From the "for what it's worth" side of the tracks. I am one of those "part timers" crazy enough to work a business for 12 hors a day, then find time to participate in the show circuit as a means to prepare for the afterlife. I began in 2003, first show being the Downtown Boulder Show, remember setting up the fake "display" in my back yard and leaning on my neighbors to play the part of the crowd so I had a booth shot.The feeling of pure euphoria as I actually sold pieces (think we sold around $2K that first time) encouraged me to stay with it. I honed my act,in terms of subject matter (i.e. "things that sell"), the booth, the pack up (remember cardboard boxes that came out of the truck fine, and having to tie them to the roof when I packed up) the framing and all those other litlle hard learned lessons.
The next few years things went well. Very well. We made it into some big shows, most notably Main St/Ft. Worth where we broke the magic five figure barrier for the first time (kinda like that back seat at the drive in moment you never forget). Bayou City, Crested Butte, Denver, Austin. So many adventures along the way.Met all sorts of good people. Found it to be fun to see familiar faces. Learned to keep things positive when so many found it easier to complain about sales, the weather, democrats, yadda,yadda.Learned what a community this is, how to help those stuggeling to set up/take down in the rain, how to be a better human being. How to never take the privlidge of being accepted in these shows for granted.
Come 2009, and burnout set in. Over 20 some odd shows that year, ran business via the internet and my so patient wife became less understanding of what I went thru. Blazing heat,monsson rains, hurricane force winds, the stress of no people in the streets and life on the road all took their toll. But more than ever, I missed being able to lose myself with the camera. Something has to give, and this became what I lost. That special connection with something you first feel, then see, then photograph became a distant memory. Only so much gas in the tank, I had to take a break.
Being waitlisted in 2010 confirmed it was time to think about time off. The amount of applicants for the shows became astounding .Personally I think the lack of "freshness" about my work contributed to not being accepted to shows I did for several years. Rather than be bitter, bitch about the unfairnness of it all, I considered taking the year off. But, I was accepted to a few and decided what the hell. I'll do a few.
The first pack up came, sent the weekend doing things I had all Winter to do (procrastination being a tattoo on my arm). Trailer packed, CC machine greased, inventory complete. And I was dog tired and half hearted. It hit me like a wet newspaper to the back of the head when I stopped the next day for gas. I went into the store, smelled the stale coffee and those chessburgerdoglog things glistening and rotating and mezmerizing.The semi toothed truck drivers, the semi literate cashiers. I remembered the late nights, the deadline to be somewhere I ain't gonna make. The fine selections of caffiene products (my regimine was 40 some odd ounces of dark roast, then 5 hour energy, then green tea to wind down.This would do just fine for the 20 hour straight run from Chitown to Texas).And those exquisite roadside rest rooms. I called the Woodlands and said I ain't gonna make it, so pull someone off the waitlist. Felt a bit like the kidney donor, I lost $400 and someone else got to make money.
So now, I am down to a few more few. While I think I am making the right decision, have to say the weekend of Main St. (waitlisted, never called) I was bummed.Memories of the exhileration of the set up, those crowds, those sales, and the nightlife afterwards played with me the whole week. I have to live vicariously for a while, but will stick to my disciplines, take a good hard look at myself, and come back kicking butt and taking names. But damn, I miss it for now.
Comments
Right up front I stated I was one of the part timers, and I will follow this up by making a comment on the term "artist". I grew up in the blue collar world, grandfather a tool and ie maker,father a painter. I understood not just the lunch bucket work ethic, but also the pride in becoming a master of a craft, of doing something well enough to support your family so they had the chance for a better life. I understand what the term "journeyman" means and tend to apply this to my understanding of the title "artist". I became a jouneyman carpenter when I paid my dues, learned from my elders, and proved myself not just to them ,but more importantly, to myself. The drive to become the best requires sacrifice and passion. You cannot possibly succeed without it (unless your Daddy worked hard enough so you don't have to).
I am one of those that doen't award the title "artist" to someone simply because they hang something on a wall, or hammer out a bracelet. Passion, creativity and committment to the lifestyle more important in defining an artist than the guy with the 10X20 booth that looks like a museum on wheels.
When I started I was traveling the backroads on me Harley.Found that fine BBQ in the Louisiana gas station. Loved talking to farmer that gave me the tour behind the barn, allowing me to photograph his Dad's rusting in pride Studebaker (never would have seen it from the fenceline).The pure unmitigated joy when you make an emotional connection with someone that feels what I feel, enough to dig out hard earned dollars for what they consider art.
So, more than anything else, it's my respect for everyone that does this for a living that makes me sit back a bit, find what I had lost and set things right that makes me take a (sorta) break. The realization that I love this enough to leave it be for a bit, reflect on what I have learned, to miss the people that I have learned so much from. The realization that my days are truly numbered, and to make a living doing something I love is worth taking the time to get things right.
And Nels, you are one of the gems on the circuit.One of the truly lucky ones. I wanna be you when I grow up.
I have talked about burn out before, I do have a blog geared towards helping other artists providing tips and advice. And I might add with your talent, you may want to think about writing a blog - it is GREAT therapy and you'll find that you are not the only one and many will want to read about the good old days or finally have someone to relate to when it comes to doing shows way back when and doing them now. If I may be so bold, while I am a huge pusher of "don't quit", it sounds like you do need a break - not quit. Granted not all people can because this is how they make their living - however if you can, it could be the best medicine. I have found those who are in a funk and take a break eventually reconnect with art and in a whole new light. They find new ways to get inspired. They use the time to walk shows verses doing them. They go to galleries/museums and see what new exhibitors are getting the spotlight and new art is being displayed. Then some find they want to experiment with new/different art forms (by taking up a class at a community college or art school) and find a new passion that far surpasses their original one. One of the things I take for granted is enjoying a real vacation - not one that is tied to a show. Talking to locals, experiencing a new place - generally those off the beaten path, and start writing and doodling about the experience is something I love and helps me when I start getting into a funk.
I can't see myself giving up doing shows. However, recognizing when it just isn't working any more is something I don't really think we all pay attention to the warning signs. When it isn't fun anymore, when it is more of a chore, and you are more angry than not when it comes to making a profit or wondering if I did it all for nothing (going back to the only if I knew now what I knew then...). At the end of the day I do think positive, it is that positive thinking that helps us move on and helps us face the future. We all need a pity party from time to time, but once we get all those emotions out, our raw desires surface and that is usually when a new door of opportunity opens. I am hoping that door will open for you very soon, Mark.
Best wishes,
Michelle
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