An Opening Follow-Up

The only thing that makes me feel better (when I'm incapable of drawing) is writing.... So consider this a heads-up.

The Art Center has my apologies for being the 'artist' it assumed would be a good gallery draw. I have failed it.

My gallery opening was so bad that I jokingly asked the handful of attendees that trickled in that afternoon to please sign my guestbook at least twice just to make me feel like less of a failure.

It wasn't for lack of trying. I'd hyped the whole thing on Social Media. I'd sent MULTIPLE invites out to family, friends, and fans online. Larry organized an incredible event with printed programs and platters of fruits and cheeses and crackers, and even a vase of fresh flowers! And he even commented ahead of time that we should wait to unlock the gallery doors at the last moment to drum up anticipation. "Make 'em wait in the hall to be surprised!," he said. So I knew he was expecting Great Things. It made me wonder if his expectations could possibly be justified! I was already anxious. I hadn't slept for days, going over in my head the presentation I would give when it was my turn to introduce myself and say a few words about my work.

There was a printed program!

But I needn't have worried. The event was so ill-attended that it was laughable. And afterwards I took Larry aside and thanked him for putting together the reception in my honor. And I apologized for being such a disappointment to him and the Art Center. It was all I could do not to cry....

I went over it all in my head. I reminded myself that it WAS summer after all. And even though the day was rainy, it shouldn't have surprised me that few would care to spend it -- a Saturday in July in Minnesota -- indoors at a gallery opening. And again I berated myself for having the balls to think mine was an event worthy of anyone's attention. Take THAT, Ego!

But ignore all of the above for a moment.

Bottom line: I regarded this gallery thing as my introduction (finally!) to my fellow artists at the Art Center, who all think of me as the Leaf Lady who draws kooky faces on leaves. In October I will have been at the Center for three years (if I remember correctly) and yet I still feel like a Newbie there. Like the dorky kid still hoping for a seat at the Cool Table. And I thought this was my opportunity to say to them all, "I may draw on leaves now, but I'm so much more than this, see? Can I be an artist with you guys?"

And fresh flowers!

The handful of attendees at my opening included a couple strangers and a family that I'm friends with. No one was there that I danced with in my Eeyore jammies at the Art-a-Thon. No one was there that I've shared space with at the Studio Crawls. No one was there from the other gallery events that I've attended. No one was there from the Art Center at all, except for Larry (the host).

And Paul.

Paul Boecher is an incredible artist who teaches at the Art Center. His was the gallery opening that originally set the bar for me. (A presentation! a crowd!, a reading! live music!....) And like everyone else, he had no reason to take time out of his summer Saturday to come see my work. But he did. And when he showed up, it put tears in my eyes. He looked at my work and then talked about it with me. There's SO DANG MUCH I don't know about art, and Paul was kind enough to point out things I was doing that I wasn't even aware that I was doing. Things associated with 'design elements' and 'repetitive line' and other stuff I am completely unfamiliar with. Things I like to tell myself I would've learned had I been fortunate enough to go to Art School. He made it sound like I'm fancier than I am, more than just someone who likes to draw. It was a humbling conversation....

When the afternoon was mercifully over, I made James take me out for a drink. We talked about it for a bit (or he listened while I talked about it for a bit) and then I went home and curled up inside myself. The hubris! What was I thinking?

The show is open for another few weeks. And I should be there daily to share my work with the occasional Art Center visitor who stumbles upon my display and may want to meet the artist. But I've been unable to return to the gallery. I don't want to look at the art that wasn't worth celebrating, does that make sense?....

Someone recently shared a quote with me: "Instead of asking yourself, 'why is this happening to me?', try asking, 'what is this trying to teach me?'" And I have been thinking about this. Every day. And one of the things I'm learning is: just because someone is Family, a friend, a fan, a customer, a member of my 'tribe', or someone from the community I've personally called Home almost all my adult life, I cannot assume that I deserve to be a blip on their radar. They have their own priorities, and not everything is about Me.

And the other things I'm learning: I apparently have to work much harder on my friendship skills. I have to try harder to be more approachable and more likeable. I have to try working with my studio door open, even though I cannot work that way. (I can't; I've tried.)

And I have to ask myself if I'll ever really be a good Art Center fit....

...

A BIG P.S.: If you were one of the few people there, you have my heart in spades. I love you to the moon and back. Thank you.