Minicon Dealer's Room notes
This is the first time I've attempted having a table in the dealer's room. skylarker offered to share a table with me, and that seemed to work out well. I sold quite a bit which is encouraging. I didn't make a lot of money, because as numerous individuals have pointed out to me, I price my pieces way too low. I've always thought that if I priced things taking into consideration how much time has gone into creating them, that no one would consider purchasing them. I guess I'm going to have to change my mindset.
On Saturday, Harlan Ellison stopped by my table. If you haven't had enough of his banter already, read more He stopped in front of me, and started looking over my display. I'd brought along some jewelry, little clay critters, some needle-felted pieces, mostly dragons and some crocheted shaker dinosaurs which were mostly sold out at that point. I had most of the little pieces arranged on a wonderful wooden shelf that Chas had built for me. I lifted off a tiny clay cat and told him that I supposed I should explain it to him, that the cat was holding a computer mouse in it's mouth, and it is suppose to be funny. He chuckled and said he supposed my work was nice, but it's a bit too "fru-fru" for him. I told him that I'd heard that's what he said about my pieces in the art show. (I'd been told that when he'd toured the art show that he'd admired my work, but said that it was too frilly for him.) He stopped up short and asked if I was the one that did that what-cha-ma-call-it with the paper and the rolling. I said yes, quilling. He said it was amazing stuff, but not really his style. That he especially admired that piece that was on the upper right of the left panel...the bird... I wasn't sure where he meant, but I said that I'd brought two birds, a Cedar Waxwing and a Kestrel. He said it was the Kestrel that he thought was wonderful, but how you can admire something but not want to live with it. I agreed and said that I'm often drawn to dramatic violent pieces, but I wouldn't want to have them hanging over my bed. This is probably my fault, mentioning "bed" is probably what set him off. He told me that when he looked at my work he'd said that this was obviously done by a person who has way too much time on their hands and needs to be laid more often. I told him I was a grandma, "been there, done that." He complemented my appearance and then said that if he were twenty years younger that he would hit on me. I said that then we're lucky he's not. That stopped him short, and he turned quickly away to the Russian table across from us, unfortunately missing skylarker's end of the table entirely.
On Saturday, Harlan Ellison stopped by my table. If you haven't had enough of his banter already, read more He stopped in front of me, and started looking over my display. I'd brought along some jewelry, little clay critters, some needle-felted pieces, mostly dragons and some crocheted shaker dinosaurs which were mostly sold out at that point. I had most of the little pieces arranged on a wonderful wooden shelf that Chas had built for me. I lifted off a tiny clay cat and told him that I supposed I should explain it to him, that the cat was holding a computer mouse in it's mouth, and it is suppose to be funny. He chuckled and said he supposed my work was nice, but it's a bit too "fru-fru" for him. I told him that I'd heard that's what he said about my pieces in the art show. (I'd been told that when he'd toured the art show that he'd admired my work, but said that it was too frilly for him.) He stopped up short and asked if I was the one that did that what-cha-ma-call-it with the paper and the rolling. I said yes, quilling. He said it was amazing stuff, but not really his style. That he especially admired that piece that was on the upper right of the left panel...the bird... I wasn't sure where he meant, but I said that I'd brought two birds, a Cedar Waxwing and a Kestrel. He said it was the Kestrel that he thought was wonderful, but how you can admire something but not want to live with it. I agreed and said that I'm often drawn to dramatic violent pieces, but I wouldn't want to have them hanging over my bed. This is probably my fault, mentioning "bed" is probably what set him off. He told me that when he looked at my work he'd said that this was obviously done by a person who has way too much time on their hands and needs to be laid more often. I told him I was a grandma, "been there, done that." He complemented my appearance and then said that if he were twenty years younger that he would hit on me. I said that then we're lucky he's not. That stopped him short, and he turned quickly away to the Russian table across from us, unfortunately missing skylarker's end of the table entirely.