Last week I attended the Patchogue Outdoor Market as a vendor. It’s been over two years since my last experience as a vendor. The last market I had participated in was held at an art deco building in Chelsea right before the holidays began, indoors and spacious. I brought a suitcase full of scarves and art prints with some tissue paper and gator boxes. I sold a bunch of things, met and spoke with different people, and reunited with old friends. I felt invigorated by the experience, and I wanted to attend more often. A few weeks later, I found out I was pregnant, we had offers on our house, and the reality of us moving our young family and household set in. A year after all of that, I was looking again into making my scarves and prints and researching applications for the summer of 2020. And the month of March was the last I had thought about all of that.

When I received an email from the Patchogue Arts Council last month, stating a call to artists for an arts and farmers market, I pulled together all of my inventory, bought some new packaging supplies and a popup tent, and applied to be a vendor.

Sunday morning, my husband helped me gather everything, we drove out together and set up shop in the parking lot. It was a sunny warm day, and the general mood was a cheerful one. It took me some time to figure out how to display everything, but eventually, I was pleased with the setup, and we were able to settle in for the hours ahead of us.

The attendance was fair that day. We mostly spoke with our neighbor vendor, the founder of a gluten-free bakery based in the Hamptons. I saw an artist friend who had set up for the fair too, and it was wonderful to see her work and to reunite in general. By the end of the fair, I was so tired. The adrenaline flow finally came to an end, and I’ve spent this week run down with a cold, and trying to catch up on illustration and design work for clients.

Although I barely sold anything, I really learned a lot. I saw my art through other people’s eyes. And it brought me new insight. Some pieces that I thought would be of interest were totally ignored. Other pieces I had brought along as backup (and frankly felt were borderline inappropriate for the general public), were the ones that sold. I also felt a precious connection to a particular piece that sold, and I hope I have a photo of it somewhere. Did I expect to have all this work stay forever in the flat files of my studio? Maybe a part of me did think so.

I also witnessed something special. I saw the love and care that others had put into their unique creations, ready to chat with anyone interested enough to stop and ask about them. They were open to talking about their process, willing to give samples of their food, and so readily showcasing their projects to the receptive audience.

I’m going to continue to attend the markets because it’s a way to connect to a community that we as artists can miss at times. When I show my art, I don’t have the reception of others around me who aren’t artists themselves, or friends and family. I don’t see that part as often, and so I’m free to build up their stories in my head. And it’s unfortunate when the imposter voice in my head gets a hold of that story; it can really go downhill and I can feel pretty defeated. But if I can take what I feel from these experiences at the market and use it as inspiration to move forward, I will make better work, and feel more connected to the people who potentially would have it in their hands.

For more information on the market, please visit:
https://www.facebook.com/PatchogueFarmersMarket/