The other day, I felt a little off. Every hour seemed to bring a different emotional obstacle. Usually when this happens, I stop and think about the time of year and the subliminal moodiness it might bring. Weekends are often challenging for those who’ve experienced widowhood, no matter how long ago, and one’s current situation, but holiday weekends can be especially filled with memories of special events and “rituals” that are impossible to ignore, or deny.
I met my late-husband, Rich, through the art show circuit, which usually engulfed most weekends, even holiday seasons. I was a full-time working artist, and Rich, a talented wood carver, who at the time was assisting a fine artist, the late Frank Hulick. Frank was getting on in age and needed a “roadie” to help him set up, sell, and then dismantle his display, one of the most grueling parts of the process.
Frank introduced me to Rich during an event, and before long, through my affiliation with both, I was juried into one of the best outdoor art shows at the New Jersey Shore, if not the entire state. It was an honor to be accepted into the Seaside Park Art Show, a venue that at the time was very competitive. People came from all over just to meet their favorite artists. I earned my spot in my own right, and would return there for thirty consecutive years. Not only was it a great time to be a working artist, but throughout three decades, I watched couples get engaged, marry, and got to see their families grow and add my artwork to their own homes.
Rich and I looked forward to that show at the end of each summer. At the Jersey Shore, the Labor Day Holiday is sacred. There were a few times when the remnants of hurricanes caused the show to be cancelled, but for the most part, we enjoyed blue skies, sun and warm breezes.
It makes me smile when I see some of my art show colleagues still selling their artwork at these events, but also brings some sadness as some of my fellow-artists, and their spouses, are no longer with us. Two in particular come to mind as I write.
I don’t miss the rigorous routine of that lifestyle. The physical challenges of setting up a 10 by 10 tent, building my display and then hanging artwork. At the time I was taking on a lot of commissioned work, shipping artwork, supplying local shops and galleries and participating in at least two art events a month. I loved meeting my customers and creating art for them, however, I missed weddings and family reunions and we even scheduled our own wedding around the high-show season of September.
Like so many things, however, that show’s management changed and to fill spaces, work that was so obviously NOT handmade began to infiltrate. That, and the fact that Rich and I were planning a move soon found me retiring from the art show world. My display booth remains in storage up in my Georgia home.
I don’t think I have the energy and desire to return to the weekend art show “pop-up” scene, but just this past week, I shipped a piece of artwork north, the first time in many years. I’ve begun to paint again, slowly, and I’ve considered selling my work at some coastal towns here in Florida. Here are some images of paintings from past years and works-in-progress.
Happy Labor Day Weekend. Rich was a proud member of the Amalgamated Lithorgraphers of America (ALA) labor union established in 1915 to serve those working in the lithography industry including those working in the printing and publishing realms. He enjoyed a long career in those industries and made life-long friends and colleagues. Labor Day is a “Workman’s Holiday” with a long and interesting history. May all wage-earners gain the respect of their employers and those they serve.
