Wednesday, May 2, 2012

Boo-Hoo Water Balloons

It can be humiliating to sit at an art show; especially a craft show.  People power-walk by, eyes darting around in search of jewelry or clothes for their cement porch goose.   It's kind of like when you have a garage sale and you feel protective of your junk when someone does the slow drive by without even stopping.  What?  Is my junk not good enough for you?  I get it... you don't want to make eye contact, because it feels like a buying sign.

The art show people who walk by and ignore me don't know that I spent between $150 and $600 to be sitting there.  I know they don't know it took hours to pack up my 500 lbs of gear, haul it all out of my Durango, cart it to my spot, spend hours setting it up.  People have no idea that each of my portraits has a sweet story... that a part of me is hanging by paper clips on my mesh display walls.   

I know they don’t know, but it still hurts my big fat feelings when they ignore me. I am such a baby.  I mean, really.  My husband told me over martinis and cribbage the other night that I really need to be more positive.  Translation: why are you such a crybaby?  I could fill up water balloons with my self pity blubbering. I sit home all day drawing pictures and writing blogs about myself, what do I have to sulk about?  Sadly for my husband, plenty.

I do intend to be more positive.  But not before I complain a little more.

Last weekend, I had a huge show at the Odeum in Villa Park.  It’s a great show, even though it is held in a creepy, dark, old, tin shed of a building with godawful cell phone reception.  My booth was across from a big ole blingy display of cheap jewelry that took up TWO spots.  Women are nearly drunk with joy when they find cheap jewelry at art shows.  They’ll try it on with their friends and yell stuff while laughing too loud, which feels like a deliberate attempt to hurt my feelings.  They are practically jumping up and down.  I spent the entire weekend looking at the backs of these women. 


Okay, I sort of lied, because it doesn't matter whether the jewelry is cheap.  It usually isn't, but it's JEWELRY and chicks dig jewelry and most of the people at craft shows and art shows are skirts on the prowl for more jewelry.  JEWELRY!

By the time they were done trying on every single item on display and convincing each other to buy those earrings or that bracelet, the women at the cheap jewelry display across from me would immediately sober up and skulk out of dodge with their guilty jewelry purchases.  They’d spent too much time in that spot, no time left to check out the pencil chick.  To make matters worse, a nosy jewelry vendor wandered into my booth and helpfully gave me an earful about how my display wasn’t good enough and looked like it only belonged outside, but not at good shows, where he’d get in but I wouldn’t.  What a dick.  Wasn’t I just telling you how I worry about my display, and feel like I am trying out for cheerleading when I apply to fancy shows?

Sometimes the jewelry drunks give me the briefest once over, which makes me wince even more inside.  A glance with a quick look away is way worse than being ignored, which I'm sort of used to.  Some art show patrons will give my booth a good sniff as they're wandering slowly but steadily by.  That’s a little better, but I still sulk because they don’t stop.  When I say sulk, I mean I have cried in my car on the way home.  I obsessively wonder what I'm doing wrong.   If my husband calls at the wrong time, as soon as I've heard his rumbly, kind voice, I've started to cry in my booth, too.  In front of people.  Yikes.  I really do need to be more positive; this blog may force me into therapy. But hell, at this point I've been pointedly ignored by several million people. Even a mentally balanced normal person with non-crybaby tendencies could get discouraged. 

If I'm not getting blown off, I am being chatted up by people just killing time, waiting for their jewelry-shopping friends.  They'll chit-chat about my pictures, ask questions, maybe even fill out an inquiry form, but it's all hot air and they're not fooling me with their fake interest. Others like to talk about their cats in great detail, or their artistic grandparents or neighors who like to draw. I am trapped and at their mercy. Most don't call me, even if they swear on their cat that they will.

Thank goodness, every once in awhile, I meet someone who gets me immediately.  It’s as if a cartoon lightbulb appears over a smiling face, and it’s such a relief. 

Sandy Smith got me the moment I met her.  As soon as she saw my display at one of my very first shows, she struck a dramatic pose and said, “WOW!” She was one of the very first people I met who made me feel like I could have an art career. 

I have a book of sample portraits and photos on my table that almost everybody ignores.  Sandy carefully looked through the ENTIRE book, pointing out her favorites and pausing occasionally to look at me, shaking her head.  “I LOVE it!” she gushed, “This is fabulous.  Who wouldn’t love to have a beautiful portrait of their children?”  I remember one time my friend Nancy stopped at my booth during a local outdoor summer festival and yelled, "These portraits are so BEAUTIFUL, I'm having CHEST PAINS!"  That was almost as good, even though Nancy already knew me and was just being hilarious.  Mothers tend to be the ones who get it, who share my passion for sweet little moments caught on film. If there was a fire, I would grab the old photo albums of non-digital pictures. The photo booth pictures when my husband and I fell in love… that photo of Joey at two years old in a plaid wool hat with flaps. What if they were just gone?


Sandy Smith knew what I was talking about. 


