No Peace for the Wicked

The Thompson Twins Into the Gap album was a favourite for my family. As I recall, the vinyl copy got warped in the sun, but we also had it on prerecorded cassette. We had very few of these, almost all were recorded off of the records. My parents must have purchased it very soon after the release date, because it was a very important part of 1984 for me, and it was released that year.

In 1984 my parents planned a vacation and it was the biggest vacation we had every been on. We had a big ol' truck and a camper (a can't remember the year of the truck - 70s, and very green) and we were going to travel around BC for a month, a new spot every night. My dad's original plan was to drive to the Yukon border, but after the first tank of gas, he changed the plan. Gas was a limiting factor even in the 80s.

Anyway, the big day to leave had arrived, and we finally headed out, only to discover there was something wrong with the truck before we even got a few blocks. So we turned around and went back home, and my dad, an auto mechanic, diagnosed that something was up with the carburetor. So it was extracted from the truck and dissected on the kitchen table, the offending pine needle (probably actually spruce, but I wasn't an expert then) was removed and the carb reassembled, reinstalled and we were back on the road. There was no damn way we were not leaving that day and waiting until morning. My mom was pregnant with my middle sister, so at 8 years old, it would be the last trip with my parents as an only child.

I would say that this trip was the most memorable and special time of my childhood and was my inspiration - BC is an incredible province. I guess I should limit myself to the memory involving the Thompson Twins. We were on the road to this lake in the Kootenays, no one remembers the name of the lake, but I know it was different sounding, and in my mind it starts with S. It was a long, rough road and we played You Take Me Up and it felt significant. I remember the whole album of course. I didn't mention that the plan was to only stay in forestry camp sites, not the provincial sites, and we had all these BC forest service maps for each district and it was always a mystery what it would be like when we arrived - it could be stunning, or it could be in the middle of a clearcut. There were no places to read reviews or see pictures. It was just a triangle on a map that could be anything. This meant that some of our locations could be quite remote, and required 4 wheel drive (which meant you had to go outside of the vehicle and lock the wheels or something), so it was very surprising when we arrived at this campsite, it was quite busy. I remember a dock and lots of kids jumping off it.

I always fondly remember trip. I can't wait to tell more stories about it and the music that goes with it.

Into the Gap on Spotify

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Today concluded my first craft fair of the season. I think it is my 5th that I have done. So how do we define success at these events? I am going to be brutally honest. We arts and crafters spend a hell of a lot of time and buy a ridiculous amount of supplies and invest heavily into our artistic passion. But for the most part, we all make some pretty useless shit. Now, we love it, and are very proud, and we hope that others appreciate it. But when I am walking around the fair (which I have very little time to do), I am aghast at the talent and time everyone has put into making and displaying gorgeous stuff that really might just be received as useless shit. I guess art is like that - a piece of art that you hang on the wall, for example, is not functional per se, but it has a function. It serves to create an emotion for the viewer, and satisfy a sensory experience that makes them feel inspired. I love making art, I want to make more and I have a lot of things I have made. So I have to acknowledge that it is beautiful, but "useless" and because of that, I have to compete with other artists in the same boat. But I also want to sell my art because I am proud of it, but also because I have a buttload of stuff and I feel guilty making new things because I have so much stuff, and what am I going to do with it. I could give it away I guess, but I feel that if I do that too much, it devalues what I do. I am thrilled to gift some things that I know will be appreciated, but I also want to be appreciated, if that makes sense. I think my artwork is special, and I also like to have the validation that other people see value in it too.

I had great responses to my booth, and many people were interested in doing parties and took my card. I hope that people follow through, but hopefully I don't do anything until after Christmas, even though it could be super fun to do a kids party so they could make a piece of artwork to give to someone special for Christmas.

I sold enough to cover the cost of being there and a bit more, so I feel that it was a success. My first craft sale, a few years ago, I sold $21 or something. I sold a little planter and a couple magnets. I paid $50 to be there, so I was a little discouraged. I really love/hate craft sales, mostly love. I hate that people feel they have to avoid eye contact because I am going to try to sell them something. But I love talking to people about my experience with my art and tell people about the things that make it special to me. I like telling my story about my pen holders and the connection to my Opa, I like talking about that my coasters are named after coastlines around the world, and the long tiles I did are named after the longest coasts in the world. I like telling people about my boxes and how they are named and the history of the lining I use. I sold a box today because I told the customer that it was lined by decoupaging a napkin I bought in Germany in 1995 and saved all these years because I thought it was too beautiful to use for just anything. She wouldn't have opened the box and connected with it if I hadn't shared that story. I had someone sneak over to buy a set of coasters for her daughter because she saw them from a distance and loved them, she never even came into my booth. And the story behind them is that they were two rectangular tiles that were square when together. I named them Gabriola Sands, because the beaches are called Twin Beaches.

I name all my boxes androgynous names that have a cool meaning, but I also made some little drawers, and I named them after types of pants, which was fun for me even if others don't get it.

What it comes down to is that I love it, I want to share it and hang out with people and talk about art. The only sales pitch I ever do is when I see kids, I let them know that I make sure to have gifts for kids to give - things from 50 cents to 2 dollars, so that they can give someone a tiny piece of art that I have made exactly the same as a big piece, but just in a tiny cup. For the first two hours today, I sold nothing but a 50 cent gift tag a little girl around 7 years old, and I had to persuade her to please buy two because I was out of quarters. I was pretty sure it was going to be a shitty day, but it ended up picking up.

Well my two readers, that's a lot of words! Thanks for makin' it!

Have a good night!