The Birth Story of the Starving Artist Expo

I was sitting in my living room one January day pondering how much ridiculously harder it is to earn a paycheck as an artist than most every other job in the world.  I mean, at Taco Bell you at least know you make a few dollars per hour.  As an artist (or any small business owner really), you always run the risk that you are paying the world to work.  Some months its more beneficial to stay in bed.

So, as I was turning this topic over in my head- not regretfully or woefully, but in solution seeking mode- I decided I wanted to do a show.  However, there are no shows in January.  The weather is awful.  People's cards are maxed out.  It's cold and dark. But I needed one to look forward to and work towards.

So I thought, well, maybe I could do just a small show.  One here, at home.  It could be like my debut show, my first as a full time artist.  And then James Schroeder walked in- he does that once or twice a week- and I asked him if he would consider doing it with me- because James is an artist and is always looking for work and opportunities to sell.  We are completely different people but much of our lives align merely due to the fact that we are both starving artists.  He said yes.

Then I thought, well, maybe some other people would want to join.  Who else needs work?  My painter friend Sasha Egorova is always wanting to do shows.  I bet she would be onboard.  And she has a friend, Nadia, that I don't know so well, but I know paints (she also works as a graphic designer) and Nadia lives by me so I will invite her.  Maybe she will come.

Then I remembered a girl that works on Broad Street.  She graduated from Berry a few years after me and I met her at an art show where I bought some jewelry from her.  She works at a handmade jewelry store and dances professionally.  She's definitely a starving artist.  She told me she was always looking for more shows to do.  So, I added her to my list.

And then the list grew.

Now, let me just say that my house is little.  I thought, ok, we will have five people.  Ten people tops.  This is a small show.  This is a house show.  Eight people will be plenty.

I sent out my invites, thinking some would participate and some would not.  People have conflicts.  People have other commitments.

Everyone replied yes.  Every. Single. Person.

We had 13 artists on the list to display at my small house.

But, (luckily) my imagination is not small and my inability to be reasonable is miniscule when it comes to expanding, event growth and good old make it the best it can be attitude.  Go the extra mile.  110%.  Give it your all.  Then keep going.

I'm a product of two way too intelligent parents (they are smarter than me.)  I like to say I'm the dumbest person in my family.  It's true. Educational ranking systems such as SAT scores, education level and GPAs verify this.  I'm not saying I'm dumb, I'm just saying I grew up around really freaking smart people.

I also did cross country.  The most grueling sport.  Run a really long way and use every ounce of energy you have is the whole idea of the sport.  Running is 10% physical and 90% mental.

Then I did the HCA thing for 6 years (not to mention applying my head, heart and hands at Berry College prior to that).  Their motto is do more with nothing and beat every competitor in the entire world.  So, that was some nice character forming experience.

Thus, I would never cut back on the size of the event.  That would be counterintuitive to my very nature.  Even though it started in my mind as a one or two person house show.  A house festival sounded way cooler anyway.  An exposition.  This was to be an event of events.

Every great event starts with a theme.  It guides the entire progression of planning details.  It determines the whowhatwhenwherewhyhow.  And our theme was clear.  We were starving artists that needed to be exposed.  And thus the Starving Artist Expo was born.

And Lisa went into event planning mode.

I am a planner.  I just am.  I always have been.  It may have to do with being car-less for the first 20 years of my life.  Ages zero-14 it didn't really matter.  But when you start needing to go places, do things, accomplish things and you live in a car society and parents are so earth conscious that they won't drive you to places because its within a mile or two walking distance (a teenager walk somewhere? How embarrassing.) or carpooling will save the ozone so figure it out, you have to start concocting deals and elaborate plans to get to where you need to be.  So that means networking.  And being ready 10 minutes before its time to go.  And being creative.  Let me just say that I never had to destroy the ozone by asking my parents to pick me up from my 6 hour away college.  I ALWAYS found a ride to and from school.  Even if it meant waiting in parking lots halfway between here and there with my luggage and stuffed gorilla Gilly.  Or if it meant coming on weird days at weird times with weird people. I always made my way.

So, I figured since we had all these people, I might as well treat it as I would an event at the hospital or one of the events I help plan for the boards and committees I work with.  I mean, why not?  It's mine and the boss I'm trying to make happy is me so let's do it up right. Bring on the press, the print materials, the graphic design, the logos, the radio stations, facebook, youtube, whatever.  Let's do it.  The works.  This is what makes my heart sing and stomach flip like its on a roller coaster.  I plan. I publicize.  I promote.  And I love it.

And I loooove art so it's the perfect mix.

We started planning, working out details and we made a video.  As soon as we made that video, it was like the event was alive.  All of a sudden, people were contacting me asking me how they could be involved, how they could join the group, how they could become a member and how they can get in touch with the starving artists.

Then we were in the paper. Front page. Above the fold.

People offered to volunteer.  People offered to play music at our event.  For free.  Strangers at that.  Our local arts council gave us money to help with the costs of the event.

Then I had people asking me to promote their event at my event.  Someone sent me a meeting planner for the event.  I guess just to get it on their calendar.  They blocked 9am - 4pm.  Not sure why.  It started at noon.

