Vacation & Workshops & Art Fairs, Oh My

“Great Lake Ser­e­nade,” 12 x 12 inch­es oil on pan­el, paint­ed in South Haven, MI

Whew, what a sum­mer it’s been. I was for­tu­nate enough to vaca­tion on Lake Michi­gan with dear friends, then on Cape Cod with fam­i­ly. Of course, I had my easel and paints with me, because the light and the scenery in both loca­tions, though dif­fer­ent, are too beau­ti­ful and com­pelling to resist. I man­aged to squeeze a cou­ple of work­shops in, too, to help fur­ther my abil­i­ty to express that ever-elu­sive vision and expres­sive yearn­ing I hold with­in. I love how I can com­bine my work with all oth­er enjoy­able aspects of my life.

I paint­ed en plein air in these loca­tions; I paint­ed in my stu­dio when I got home. (You’ll see a lot of new seascapes and water­scapes in my gallery as a result.) To go to a new place enables one to see and feel and imag­ine with new eyes and new per­spec­tive, and it’s won­der­ful to get a new surge of ener­gy while I’m on loca­tion, then deep­en that expe­ri­ence in my stu­dio after­wards. Because of that, my paint­ing changed this sum­mer. I can’t quite artic­u­late yet what hap­pened, but I know some­thing did. It’s always good to grow. Even through the painful part of the process, growth is good.

Pho­to of my art booth at the Bar Har­bor Arts Fes­ti­val, August 2014

In ear­ly August, I par­tic­i­pat­ed in the Bar Har­bor Arts Fes­ti­val in Bar Har­bor, ME (I was juried in), and I took many of my new paint­ings with me. It’s always a bit nerve-wrack­ing, those arts fairs and fes­ti­vals. First, it’s a LOT of work. Not only does it require paint­ing almost 24/7 to make sure there’s enough work to dis­play and sell, but the phys­i­cal labor of set­ting up a test run of the booth tent and sub­se­quent tear-down, nev­er mind safe­ly pack­ing all the art and nec­es­sary sup­plies, is down­right exhaust­ing. (You do it once to get there, and then you do it all over again when you come back.) That doesn’t even include load­ing the vehi­cle as well as all the prepa­ra­tion that goes into sig­nage, mar­ket­ing, book­ing a motel to stay in, and the like. And, of course, there’s the stress of won­der­ing if all the expense will be worth it. Art fairs are not cheap. The good ones cost hun­dreds of dol­lars for booth space rental alone (food, lodg­ing, and trav­el are extra). Since this was my first expe­ri­ence at the Bar Har­bor fes­ti­val, I was ner­vous. I’m not afraid of risk-tak­ing (there’s lit­tle room to allow fear to take over when one is an artist), but still … what if I shelled out almost $1000 when all was said and done, and no one bought a paint­ing?

“As Con­stant and As Change­ful as the Sea-Ward Dunes,” 24 x 48 inch­es, oil on gallery wrap can­vas. SOLD.

I’m hap­py to say some­one DID buy a paint­ing … in fact, more than one per­son did, and it was a delight to talk with my new col­lec­tors and hear their respons­es to my work. A love­ly attor­ney from Kansas respond­ed so strong­ly to one paint­ing that it actu­al­ly brought tears to my eyes. I nev­er expect­ed that kind of reward, and when she asked if she could hug me after the pur­chase was com­plet­ed, how could I say any­thing but yes? Anoth­er man came back to the booth three times to look at a brand-new paint­ing, and final­ly said he had to have it for his home. Even peo­ple who didn’t buy had many things to say, and I ful­ly enjoyed our con­ver­sa­tions. I learned from them, which I love.

“Sandy Beach,” titled by its new col­lec­tors, 12 x 12 inch­es, oil on can­vas, SOLD.

One of the things I learned was that the vis­i­tors who were most seri­ous about art in gen­er­al respond­ed most strong­ly to my new­er, expres­sion­is­tic, almost abstract work. That was incred­i­bly grat­i­fy­ing. (Now, mind, you, even if they’d been luke­warm about it, I’d still have to paint the way I’m paint­ing, because it goes that deep and is that strong inside me, but hear­ing val­i­da­tion is always sat­is­fy­ing and gives one an extra boost of ener­gy.) I think an artist can’t be steered wrong if she fol­lows that strong com­pass of vision inside. Even if the val­i­da­tion might not be there for a while, she still must fol­low the vision. It’s the only way, real­ly.

It was a good sum­mer. A very busy sum­mer, but a ful­fill­ing one nonethe­less. I am grate­ful to my col­lec­tors and to all those who sup­port me along the way–whether it be fam­i­ly and dear friends who say, “Keep going,” or those I don’t yet know who stop by or send me love­ly emails to let me know how my art stirs them emo­tion­al­ly. It makes a dif­fer­ence, it real­ly does. Thank you all.