Et Voila!

Among other body parts, I really value my legs. I love biking, love hauling my stuff to market without a car. This was the second year I loaded into Holiday Market with my trailer, and this time it took four loads, kinda sorta, instead of the six from last year. But I ended up taking one little load piled on my bike, and then this week took one more, so it's still six, really.

I have the same amount of merchandise as last year, though it is displayed a bit more compactly and is easier to browse. My sales for the first weekend were double what they were last year, and we shall see if that is just an anomaly or some kind of trend. Nothing is for certain, says the 8-ball.

For the record, I am not the only vendor who is human-powered. Raven got all of his stuff there in one load, just like every Saturday of the season. Kimberly still used her wagon and walked a little farther. Brandi and Nat admitted they got a ride for one load since it was pouring out, but they walked the rest of it in. Michael had a disaster and ended up having to walk 4 1/2 miles dragging his cart/booth up the road when his trailer broke.

Elise came for this second weekend, and said it took her three loads. We love our haulers, built here in Eugene by Human Powered Machines (The Hauler).

There were probably others. I asked the soap lady, after reading in the Weekly that she delivers by bike, and she wants to, when she gets a trailer. Next to her at HM, Tyler with the steampunk accessories walked his booth and wares in. There are at least a dozen people who always or most of the time set up for Market without a car. We're thankful that we can!

I took the full nine hours to set up, as usual. I had spent an unknown amount of time making the wall display, and thinking about the arrangement of the racks and shelves, and still had to wing it on a few of the ideas I had. I used a lot of zip ties. The baskets came and went and arrived again on Sunday to fill an empty space. Goodness knows I don't want any empty spaces. I took a few more sticks and arranged them to fill the empty spaces in my hat racks. Goodness knows I wouldn't want to leave anything home.

It's a relief to have some open space in my studio again, and I'm looking forward to the winter months when I will get some scarves made. I'm still hoping to finish the ones I started last spring, tulips and birds and other springlike designs. I like having scarves at the show, even if I don't sell any. People like to feel them and want them and it's an entry into a different art form for me just to put them out there. This week I made them more visible and added some more display, so will take more pictures on Friday. Yes, it's Buy Nothing Day, but long ago we decided that it was okay to support local artists on that day without being an ugly Amurrican Consumer. Rationalization for the win.

For my really old age I hope to have less production stuff and more art items. The scarves are light and beautiful and maybe they are the way to go. I may also handpaint shirts, though the price limits on clothing are a problem. I ended up hand-painting the spadicies (spadixes?) on my new Calla Lily design because the yellow print just didn't work, turned out too greenish with the black of the shirt showing through. It took a few hours. I toyed with the idea of hand-painting the flowers, and did one (the shirt had a hole in it anyway, so nothing to lose), but I just don't think I can add $20 to the shirt price and still sell them. Might need a fancier type of shirt or something. I'll work on that. I could use my sewing skills and get some hempy drapey things, although that rough fabric would cause problems. I really like the idea of printing and then hand-painting over it, so will probably develop a product using that to see if I can make it work for me. I have to do less printing, but I'm not sure more handwork hunched over my table using a pinch grip on a small utensil will be an appropriate technological solution for aging.

There's always retirement, though I can't even imagine how I would manage that. It definitely won't happen if they change the social security age to 65. I guess they wouldn't do that for those of us who are almost there, that would be too cruel, and get the old folks riled up. We can be a big problem when we get riled up.

Okay, off to Thanksgiving dinner. Because the sun is out and it's daytime, I will put the three pies into boxes and bungee them onto my bike. I can, therefore I will.

And it rained some more

Yes it rained hard on us on the last Market day but it was still rewarding, and I still found some small treasures, Ziggy's pigs and Mary's wonderful sense of humor. I had some new hats, but still haven't managed to get the screens to come out for my new design (will try for the fourth time today...)

I feel like the Tea Party of the OCF...no fee increase! Squawk, screech! I recognized the tenor of my emotional response and tried then to look for the origins. Discounting the part about them being invented and controlled by a megacorporate propaganda machine, I think the Teapartiers come from a place of fear and lack of control of their lives...so am I afraid? What am I afraid of?

Naturally as I am aging I fear the loss of my ability to stand tall on my own two feet. It's one of my core values. So increasing costs on every front scare me, more so when I have no control over them. I want to be part of the process that decides how to allocate my money, which is my most scarce resource. It's hard to get and easy to spend and I want to be the one holding the purse strings.