We were in the paper three times and were interviewed on three radio stations.  This was despite my narcolspy and amnesia causing me to forget to show up at one of the stations.  Firing the kiln until 3 am after glazing for 11 hours and teaching for 3 after traveling 3 time zones is no excuse.

We came in .97 cents under budget.  I wanted balloons for the mailbox but restrained myself.  But then an artist offered to pick some up at Kroger and so I cracked and let him.  But then he wouldn't let me pay him back.  I wanted to cry.  It was really nice.  And I stayed within budget.  (Good since my first HCA boss Leanne Klarner told me I would get my head chopped off if I went over budget.  Not sure if she was kidding still to this day.)

My hubby and I took all our flat surface decorations, knicknacks and wares out of the main level, packed them in a suitcase and put them in the basement.  We removed furniture to make space.  We turned the couch and the rug artistically to create ambiance and flow.

I was as giddy as a child before Christmas the day before the event.  I couldn't sleep so I sang my husband this song about the weirdest things on earth in a lullaby format.  I woke up Saturday bouncing saying "It's here! It's here!"

At 12:02- two minutes past go time- I panicked.  Not one person was here that wasn't related to an artist.  The only item on my week's to do list uncrossed out was to send out a final reminder email.  This must be the cause.  So, I figured I better go do that.  I did.

Then the people came.

My house was swarmed.  To explain this I will use a specific example as I learned was the proper way for making the reader feel as if they are right there in the story experiencing it.

I have these wooden swinging doors to my basement.  They are directly beneath my screened porch.  We opened them before the event.  I went to close them and they would not close.  I pulled and yanked and finally freed them but it was not the usual sequence of events when closing these doors.  I realized it was the weight in the house that made the floor sink and rest upon the doors, therefore not letting them close.  That was when I realized this was real.

Every time I walked outside, more people were walking up, cars were lined all up and down our road, and new faces I had never seen before were hanging out in my yard. They would cycle through the house, shop, try on, look in my mirror, find treasures, exclaim over my screened porch, enjoy some food, pay and head out.

We took out the trash four times.  Refilled the food that was ravaged.  Explained what was happening to the police.  To which he replied "I used to do art."

These are all normal event occurrences.  I'm sure no one else wondered at them as I did.  People remarked on the good turn out.  The great art. And the nice weather and atmosphere.  But that was all surface talk.  To me, this event was a baby.  My baby.  It was as if I experienced an event coming to light for the first time.  Every other event I've planned has been someone else's.  Another's conception.  The 6th annual that I'm taking over.  A redo of another hospitals' bash.

But this was mine.  In my house.  At my say with every ounce of the last two month's worth of energy poured into it.  As people delighted in the artists' creations and paid fair prices for them my heart just grew five times over.  Some of these talented artists had never done a show before.  A husband and wife participated and the Expo pushed them to name their business (The Hook and Hammer, she crochets- he makes wood furniture).  They had new shiny business cards and gorgeous work.  And did this while raising seven adorable kids and home schooling several of them.  If that is not inspiring, I don't know what is.

A couple memories I want to document so I don't forget them:

-My dog barreling through the open door seeking refuge in her home when the neighbor boy took pity on her from looking quite dissatisfied at being penned in his backyard for the day.  There were only 50 people in the house at that point in time and I only minorly freaked out at her intrusion.  But my heart was happy that she ran for her home.
-My friend Sasha so excited that she sold a still life painting.  She also bounces when she's happy.  Her husband does not get excited. He was excited.
-We collected three tubs full of canned goods.  This will supply Impact Church with food for their homeless ministry for several weeks.  It will help those who truly face the threat of hunger- more so if we do not continue to help those less fortunate.

So, in addition to the canned goods collected, if the event inspired even one person to pursue their artistic passion, it was more than worth it.  Even if we hadn't sold a thing.  (But I'm glad we did sell lots of things!)  I'm the happiest person alive because I do art and am able to pour my soul into it.  I want people to know they can find that happiness- even though they have to fight for it and work doubly hard.  It is worth it.  And it continues to give for years and years in health, attitude, relationships, perspective and self worth.

Now I have approximately six months to think about how I want to expose Starving Artists in 2013 and then I'm going to start planning for next year's event- with the help of a committee.  I'll just tell you that it will have a few more artists- not a lot more- but a few more, the venue will not be limited to just my home and it will be in March.  If you want to be on the mailing list for show information as an artist email starvingartistexpo@gmail.com.  If you want to be alerted of the show and other events, join my mailing list here.

Thank you to all our supporters, artists and patrons.

Love,
Lisa

Bonnie making signs at the check out table prior to the event.

One of my bowls on Nate Chamber's wood coffee tables.

Things starting to get busy inside. That's me in the polk-a-dots.

Hook and Hammer goods with Toby's work in the background.

Stephanie Kipfer and her jewelry and handbags.

The Hook and the Hammer (aka Mindy and Gorg)

Sasha, Nadia and James' paintings.  My pottery and flowers by my friend Janda Canalis.

AJ Pierce on the Piano

Ryan Smith's Photography

Sasha and Toby

Callie Cramer and Me

Our little house.