inaugural with the new system. It shaved another thirty minutes off my setup.
Plus, I now have enough energy that I can vault off the top of my cooler without spilling a drop out of my Yeti cup. Who-hoo!
OK, back to the show (hey, it is my last blog of the year, I thought I should go out in style).
Saturday.
No rain and a little chilly.
A great recipe for sales. Just bring on the people.
Show started at 10am, very slowly.
I had my first conversation with a customer at 11am, but they were not my customer.
My first customer arrived at 12:30, made $60. Take that, more to come.
Waited til 2pm for my second sale.
At day end I sold $676.00. Many others zeroed, some made a little.
The crowd was underwhelming. Almost zero at times, at least in my area.
We were in the shade most of the time.
But people in sunny areas were doing no better.
Bill Kinney did his best. He advertised, he put signs up all over. But it did not work.
The Show location sucked. Good shoes people were were noticeably lacking.
Lucky Ricky made out. Got the right three people from a downtown condo, and they bought bigtime. Not many others had the same luck.
Sunday. A repeat of Saturday.
Bill says the show will be back in the old location in time for his Feb. show.
We will see.
If you are good at Whale Hunting give this show a try.
To cap off my year.
At show end, I am packed and ready to roll.
Noticed a puddle of viscous purple fluid by my rear wheel.
Thought it was brake fluid. Tested them. They still worked.
On Monday drove 180 miles back on them.
Got the van towed to Firestone.
Was not brakes. Bearings in my differential gear. Guy said my rear axle was moving two to three inches.
Luckily I made it.
That was a perfect metaphor for 2019.
I am hopeful for 2020.
I am in Images, Sanibel FEb., Gasparilla, Winter Park, Woodlands And Mainsail.
Waitlisted For Vero And Bayou City. Not bad.
Later Gators.
Mele Kalickimaka And do not smoke too much pakalolo.
