Tales from the Trove - Brigantine Summerfest

I first heard of Brigantine's Summerfest, put on by the Presbyterian Church, when I was opening my business bank account a couple of weeks ago. The person (associate? account manager? I'm not sure) helping me said I should do it because it always attracted a crowd. So, I looked into it and found out it was billed as as flea market. This sort of gave me pause, as my very first show had been a flea market. I sold $20 worth of jewelry, $10 of which was to my mom, and I was the only crafter there. Since then, I'd vowed to never do a flea market again. But this one was just a couple of blocks from my house, and the entry fee was only $40. Despite the nagging feeling that I was making a mistake, I could feel my resolve melting. I decided to give it a try.

The event was to go from 3:00 p.m.-9:00 p.m., which was a departure from the usual 10:00 a.m.-5:00 p.m. shows. This meant that the bf and I didn't need to get up at the crack of dawn, which was nice. I took advantage of the free time by sleeping in a little and doing some much-needed housework until noon rolled around and it was time to load the truck. I hadn't been outside all day, and when I took my first step out the door I gasped. The heat was oppressive. I felt a wave of panic and guilt. How could I sit out in that all day? How could I ask the bf to set up in such conditions? Suddenly the easy location and low entrance fee didn't seem as enticing as they once had.

But we had to press on. We loaded up and made our way to the church lawn, setting up our tent between an elderly man selling used toy trucks and a group of women selling the church cookbook. I wondered how these elderly people would fare in the heat and felt a bit chastened.

Sale-wise, it wasn't as bad as I'd expected. I easily made back my fee and then some, thanks, in part, to the patronage of our out-of-town landlord, who was visiting family for the week, and one of the bf's customers. As usual, many shoppers expressed interest in my wares, and several were impressed by the detail work of the totes. Although some said they were too expensive, no one said anything hurtful or out-of-line, and for that I was grateful. At an event where the offerings included half-priced thrift store jewelry and "mystery bags" for $1, it was the best I could have hoped for.

It was strange and a little bit eerie to still be sitting out there as darkness fell. Because of this (and honestly, because of our fatigue), we began breaking down half an hour early. Although I'd consumed only fruit, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a popsicle, and soda all day, I still wasn't hungry.

I'd packed up just about everything when a little girl accompanied by two older little girls approached me and asked if she could still buy something. I said sure, if she saw something she liked. She said she'd wanted a bracelet. I happened to be filling a box of bracelets just then, and began unpacking them so she could have a look. She pointed out the one she wanted, a simple piece made of large, colorful wavy-disc beads. I told her it was $5, and she started counting out coins. She clearly did not have enough, and something in me twisted. This whole business was hard, hard on me and hard on the hordes of little girls who walked by, wanting stuff that their parents wouldn't buy. "It's okay," I said. "I want you to have it." She just looked up at me. "Go ahead, take it!" urged her friends. Then she tried to offer me the coins, but I said she could keep them. "Say thank you!" urged her friends. She did, and then the three of them ran off in an excited flurry.

And that was that.

Next stop Cape May Promenade Craft Show, August 14-15.

New Tiny Totes: Purple on Parade

Tiny Ice Cream Cone Tote

Tiny Dragonfly Tote

Painting on purple and blue canvas has always presented a challenge for me, but I've learned that metallic paint and any paint mixed with white work best. These designs are variations on some I painted (and sold) previously. I'll have the chance to fly them proudly under the tent tomorrow during Brigantine Summerfest. In the meantime, they can be found in my Etsy shop.

Tales from the Trove: Ocean City Summer Indoor and Outdoor Fine Arts and Crafts Extravaganza

In the wee hours of Saturday morning, as the bf and I were loading the truck, it was raining. And thundering. (No lightning.) I thought, "This doesn't bode well." But by the time we arrived at Carey Stadium next to Ocean City High School, it was hot and sunny. We were set up on the football field, and each tent was an island, set up so that shoppers could enter through either side. This was different from all the other shows I'd done, when the tents had been arranged side-by-side with no route out the back. Once we were set up, the bf had to go to work, so I settled in with Cosmopolitan and my much-loved copy of Downtown by Anne Rivers Siddons. And so the waiting began.

It was a slow, gauzy-hot sort of day. Sometimes a soothing breeze would whip through. At one point it uprooted one of the tents, sending it wheeling across the football field. I sold a few things. Among them were my Medium Midnight Jungle Tote, which was one of the first I painted, and my French Fry Fanatic Necklace and Tiny French Fry Love Tote. These last two went to a three-year-old girl who happily donned the necklace immediately. I heard a lot of nice comments about my work, others not so nice. Such is the gamble of presenting to the public.

Popo Flannigan, my neighbor, stopped by to say hello. You may recall that she is a landscape painter and dubs her body of work "Smileville." It was nice to see a friendly face.  Incredibly, a couple of first-time craft fair vendors asked me for advice. They wanted to know which shows to do, and what sort of earnings constituted a good show. Although I've done about a dozen shows and have a dozen more on deck, I still haven't a clue as to the secret of craft show success. But I smiled and said I could email them lists of shows I'd done, along with contact info and entrance fees.

My parents came once again. Always my champions, they made a purchase before circling the grounds to browse the other vendors. They found a charming painted gourd birdhouse to hang in their garden.

Five o' clock eventually rolled around, and I began to pack up my wares. Then the bf came to break down the tent, and we headed home to clean up before going out to dinner. There is nothing as nice as being clean and eating a delicious, civilized restaurant meal after a grueling day beneath the big top.

Next stop, Brigantine Summerfest at the Presbyterian Church next Saturday. 

I hear they have a dunk tank.