So Glorious and Complex

Yesterday was stupendously beautiful and full of everything, and very ironic. My sales were high, and in retrospect I think it was largely students from the UO and other schools who were out for their last market experience, or maybe first, before they leave town. I also had some Father's Day buying, for certain, and just many delighted people who were happy to find something useful in the bright hot sun and steady gusty breeze to keep their hair out of their eyes.

I don't have the energy right now to get into analyzing all of the irony, but it was thick and again I feel how diminished some of us are with this constant defending of our rights to think and speak freely without danger to our livelihoods. I noticed it after I actually gave in to a pushy man who wanted a discount for two hats, and was incredibly persistent. He succeeded in pushed me into fawning mode to get him to go away and that $5 was worth it, but did leave me with a sour taste for the first sale of the day. 

I have a lot of arguments against that type of person and I used a few on him. His wife was on my side. I wish I had stood my ground. Subsequent encounters with similar entitled men left me troubled on the whole, though I had many more visits with sweet and generous, wonderful people who were not like that at all. I see this as part of the cumulative damage that robs us of our agency as we struggle for our personal rights within the retaliatory atmosphere. Any negative encounter seems magnified, and we struggle to stay grounded within other people's disbelief and lack of acknowledgement of what we are certainly feeling, as if we were just creating drama as we are accused of doing. Nope. I have the receipts. 

One of my former friends made an effort to engage with me, I guess to prove how he could play the middle, but again, it didn't feel like support or friendship. I saw his other actions during the day. I can set my opinion aside to let him figure things out over time, but our friendship is over, even if he doesn't accept it. And we can't have the clarifying conversation, not now, and maybe not ever. A universe apart.

And there's a new book about the market, filled with things that represent what I see as a false reality. That person is great at micro aggressions but I actually don't think he knows it. In his author photo he is wearing one of the misprinted hats I stupidly gave members one year, with the market logo so mangled I couldn't even color it to save it. I thought people would wear them in their shops or something, realizing promoting the market or another artist with flawed items is not good for business or public relations, but he has persisted in wearing his. And there it is in a published market "history." 

I'll let go of my criticisms of his take for now as he has a right to his version of our shared reality, but in his last book, after I told him not to write about me, after a protracted set of discussions, he did use my name, and said I sold "hats made in China." Regardless of the effects on me, and the boundary violation, how can he think that is good for market? Yes, my hat bodies are imported, just like t-shirts and many other items that are embellished with craft techniques and safely within the guidelines. But my product has been a target for decades now, because it sells well and is mainstream and popular. So instead of honoring that by wearing a spiffy quality item on his head, there he is. Not a big deal, but history is history. I never want to imagine that people do this kind of thing on purpose, but as we know, some do.

I don't love it when I do well and other market members don't. One of the people I spoke with yesterday made nothing. Went into the negative, actually, as they still had to pay a fee and had paid that $10 a day for reserve and membership. That doesn't say healthy market to me. It's nothing they are doing wrong, either. Their work is expert, they have a variety of low and high-cost items, and they are dressed up and standing and responsive. It wasn't their crowd, for whatever reasons, like it was mine. But it should work for everyone. Their customers weren't being marketed to. 

There are always so many reasons for why we do or don't do well in sales in any particular moment. For me, that first sale threw me off but I quickly got back into gratitude and joy mode by going over to farmers to spend some money. I firmly believe in spreading money around and personally I rarely take discounts and would never ask for one. People set their prices where they are for good reasons.

Everyone has their contributions to make. Those of us still packing on the west block had the eminent  Walker T. Ryan playing and singing for us! I went right over there and thanked him properly, and patiently listened as he told me where all the best open mics are, in a discussion of how our busking policies are hard on musicians. I don't think he really knew who I was, but it was warm and a sweet addition to those fading moments as the day is over too soon for the energy. The drums went late.

It was a full week and this one will be crammed with work and thought, and writing I hope. If nothing else, yesterday was alive with mystery and excitement. A hummingbird visited Dave's (sadly, empty) feeders and he said, had to settle for the real flowers he brings to help sell his products. It then zipped through the booth across from me and narrowly missed me, and was later seen drinking from the fountain. It went by so fast I couldn't tell what it was even. And we had goldfinches, and more, and as I set off for home, up Park Street, one of the last few members to leave, a Great Blue Heron flew over me. I'll take that as auspicious.

Have a great weekend everyone. I plan a lot of rest and weeding today, and then if we get that rain, more weeding after it. I've been moving plants around and might get a vine maple. They are such lovely trees and if there is one in my neighborhood, I haven't seen it. I'd gladly even cut down one of my ancient lilacs, or consider it anyway. I have five of them. They do frame my front porch but they're not looking wonderful and pruning is becoming harder for me. 

Not dead yet, though! Full of joy.