OPS was OTH...

or, that's what I'd write if i was very good text-er, or twittered, or felt remotely part of the being-out-there world that exists, but jeeze-louise, Open Studios was off the hook! Crazy busy, good, fun, overwhelming (bring me a thesaurus!).

So blown away was I that, when the first night was over, I got home, sat down on the edge of the tub, put my head in my hands, and cried.

The most common question asked of me: where do you get all this stuff?

Sometimes, it felt (in a good way) like being asked a fairly personal question.
'Cuz the truth is, 'where do you get all this stuff?' is such a general, innocuous question. I prefer to think they're asking, 'who the hell are you?!' but in a really polite, culturally-popular way. Sometimes I answer, 'everywhere you can think of' and, sometimes, I can see it in their eyes, they want more and I answer, 'ha! gads! you wanna see something amazing i just found?!' and I pull out the latest great-find. And, if I think they're really, really into it, well, we usually both end up talking about our good finds over the years.

I started to think about all the people, all the strange, interesting, wacky, wonderful, full-of-it and super humble, curious and cute people, that I've met through Open Studios. And that thought blossomed into how many people I meet or interact with in any given week.... but then I stuck with just this past weekend of Open Studios, and realized that generates a pretty big swath in itself. I had so many conversations with so many people, I talked myself hoarse.

I talked to one woman about 1,000 different things we'd made with all the crazy things we'd found on the street; another guy about how much he loved his typewriter, the way I love mine; I finally met an artist who did the Residency at the dump (something I aspire to in a huge way) and he told me all about the heaven that I've always imagined it to be; I met a couple who had seen my work in my old studio and knew they'd found me when they saw my new work on the walls--"I can see you in your work, I knew we'd found you..."; had a fun back and forth with a guy who I gave cards to and he brought me two old, used books the next day; I had one woman come back for the second time that first night and sit me down, asking me all these "deeply personal" questions she had after looking at my work and my studio (i told her there's not many things that are that personal to me). That was interesting & challenging, in a very important way, to say the least. With that woman, and another wanting to take photos of me alongside the wall of work, it felt like one big, ridiculous, personal validation.

Sure I started off the weekend in tears, but I ended it ready to do it all over again!
Strange maybe, but these are the only pictures I took for the entire three, long, people-filled days.