“I have the PERFECT photo!” she told me, “it is my favorite picture of my girls. Just wait till you see it! You’re going to love drawing it.”  She was so appreciative and delighted, I loved her instantly and more than a normal person should love a stranger.



TANGENT:

Here’s an embarrassing example of my affectionate nature causing problems. When I’ve drawn someone, I have spent hours staring at my subjects, often thinking about what I know of them or wondering about what I don’t know about them. I develop a bit of a bond during all those hours of drawing. One time, I spotted one of my subjects walking by at a show, and I cheerfully called out to her, “Heyyyy, I know YOO-UUU!!!” in a singsong greeting. Startled, the woman stopped, and I gave her a big ole hug. It turned out that her portrait had been a gift from her husband’s cousin. She had never met me, didn’t know me and clearly was not a member of the hug and kiss club, of which I am president. This was awkward, and not the first time it had happened, but I have a learning disability when it comes to this kind of thing and many other kinds of things.

Months later, I emailed a request to my list of clients and friends, asking if they would consider forwarding my website to their friends. I do this occasionally when I am feeling desperate for work and I usually get a job or two out of it. Sometimes my dear friends or clients actually copy me in on their emails, touting my portraits as a swell gift, which really touches me.  I get such a kick out of kindness. One dear soul also forwarded me a response to the email she’d sent on my behalf. It went something like this:

“Hey Wendy, I sent out your message and my coworker wrote this back to me:

I know this portrait weirdo.
She attacked me out of nowhere at a craft show.
She’s a nut case and I suggest you steer clear.”


Can you believe that crabby broad popped up again? What are the chances? Sometimes the world gives you a sign that you should calm down or change. I choose to ignore these signs and keep doing the same dysfunctional stuff. 

END OF TANGENT.

Sandy Smith, on the other hand, was HAPPY to be hugged, which was good, because she was so sweet and complimentary about my work, I could not have held myself back from hugging her. The portrait of her three girls turned out to be one of my all time favorites...



“I call the photo of my girls ‘see no evil, hear no evil,’” she told me.  ”You’ll see why.”  She sent it to me in the mail and it cracked me up.

Eat no evil, poop no evil, whistle no evil.

While they aren’t covering their eyes or ears, the girls’ distinct, silly expressions have that monkey feel, like they are giving us different subliminal messages.  Let's think of some thought bubbles for them.    

Plus, they have water balloons shoved down their bathing suits.  Sandy insisted this was a very important part of the photograph and needed to be included in the drawing. I’m intrigued by this… were the balloons supposed to be boobs?  Why so many?  Were they just trying to see how many they could cram in there? Like clowns in a little clown car?  It’s an enigmatic picture when you consider the possibilities.

"Water Balloons" has been one of a few rare portraits that I've kept in my display for a very long time.  It has sparked many conversations with art show patrons.  Sometimes they make a general happy comment, sometimes they want to know what's going on with the lumps in their bathing suits.  The girl in the middle looks a bit like an Olsen twin, especially in my drawing, which lots of people have believed they are the first to point out.  Not only was the portrait a hoot to draw, it has been an unexpected ice breaker and a beloved part of my portfolio. 

I've drawn thousands of perfectly smiling kids.  Most people are not willing to invest hundreds of dollars in goofy expressions.  But sometimes the silly faces are the ones you love to remember.  I am tempted to add some grade school photos of my friends here, but will exercise a little restraint for once.  (I'm thinking of the Aunt Jemima photo, Vicki.)  Hooray for happy, goofy portraits! 
I want to be adopted into this family

It gives me a joyful little jolt every time I see Sandy's water balloon portrait.  I’m so grateful to her and for all my clients for not ignoring me and for getting me.  When she received her finished portrait, Sandy hand wrote me a beautiful letter, pouring her heart out about what the portrait meant to her.  When is the last time you received a hand written letter in the mail, with a stamp rather than an email?  They are rare and delicious.  All the kind things that my clients say help to stave off my natural tendency to mope and be neurotic. 

Sandy has visited me at the same show where we first met under my big pencilHer happy, growing girls crowd into my booth and they are so tickled to see their portrait on display or in my sample book.  Sandy and her girls stand close together, peeking over each other’s shoulders to find their page and to look at the new stuff.  As they stand together, Sandy’s hand gently brushes a stray lock of hair back from one daughter’s face while her other hand absent-mindedly rubs the back of another.  Sandy is a lovey-dovey, uber-mother like me.  She's in the hug and kiss club. 

Each time Sandy and her girls suddenly appear, unannounced among a sea of averted strangers’ faces, I feel the absolute opposite of ignored... and it's all worth it again.

www.pencilportraitcards.com
http://www.facebook.com/pencilportraitcards 

24 comments:

  1. I'm reading and enjoying, sweetie. I probably already asked, but do you mention your blog when you send out e-mails? You should have lots of readers! Love, Mom

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    1. Thank you, Mommy. I did add the blog link to my emails like you suggested!

