Do you know the depressed Alan Rickman robot from the 2005 film "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy"? Well, that's how I was yesterday. The stall assigned to me was #20, which happens to be right in front of the smoking section of the pub. (In New Zealand, there's no smoking inside pubs.) I requested a change, and though Arts Marketing promised they would switch me, I hadn't heard back and I was worried. Today, though, I was told I"ll be #5, so all is good.
It's finally The Day Before, and I'm philosophical. I"m not sure what your practices are, but in New Zealand, artists are strongly recommended not to undercut gallery prices when selling directly to the public, so I wanted to have a wee chat with Jay at the Red. Whenever I see her, there seems to be at least a dozen scarves I want to weave just because the gallery is so lovely and she is so encouraging. Afterwards, I was looking at books on designs of everyday things, while waiting for Ben to finish work. That's when a thought came to me as to why and when I started thinking about arts vs craft.
I didn't have a catalytic moment, but after I started this weaving thing, because it was so different from the kind of office jobs I had previously, I sought friendship of people who have been in the art business. And since I worked at the local Polytech, the Visual Arts School teachers were easy targets. The Polytech is still restructuring, which started in February 1999, so none of them teach there any more, and they of course don't think or talk about art all the time, but when I do see them at openings, for examples, they have educated observations and opinions, and can elaborate if required. I'm thinking these encounters got me started.
I was also wondering what to weave after tomorrow. I have plenty of design inspirations, and I also have three commissions, but I wondered what I wanted to weave, as suddenly, for no reason, the world seemed saturated with scarves, and I hesitated to add more to scarves to the world, as if that'd be the scarf that broke the camel's neck, if you get the picture.
I know I'm tired; my mind keeps wandering in strange directions, but I'm relieved I got here finally. Weavers have not had good luck this summer at market and fair stalls, so I'm not expecting to sell, but I wouldn't mind talking to a few people about weaving, and/or seeing friends whom I neglected for the last 14 months. It'd be good; I'll let you know how it goes.