Sidewalk Arts in the Rain

Fortune's Rocks Beach Biddeford, Maine - the day after

I’m new to the arts and crafts show circuit. That doesn’t mean I’m new to art or craft for that matter, just to the concept of setting up a temporary shop for a day, weekend, or even just a few hours to sell your work. In the past year, I’ve been assigned a space between a gourmet fudge maker and a Christmas wreath crafter, a handcrafted unique bird house designer and a whoopee pie baker, and a marshmallow gun carver and my friend Judy, who makes jewelry, and who is “not in this for the money. It’s just fun . . ” but outsold me by 300%.

I have learned a thing or two from these people, though, and from these events. By making mistakes and finding myself wishing I had brought X, I thought I was totally prepared for the show I did this past weekend in Southern Maine.

My table display

The one thing I needed the most and forgot to pack: my thick skin.

The one thing I wasn’t prepared for: disappointment.

The one thing I hoped wouldn’t happen and did: rain.

The one thing I had, but didn’t get much use out of: inventory.

No, I’m not especially spleeny (a good Maine word for frail, sensitive or easily hurt). And no, I’m not generally a person who looks at life with a glass-half-empty attitude.



But it rained. It poured. The brave ones came out to the show anyway and expected to see some serious art. My first sale of the day was my largest: $100 for one of my bigger, display pieces. The rest of my sales were smaller, but were certainly sales nonetheless. It’s just that there were so few of them. I guess I’m lamenting the fact that there were points in the day that I thought I’d cry from the frustration. Rain poured down the gully on the edge of the sidewalk. It dripped in from the metal poles supporting my just-bought-for-this-occasion beige canopy (without the side walls, because I couldn’t find matching ones, which turned out to be a valuable asset to those around me to keep their work dry when the rain came in sideways). Cars drove by and splashed the back of my table, the tablecloth, the gear I had stowed beneath the skirt.



And not that I can blame them, hardly anyone came. And of those who did, many said “ah, the Saco Sidewalk Art Festival . . it always rains . . “ and they’d shake their heads and give me a small grin, like I should have known or like I did know yet chose to come anyway.

my canopy covered show space

Reality is that you sign up for these events long before the extended forecast comes out. You pay the entry fee. You try to consider everything, every what if, or if not. You – or maybe it’s just me – research display ideas and find something that’ll work for your art. You think about how to pack the car for easy unloading and set up. You consider the phrasing of your signs. You dream about making a bunch of money and being able to call your husband and tell him how great it was and that you’re taking your parents out for dinner on your big earnings and how everyone ranted and raved about your work and you have orders for more work that’ll keep you busy until Christmas and you convince yourself this will be worth having given up your day job.

And then it rains.

And only the brave few come to the show.


And thankfully you make enough to just cover the entry fee and your gas.


And . . . you learn.



And you meet a few people and chat with them and bathe in the compliments.



You listen to their stories of this place or that one and how they shot this amazing sunset and oh here it is in my digital camera do you want to see it?



And your face hurts from smiling because despite all of that, you do like doing this.



And you’re happy about giving up your day job and spending the last four nights gluing mattes together and making signs.

And there’s a certain satisfaction when you back up and take a look at all you’ve created and think about the trail of an image to this point. How it goes from something you see through the viewfinder to your computer to the printer to the table with the glue and mat board to a finished product with your name on it that goes up on someone’s wall that they see every day and it makes them smile.

Ocean Park Beach Path Saco Maine

It takes a lot to put your work out there. Not only do you have to have confidence and pride in what you do or create, you have to have a marketing concept of some sort. You have to know no only what you sell, but how you sell. What kind of image do you intend to project? What psychological nerve do you want to touch in the people who walk by your booth? How are you going to get noticed, in a sea of white canopies and colorful signs? I don’t know the statistics on the amount of money spent by the typical consumer visiting an art or craft show. I understand that for someone to earmark some of their time and energy to going to one of these shows, they have to have an interest of some sort. Sometimes they drive long distances. Sometimes there’s an admission fee. Sometimes it takes the coordination of several friends or family members who enjoy this sort of event to decide to go together and make a day of it. I get it. These people have an investment into this before they even get to the gate. This earns them the right to some sort of expectation. Arts and craft show attendees want to see and buy things that are on a different level from the things on the shelf at Walmart. They want to meet the artists and talk to them about their art. They want a story to tell when someone asks them about the photograph of the sunflower they’ve hung in their living room.



My Dad asked me the next morning if I would do it again. I was sore from moving everything and standing on my wet feet all day. I was struggling to repack the car with items I didn’t sell. My patience was thinning. I had a long drive ahead of me and unpacking at the other end.




