Preparing for the Art Crawl

It's evening and as I write there's loud singing coming from somewhere outside my window. At first I thought that tipsy female students were coming down the street from a party. They were singing "I Will Survive". But the singing didn't pass by or fade away. It's been going for over an hour, getting louder in fact. I looked out the window and it seems to come from the YWCA across the street. Our daytime view of this building is an odd spectacle of joggers on treadmills and stairmasters in the YWCA workout room. But now the curtains are drawn and there's a faint light inside and many voices are belting out "Celebrate Good Times, Come On!" and "R-E-S-P-E-C-T". It's a non-stop hit list of vastly overused wedding dance tunes, but the singers are enthusiastic as island castaways hearing recorded music for the first time in 20 years. They're REALLY into it. I don't mind it really. Whoever is in there seems to be having fun. It's just one interesting thing to wonder about.

I had a picnic with my family earlier this evening on another warm and beautiful summer evening, even though we are nearing mid-October. The lemon yellow leaves fell from the trees in the soft warm wind. Strange but likeable weather. But only a fool would forget the #1 rule of Minnesota -- it might always snow tomorrow.

Now I'm working on stuff for the Art Crawl, which will happen next weekend. My glass studio is in a section of the city filled with many artists' studios, and twice a year they all open to the public. This event is called the Art Crawl. People can roam through the studios and even purchase stuff, though I don't think a lot of art buying actually happens. I went to the last Art Crawl in Spring, before I opened my own studio. There was a lot of bad art - paintings of purple naked bodies coming out of flowers or lumpy ceramics. Every now and then there's some decent art. At least I can say for myself that there is nobody doing anything similar to me. After that I'll have to let the public make up their mind about which category I fall in.

I'm using the occasion to finally throw a party for the official opening of my studio. Never mind that I've been there almost four months. I had to do it before I was confronted with having to throw a simultaneous opening party with my 1-year anniversary party. Saturday night I'll serve mojitos and food. Mom even found some plastic plates and serving trays in "Green Lantern" green, or as it says on the label, "kiwi".

The past week I've spent heaps of time designing and building little things like nightlights for the Art Crawl that are relatively inexpensive to inspire people to buy on impulse (and hence pay my rent). When I started my classes in traditional stained glass windowmaking I did not expect to ever do nightlights. But Gallery 360, which is now showing my work, asked for nightlights because they sell well at Christmas and I obliged. And better yet, I've had a good time with them. Turns out it's pretty fun and adventurous, like taking on a dare from a friend, to think about how to turn a very kitchy, outdated product (typified by glass angels or illuminated moo-cows) into something that is fresh and clever. I worked on this a lot this week and I like what I made. I'm playing on frilly Victorian opulence combined with the bucolic whimsy of forest animals. I'll try to get some pictures up.

Tomorrow Marco is home from France. Yay! I've missed him. I can't wait to hear about everyone there. I have so much to tell him.