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  2. "jewelry drunks." Love that! I'm a silk painter so I speak the truth when I say that I feel your pain.

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    1. It's terrible isn't it? I feel more guilty when the jewelry artists have actually worked hard on their craft. Plus they, and you too, can have a lot of money invested in inventory when all I really have is paper and frames. But the jewelry people at this particular show were buying their stuff from Guatemala and reselling!!!! Curses!!!

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  3. this made me laugh...because I can also relate...as a glass artist sitting in my booth...
    after one November show I participated in , my adoring husband said, "Merr- that was a complete catastrophe". I had spent all weekend, away from my family...in a hot tent...on steamy grass in Scottsdale...trying to peddle my wares and crosses to a community that has a high residency of another faith. After all was said and done, I made $20. It was a disaster...and yet, in other locations, I have a better experience. I too came from a successful corporate career and now sit in my booth wondering why I'm not having flocks of people buying my art. Don't cry anymore...just realize that they're not your demographic...and would rather spend their last $4 on beer and buy/sell imported jewelry. Your talent is awesome...and you DO belong in that tent...just maybe not that asphalt parking lot. don't give up... 8-) mmm

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    1. Oh dear fellow artist... if only I could not cry anymore. I am such a boo hoo-er. I like to think that I can't love people as much as I do and not have there be a down side. I am basically like a character on a soap opera that you would write off as being not realistic because of the nonstop blubbering. Just kidding, it's not that bad, but the rejection is tough, isn't it??? We artists are creative sensitive people!!! I wish you all the same positive vibes!!!

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  4. "Sometimes the world gives you a sign that you should calm down or change."

    OR....

    Sometimes the world gives you a sign that some other people just don't get it, and you are fine the way you are.

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    1. I love you. Plus, the show wasn't all bad because yesterday some dude called me from a PAY PHONE to tell me he met me at the show and that I had beautiful boobs. So I have that going for me. I panicked and hung up, but I really should have listened to what else he had to say. At my age I really shouldn't turn away any compliments.

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    2. Wendy, You are hysterical and I feel your pain.I make fabric collage clothing and often my booth is full of people laughing at my quotes and spending a good chunk of time being entertained.Often they will be undecided and turn on their heels...free entertainment.Not to say I don't sell but demographics and the line up of the stars has alot to do with it. Its a rough biz for sure, but when its good its all worth it! Hang in there and try new shows!

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    3. New shows and I need to change some of the images that I'm selling too... I need to improve my set up and TRY, for the love of God, to STAY POSITIVE. A sense of humor is critical in our business isn't it???

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  5. Loved this one, and, as always, you crack me up and make me want to hug you at the same time. Just like real life with you. Keep it up Wend. You are so good at it. Oh yea, I don't care if you post the aunt jemima picture or, within reason, any of the other hilarious pictures we've taken over the years. :)

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    1. The Aunt Jemima picture may have to make an appearance...

      I love you.

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    2. Little did you know, I'd end up posting a WHOLE BUNCH... but somehow the Aunt Jemima one didn't make it.
      http://www.pencilenvy.blogspot.com/2012/10/meep-moop-means-i-love-you.html

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  6. I am all set for my first every art show due in a week...your post seems like statement of my anticipated fear....I am hoping I will find my Sandy too....

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    1. Everybody deserves a Sandy! Good luck to you. There are lots of good suggestions and encouragement on www.artfairinsider.com. Crossing my fingers for you!!! Where is your show?

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  7. Great and very touching blog, Wendy. I can so relate. My first shows were mostly craft shows, and I sat there with my beautifully handcrafted pieces in a hot tent watching people flock to my neighbor who was reselling beaded flip flops. I couldn't figure out what was the attraction. I've been better at picking the right venue for me, but I still have my feeling sorry for myself days.

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    1. I'm glad I'm not the only one! Sometimes I think I need to get tougher with myself and not give into those discouraged thoughts. But it's hard, isn't it?

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  8. Wendy, I love, love everything you do, draw, write, etc. But my new favorite is your description of a conversation with Joe "over martinis and cribbage" --- I love you, you are such a grown up!

    Love you,
    M.E.

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    1. Love you, Em! Cribbage is my grandparents' favorite game, but the maturity in my habits ends there, as you know.

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  9. You are hilarious, Wendy,(love your description odf the jewelry drunks!) and articulate so well the roller coaster of feelings that many of us experience when we put our work "out there" . I adore your drawings and am going to look through some favorite photos and may have you do one of my crazy kids :)

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    1. Thank you so much!!!! Would love to draw your kids... crazy ones are my favorites.

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  10. I'm refreshed right before I go to bed. Thanks for the happy thoughts :)

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  11. I lost track of Sandy for quite a while. Then someone recognized her girls in my book and gave me her new email. I sent her a link to this blog and she brought me a beautiful hand made card at my next show. It was one of those 3D cards with lovely things layered on it. Inside she wrote lovelyt things, like "Thank you for saying such nice things about me." Honestly... I need to think about this the next time I want to complain about anything.

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