I said yes.

Tangled lobster buoy ropes on the beach

Quote for the day:

"Always keep in mind that your own resolution to succeed is more important than any other."

~Abraham Lincoln~

Spend the day: Six Flags New England

I suppose you could call me a theme park snob. I guess I am approaching that level in my quest for higher drops, more inversions, the smoothest, tallest, fastest . . roller coasters. It started a few years ago, in the first few years of my relationship with my now husband. My previous roller coaster experience was tame, and the only loop I think I had done was a dozen years behind me. Not that it frightened me, in fact I recall enjoying it very much, just that my life at that time did not include targeted trips to theme parks. Not really. Fast forward and I fell in love with the feeling of the launch on the Incredible Hulk coaster at Universal Studios in Orlando. Rode it over and over that first day.






Since then it’s been a fascination and a focus of our travels. We went to both Busch Gardens in one year, riding Sheikra in Tampa and then the Griffin in Williamsburg. Cedar Point’s Top Thrill Dragster was a top thrill and there I found my favorite coaster to date, Millennium Force.



So I was kind of skeptical about going to Six Flags New England Six Flags New England.  in Springfield, Massachusetts over Memorial Day weekend. The ulterior motive was to buy season passes that would save us money when we go to California later this summer and spend a few days at Six Flags Magic Mountain in Valencia, home to some record breaking, incredibly innovative coasters. We knew that Six Flags New England (SFNE) had a few coasters, and we had heard they were okay, enough to satisfy a winter’s worth of thrill craving, but my skepticism went deeper. I remember when this park was not a Six Flags, but a run down little local New England amusement park called Riverside. When I lived in Connecticut, we had gone a few times, a Friday night here and there, rode the Cyclone, ate cotton candy, and played carnival games on the midway, that kind of stuff. My memories include heaping trash cans and having to park way down the street on someone’s lawn, kind of like when you go to the fair, long and dusty and hot and sticky.

I’m pleased to say that on this trip, I was quite surprised and we had a great time. The “we” in this case is my husband and 11 year old daughter.

Boy has the place grown up and cleaned up and prettied up. Entering the parking area – a large PAVED – well organized setting (although the $15.00 parking fee is a bit much for this part of the country) – we joined other early visitors on the tram to the entrance. The tram dropped us off at a footbridge over the road – wide and nice, with lots of available trash cans for your refuse, none of which we bulging over with trash – and brought us to the ticketing area. We found our way through the turnstiles and into the season ticket buyers office, got our photos taken, were given a coupon book to use throughout the season – some we can use in California – and once the park was officially opened, with the cutting of the opening ribbon for the day, we were off to the biggest roller coaster in the park, Bizarro. The roller coaster that was once named Superman, and had won consecutive best steel coaster awards, had been renamed a few years before and given a new persona with a soundtrack . We didn’t care who the hero or villain was, we just wanted a great drop (221 feet) and a little air and a lot of exhilaration. It did the trick. And the wait wasn’t too long – about 20 minutes the first time, longer on consecutive rides as the parked got busier during the day.

We rode Bizaro three times that day and twice the next. We also enjoyed Batman another steel coaster with a semi – floorless coaster with some great corkscrew turns. We rode that one a couple of times as the lines were pretty long. We tried Minderaser but all three of us came out feeling like we’d been beat up, and I was really looking forward to it, as I like the seating style, suspended from above with feet dangling. It was just too rough. I don’t like wooden roller coasters for the same reason, too brutal, headache inducing not worth the no thrill, so we didn’t go on either wooden coaster in the park. And for smaller metal coasters with a fun twist, both the Flashback and Pandemonium proved to be really fun. The only ride that gave me pause was not even a roller coaster. It was the twenty story drop tower, aptly named Scream, which wasn’t as bad as I expected. And up that high over the Connecticut River, I swear I could see Hartford, the city where I worked for ten years and where my daughter was born.

I’ve been proven wrong. The park was clean, even the bathrooms, which had attendants and touchless everything – soap dispensers, water, air dryer. The food was typical park fare – burgers, fries, pizza, etc. All overpriced and under portioned, but that’s the theme park way, except for Busch Gardens parks – awesome food – another review . .



Overall, visiting Six Flags New England was a great experience. We had fun. It was well managed and well organized. If you’re in the neighborhood, stop in and give it a try. Before you go, you might want to revisit my THEME PARK TIPS.



Also worth a look is the Roller Coaster Database, where you can find info about the record holders, what’s new, and some park history. http://www.rcdb.com/



I’d love to hear from anyone about their memories at Riverside in Agawam, MA or your experiences at Six Flags Magic Mountain.