Weird. Seriously cool, but weird.
I may be in a book. At the very least, my portrait and story of being Appalachian will be going up in an art gallery.
I shit you not. This afternoon I was hanging around the booth, counting down till time to break it down, when this couple walks up to me and asks if I'd like to participate in a project the guy's working on. He does pencil sketches and has people write their stories on the portraits, and right now he's working on a compilation of people from Appalachia, which he hopes to make into a book. He'd like to draw me, and he can do it right now if I want.
Sounds kind of like the sort of thing that ends up with some of hit up for money, doesn't it? But no, this guy has a copy of the book his last project turned into, The Post-Katrina Portraits. He spent a year or so right after Katrina down in New Orleans, doing pictures and stories from survivors and relief volunteers, and the book is seriously, massively cool.
I told the guy I didn't really have a story to tell about being Appalachian, not being from around here, but he says everybody has a story. He may have had ulterior motive, though--partway through the drawing, he asked if I ever bartered my stuff, like maybe an autographed copy of his book for a purse and maybe a headband for his girlfriend. (The girlfriend has great taste, by the way. She picked out one of my all-time favorite cathedral window purses.)
Right now the portrait is in my filebox, since I had no idea what to write about. Francesco suggested writing about my craft work, or what it's like moving into Appalachia from somewhere else. I still haven't decided, but I'm thinking about writing about marrying into an Appalachian family and how both sides of my family have influenced my crafting. It seems the most fitting subject, considering that Deb bought me the book with the cathedral window pattern in the first place, and that thejtrain's request for me to make a purse for his mom (and then his grandmother and aunt) was what started the whole purse-making business.
I shit you not. This afternoon I was hanging around the booth, counting down till time to break it down, when this couple walks up to me and asks if I'd like to participate in a project the guy's working on. He does pencil sketches and has people write their stories on the portraits, and right now he's working on a compilation of people from Appalachia, which he hopes to make into a book. He'd like to draw me, and he can do it right now if I want.
Sounds kind of like the sort of thing that ends up with some of hit up for money, doesn't it? But no, this guy has a copy of the book his last project turned into, The Post-Katrina Portraits. He spent a year or so right after Katrina down in New Orleans, doing pictures and stories from survivors and relief volunteers, and the book is seriously, massively cool.
I told the guy I didn't really have a story to tell about being Appalachian, not being from around here, but he says everybody has a story. He may have had ulterior motive, though--partway through the drawing, he asked if I ever bartered my stuff, like maybe an autographed copy of his book for a purse and maybe a headband for his girlfriend. (The girlfriend has great taste, by the way. She picked out one of my all-time favorite cathedral window purses.)
Right now the portrait is in my filebox, since I had no idea what to write about. Francesco suggested writing about my craft work, or what it's like moving into Appalachia from somewhere else. I still haven't decided, but I'm thinking about writing about marrying into an Appalachian family and how both sides of my family have influenced my crafting. It seems the most fitting subject, considering that Deb bought me the book with the cathedral window pattern in the first place, and that thejtrain's request for me to make a purse for his mom (and then his grandmother and aunt) was what started the whole purse-making business.