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offcntrI have a theory.
It has to do with why my work is suddenly so popular. I mean, I sold reasonably well in the before times, but lately... I mean, take Saturday. I almost didn't come down to Market at all; the weather was again crappy, and I still had fifty bowls to glaze at the studio. The only reason I felt obliged was because another vendor was picking up an order for his daughter. So I set up reasonably dry, dealt with rain showers all day and a wet tent at take-down--
--and sold just under a thousand dollars.
What's going on?
Oh, it could be the Farmer's Market has returned to its newly built home, right across the street, bringing more bodies to the Park Blocks, but not that many more. It could be that my work is just so darn irresistible (yeah, right).
No, I think it's the pandemic. After a weird and scary couple of years, I think we're craving comfort. Comfort foods. Comfy clothes. Familiar, comfort reading. And I think my pottery, with its array of friendly and whimsical animals, is comfortable.
Case in point: in previous years, a lot of my demographic was grandmothers. Older folks nostalgic for charming critter pots that reminded them of Beatrix Potter. Unfortunately, that was also the demographic that wasn't buying new things, was in fact trying to get rid of stuff. Garnered lots of compliments, only occasionally sales, for gifts.
I'm selling a lot more to younger folks, these days; not only that, I've got college freshmen picking up my card, promising to come back in the fall when they move into their first apartment. I am, abruptly, trendy. And I think it's because my work calls to something in them that wishes for safer, softer times.
Eh, maybe I'm completely out in left field. But I gotta say, it feels nice to be making connections with a new generation. They're really good kids, thoughtful, interested, and interesting to talk to. Makes me want to keep doing this stuff.
It has to do with why my work is suddenly so popular. I mean, I sold reasonably well in the before times, but lately... I mean, take Saturday. I almost didn't come down to Market at all; the weather was again crappy, and I still had fifty bowls to glaze at the studio. The only reason I felt obliged was because another vendor was picking up an order for his daughter. So I set up reasonably dry, dealt with rain showers all day and a wet tent at take-down--
--and sold just under a thousand dollars.
What's going on?
Oh, it could be the Farmer's Market has returned to its newly built home, right across the street, bringing more bodies to the Park Blocks, but not that many more. It could be that my work is just so darn irresistible (yeah, right).
No, I think it's the pandemic. After a weird and scary couple of years, I think we're craving comfort. Comfort foods. Comfy clothes. Familiar, comfort reading. And I think my pottery, with its array of friendly and whimsical animals, is comfortable.
Case in point: in previous years, a lot of my demographic was grandmothers. Older folks nostalgic for charming critter pots that reminded them of Beatrix Potter. Unfortunately, that was also the demographic that wasn't buying new things, was in fact trying to get rid of stuff. Garnered lots of compliments, only occasionally sales, for gifts.
I'm selling a lot more to younger folks, these days; not only that, I've got college freshmen picking up my card, promising to come back in the fall when they move into their first apartment. I am, abruptly, trendy. And I think it's because my work calls to something in them that wishes for safer, softer times.
Eh, maybe I'm completely out in left field. But I gotta say, it feels nice to be making connections with a new generation. They're really good kids, thoughtful, interested, and interesting to talk to. Makes me want to keep doing this stuff.