When I was in high school my parents used to take my younger sister and I on all sorts of car trips. Often we'd go to brunch Sunday morning (belgium waffles, danish, sausage, mmmmmm......good job parents! Thanks for teaching me to over eat!!) and then we'd go shopping. A lot of the time we'd go to craft shows. And even though we lived outside of Philadelphia where you'd think there'd be plenty to do and see, we'd sometimes drive HOURS to get to certain shows. Maybe it was because my Dad always referred to Philly as FILTH-a-delphia. And the road you'd drive on to get there (the Schuylkill Expressway, pronounced school-kill) as the SURE kill Expressway.....he was a character. I'm sure I'll tell you more about my Dad as time goes by. You've been warned ;)
So anyways, one of the craft shows we'd go to is called Sugarloaf. There are a bunch of different Sugarloaf shows but we'd go to the one in Gaithersburg or Timonium, MD. Anyone want to mapquest Philly to Gaithersburg??? I'll save you some time. It's a SIX HOUR round trip. And on the way home we'd all be eating the FUDGE we always got at the show. You know the noise Homer makes? That's me and PUMPKIN FUDGE.......drooooool........uh oh....do you see a pattern here? Brunch? Fudge?? Nice.
The Sugarloaf shows have been around for a long time. Most of the artists have been doing what they do for ages and we'd see the same people at every show. Somehow I got it in my head that this would be a great way to live. I remember walking through the parking lot, past the trailers and motor homes, and thinking to myself that this was something I'd like to do. Travel the country, spend my nights in a motor home, peddle my art....doesn't matter I had no idea what I'd make.
Fast forward to last night, well really very early this morning. At 12:30am I finished my application for 5 Sugarloaf shows! I probably won't get in, it's almost impossible to get juried in to any show with jewelry any more, my booth shot is atrocious, and my product images are extremely unprofessional, but who knows.
Maybe some of my high school naivete will work for me now.