It helps to feel like I have other people in my boat who are also noticing the leaks...we won't sink if we stick together. We wouldn't want to waste our time deciding who should jump out and swim, so all the rest of us can stay dry a little longer. We would all bail, make new sails, and do whatever we could do to stay afloat.

I think the reason the OCF didn't get my support for raising more revenue is that they didn't ask me to participate in the effort, and they seemed not to spend enough time carefully thinking about how to justify spending more when it is so obviously a time of belt-tightening. The level at which they donate money is beyond my comfort level, because they have so many avenues for it and it seems far too casual, too easy for them to spend other people's money. No one ever thinks that because I sell at the OCF I am part of the philanthropy and goodwill the organization creates in the community. I'm seen as something like a parasite, that I profit from the Fair, take my money and go home, as if I hadn't actually lent the fair my energies by making it my workplace for a time, and sharing my heart and soul there with all who cared to notice. I work so hard out there it about drives me over the edge, physically, mentally, and emotionally. I do it for the money, in part, but also because that is the best way I can contribute to what makes it wonderful. I do my best.

Really it's all a balance problem, a perception issue. I don't feel honored enough, so I don't want to honor others, then they don't feel honored enough. Actually at base I am grateful to the Board people and the volunteers and I know that most of them do it from the goodness of their hearts. What free meals and hang-out time on the site that they get is earned from the time they put in trying to make hard decisions, in the best way possible. It might be their perception that the booth people don't want to participate in the board's work, since we often don't, and when we do it is usually with criticism. So all of us are not really operating at the level we intend to be, since we all really do feel ownership and great love for the Fair organization and event. We have to remember to see each other's underlying needs and humanity. We know it's there, but we forget.

How to fix it? I'd like the Board to be the leader in a drive to shift thinking so we all really do feel like we're in it together and working for the same goals. I'd like some kind of statement that my survival is a high priority, that my gifts are valued, and that there is an effort to give me more for my money. I have indeed felt this at times in the last few years. It's easier to get in with my stuff, less hassling over whether or not I deserve to drive in. Nobody criticizes the number of day passes I need. Craft inventory crew has been entirely lovely to work with for the last several years, and registration too, for the most part.

So it seems that I want some kind of emotional care in the situation, which is of course a somewhat excessive need for the conditions and makes me come off as irrational. I get irrational in times of overwork and high passion, so there is a certain amount of irrationality that just comes with the Fair. That's why my letter to the Board seemed over-the-top, and why it is serving as a catalyst for some kind of philosophical catharsis on the issues of "us vs. them," and why I got no responses whatsoever from any of the Board individuals. Other craftspeople were able to relate, and Craft inventory volunteers, but no one at "the top" seemed to get it. They seemed embarrassed and shamed, which was not my intention, but resulted from my passionate sharing of my emotions.

This is not just an OCF problem, at this time in my life. I'm also having a lot of issues with another organization essential to me, not the Saturday Market, fortunately. If it weren't for the stability and solidity of SM at this time, I would feel really lost. So, to keep things in place, I have to remember to breathe, trust, look around and see what is being offered in the way of comfort and fellowship, and remember that it is all small stuff in my small life.

My sort-of mother in law, Hope Martin, died this weekend. She was 95, and sitting with her body was very comforting. All the ways I served her and failed her and loved her and didn't are set aside now, are history. Just as all the ways I have celebrated, created, been silly or over-emotional or unfair or divinely inspired, will all at some point be history. There's no reason to be afraid about things. Fear just makes lines in our faces and hard places in our hearts. Hope lay with flowers and throughout the day her smile grew sweeter and her fears dissipated into the autumn air. People I sometimes argue with shared food and stories and were a small family for a short time, and not much mattered in the big picture. Certainly not money.

Money can't matter so much. When did it gain so much importance? It doesn't really even exist except as a medium of exchange. Let's exchange other things.

Thank you to all who love the Oregon Country Fair and who try to improve it and sustain it. You are forgiven for the times you fail to understand every little thing. You are forgiven for the times you seem to dismiss me or not give me what I think I need. I am small and you are big, so forgive me for acting big and making you feel small. Let's stay in balance, let's stay rational, and let's build on our great affection. Someday I'll be looking down on my hands holding the last flowers of summer and I certainly don't want everyone to sigh with relief that I will no longer be a thorn in their sides.

I'm just doing the best that I can, like everyone else. I see you out there doing your best. Thanks.