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So here I was, the only show I did this year.Bad back and worse attitude have put me to the injured reserve list, but I had to do Crested. Just had to. The is something completely special about a place without a Starbucks or Home Depot.The show was two beautiful days of sunshine and smiling Texans. Most of us seemed to do "OK" for sales, but all of us came away with feeling we had just spent a weekend in a very special place, with some fine and special folks.

Last year I wrote a blog on the show, and the show peeps asked me if they could atttach it to the show promotions (sure) and if accepted would I do it again this year.( No problemo). So I got in (Thanks Jobu) and asked for a guide to help interview. Diana said she had the perfect person to help.

It took me until Sunday to figure out that Leah Williams (guide and interviewer extraordinaire) was the Mayor of Crested Butte.She introduced me to some local folks, and I in turn introduced her to some artists that I knew, or had asked to be part of this adventure. First up was Glo Cunningham. She runs the local museum, and like Radar O'Reilly, is there to help you before you ask. I had the distinct impression, whatever question I asked would be answered honestly, and might contain a strong opinon or two. And I could like it or not. A small town  

needs someone like this, to defend it yet keep it honest.Glo knows how things really work, how all of us need to work together, and one day may need each others help. Might be why this seems to actually work here, that necessity of community that ain't quite so everywhere anymore. Think she and I might get along right fine.

Leah then introduced me to Spencer Hestwood, owner of the Ginger cafe. I blurted "You're just a kid! I have children older than you!" Leah commented he had just cut his hair (Pony tail not too practical in the hot kitchen be my guess). Spencer sat down, and what came out was wise beyond his years. Most of us know the local merchants in the town we set up in would just as soon turn a firehose on us .He understands the real dynamics of business, that his best plate (our best work) defines us every time, and becomes our success or failure. I asked him why Crested.Got that smile, a bit of twinkle in his eye well beyond his 30ish years. He kinda raised his hands, looked around. I understood. To hear the guy actually get it is one thing. To know he understands just how fortunate he is to be here, and what he needs to do to stay here is, well kinda refreshing. Now, just a quick plug. My back was toast, and I was on an overdose of OTC pain relievers.Saturday night we stoppped in.Had a blue ginger margarita.Nice. One more for effect. Nicer. One last to congradulate myself on my wisdom to try something new. Next am. woke up and expected to have to summon a crane to lift me off the bed. I got up, no pain. Ah, the tequila. Wifeypoo said no dumbass. The ginger has anti inflamatory benefits. OK then. I was back for more Sunday night.

From here, I wanted to talk to a few artist particiapants.Some I knew, and a few "volunteered" to be interviewed. I enjoyed this, the performance we learned is so essential for what we are here for, the sale.  

Susan Quin Byrd and her husband Charles Taube were side by side in life and booth placement.Quite the co incidence. Susan, a photograher, was quite expressive in describing the work she did (the Western theme does resonate with both the locals and the tourists. Gotta have on the walls what they wanna see!). She was quite effusive in her praise of the show itself, and had become interested hearing of both the quality of the artists invited, as well as those Texans in the hills (Quick editorial note; I am a natural Texan, and aside from the Bushes, will defend the state and its wonderful people to the end. And I love how they spend money on art!).Think she and Crested gone along damn fine.

Charles, quite the interesting guy. As Leah spoke to him, I found myself looking from his work, to his bio. Have to say I found his story inspiring to say the least.

His work, some of the most elegant wood sculpture I have seen. Almost a still life ballet in wood.  Happy to be here, looked to be doing quite well, and so lucky to be set up next to his wife. So no pic of Charles, had edit a bit. :)

Leah was kind enough to show her town, and the people behind the scenes off a bit, and as we did, several things became apparant. The energy was real, the lack of any tension was a welcome relief to a stressed out Windy City refugee. No one talking on cells or texting (except the artists). Parents let their children run around like, well like children. The store owners lent their curbs, their shade, electricity and thier patience to us, something I have witnessed three years running. So (now fully aware I was in the company of royalty) I asked Leah why she ran for office. She gave a slight smile, looked up to the horizon for a second."I just love this place, and I will do whatever I can to keep it just the way it is". The same sentiment I found in every person I met that worked the show, worked a business, or served me a margarita. In my show persona, I am known by some as "that old car guy". Known by others as....., well. No need to go there. My work is not about old cars, old planes or rust in general. It's about a time when certain things mattered, when honor was of value, when what a man made with his hands was a work of art. Meant to be cherished, not thrown away. A time when people understood community, understood enough to know it wasn't to be taken for granted.Had to be worked on and at, knew when to help another. Crested kinda gets all that I think, a small slice of what used to be America protected by the mountains. And by the people that are willing to work to keep it that way, kind enough to share it with those of us that take over for a Summer weekend. But I wanted to introduce her to someone I know a bit, and to me someone that epitomizes the spirt of the American artist, working off the grid a bit every day of the year. I met Christine Hauber a few years back, initially over the various artists participation sites, and finally

at some show somewhere. To me, art is so many things to so many people it defies any real definition other than whatever selective interpretation the user may require. The term "artist" to me is someone that is willing to adapt their life to their work. The art not just what is on the walls, but in their willingness to do what it takes for the maintain the freedom of the lifestyle, to put their work before the possessions that weigh most of us down. Leah asked where Christine lived. "I live wherever the work or the shows take me". Leah, I think, fully understood. She has to, that spirit pervades the walls of these old buildings that so gracefully invite us to wonder of how things used to be here. I think she enjoyed meeting one of the real souls of the traveling tent shows that take things over for the Summer weekend. Met a whole bunch of decent folks here, Bea and her husband Matthew Hatala. Again the co incedence of a married couple being assigned boths next to each other. And yes, the idiot scrambling to put his dog back in his carrier at the Ginger Cafe was me.

For the majority of artists that make the show, it's a mad dash to get to the destination, a furious effort to set the tent, hang the work. Days on your feet, smiling, hoping the questions turn into cash. Catch a quick meal, a decent sleep, and when the show is over, pack it up to do it again. Crested is different from most places, the event has become a destination . One that people plan their vacations around. The art is upper end, the people come to buy, and the hosts. Well, they are the real winners in all this.They get to stay. For the artists, if not  this time, maybe next time for sure. Stay a few extra days and really get to know the place. It was an honor to see it from another perspective. Oh, and one last shot. The gratuitous chick singer pic. Yep. I'm. I'm coming back here.