Several things were good.
(1) You can always count on the visitors, employees and owners of Utica Square to put on a most impressive impromptu car show:
(2) Setting up was a breez– (oh, don’t say that word..) — It was easy!
(3) The crowd was loving it!
(4) Lots of people talked to me about lots of things.. One gentleman wanted to talk to me about energetic rocks, and whether I felt anything from the stones at Kansas Stonehenge. (well, I think I did..) A charming woman with purple eyeshadow had a photo of a lighthouse and wanted to know the best way to print it as large as mine. Someone from OSU Communications wanted to see more of my Oklahoma State photos for “possible use”! I was also invited to do a demonstration for a local art group!
I sold half the amount I did last year, which was half the amount from the year before that.
The crowd showed up and said good things, but hardly anybody bought anything. After my booth fee and gas, I broke even. (ha, “broke” even..)
It was my turn to face the inevitable.
Fighting the wind has been the running theme throughout the past art festival season: Stillwater was my first use of water weights. Edmond provided 55-gallon barrels for everybody. At Lawton I had to stake my panels to the earth without the surrounding booth. Blue Dome was relatively peaceful, but the wind threat was always there. Paseo lost several tents to 60-mph winds, but even though I didn’t use any weights at all, I came out smelling like roses! OCCC had a gigantic disaster, but once again, I was fine — I was staked to the earth six different ways.
Here at Utica, they’ve given me the same booth location for three years. I’ve always set up in the same fashion — seven panels, one on each side, support bars at an angle. Seemed to work for two years, how about we give it another go!
I had everything tied down:
It turns out that the facade of Pottery Barn Kids will catch even the slightest breeze, amplify it, and sling it directly at whatever is in on the sidewalk. That day, my booth happened to be in the way. The breeze picked up, the weights turned into wrecking balls, and the rest is history:
The inevitable aftermath:
Suffice to say I couldn’t go out and celebrate like I usually do after an art festival. This was the finest cuisine I could afford at the moment: