This will be will like the annual, much-maligned school report: “What I did on my summer vacation.”
Only this one is called, “What I learned in my weekend at the art festival.”
Like family vacations, this weekend had a mix of observable moments, lighthearted events, and other things going on underneath.
The fun easy events first:
I had a wonderful weekend!
Morning set-up almost done - before the Festival begins on Saturday
Early morning set-up in the cool air went just as it should be. (I had not forgotten anything we needed!) I was pleased with how the display looked. I was proud of the work I took. I talked and talked about art all weekend with festival go-ers. I had good sales.
And I won a big ol’ award!!
Recognition is always a nice affirmation. As a textile artist, in particular, I am always especially pleased when my quilts are judged well against painting, clay art, printmaking and other mediums that may be more familiar to the judges. (At this festival, each artist has ONE MINUTE with each judge to show and explain the work!) A well-judged show is a testament to competent, thoughtful judges. I was grateful that this festival had very good judges; it showed in their insightful awards across all mediums.
So what else was going on?
They Built Their House of Twigs II - one of the works I exhibited at the Fall Festival in DeLand
As I talked to people all weekend, sometimes in the booth, and sometimes when attendees would come over to my chair to chat, I was touched by the very deep, emotional longings stirred up in people by looking at the artwork.
Some were just folks who like to look at art. And when they see work that touches or inspires them, they FEEL it. There is something about looking at the work of an artist’s hands that stirs their soul. What a great experience to share.
Being moved by art takes people beyond the shopping experience. I took mostly large works with me to exhibit. They would be a major presence in a home, and are beyond the size and price that many art-appreciators could acquire. Once the festival-goer established that with me, almost apologetically, then we could just talk about art. It opened up a freedom to experience color and texture and story and how it makes one feel. As a creator, I find these conversations deeply meaningful.
Stepping On the Cracks - another work I exhibited at the Festival
I also had a number of conversations with people who are art-makers, at varying stages of their artmaking story.
Fellow artists and exhibitors looked at the quilts and talked about the process, how it is alike and different from their own medium. These thoughtful conversations with other artists are a great part of exhibiting.
And artmakers who are just beginning, or less experienced, shared a lot with me about their desires to create, and their struggles. Sometimes I could refer them to the work of another artist that might help them. Sometimes they just needed to spend uninterrupted time looking, processing whatever was stirring their creativity.
And then. The students. The young people. I’m just a sucker for a student who is interested in art.
One meaningful conversation stayed with me. I wrote a poem about it, and I will end this post with those thoughts.
A STUDENT FULFILLING AN ASSIGNMENT
FOR HIGH SCHOOL ART CLASS
Asks me questions. Barely.
Barely audible. Barely there.
Used to hiding behind loose hair
And loose clothing.
The softness of their voice.
(Matched by the softness
of their hand — my firm handshake an interjection
that caught them by surprise.
How does one do this?)
“How did you decide on this medium?”
“How do you create this work?”
“What artists have influenced you?”
The answers written in a clumsy journal
so softly. Grey pencil barely visible.
The student feels barely visible.
Go ahead, my young friend.
Ask the real questions.
How do I —
Could I —
What will I be?
Who would notice?
. . . . . . . . .
For all the artmakers: Happy creating
For all the art lovers: Happy appreciating
Thank you for reading.
I always enjoy questions and comments.
--Bobbi
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