My second craft fair was Potfest in the Pens. Quintessentially British to the core. Where else could 100 potters think it was a good idea to line up their treasures in an open sided cattle mart in October in the Lake District? And even more eccentrically, hundreds of people came from all over the UK to check us out and even buy a pot or two. And just to top the weekend off Storm Deirdre, or whatever name the weather forecasters came up with, hit us on Sunday with lorry tipping gusts of wind. But …. It was truly wonderful and I hope I will be back next year!
So what did I learn? Or at least start to learn. Life continues to be a work in progress for me. Two things. Firstly the art of deciding when to engage with people visiting your stand. And secondly the difference between artistic modesty and insecure negativity.
My experienced neighbours chose a hands off approach to customer engagement settling in to their deckchairs and viewing their tables from a distance. One even brought her knitting. Customers seemed to know who to turn to to discuss potential purchases and went away happy. I tried this approach although without the comfort of a deckchair. It wasn’t quite me and I found myself creeping back to the table just in case someone wanted to know the glaze inspiration for my Port Eynon bowls or the drying process of my slab built garden gnomes.
One of the dangers in lurking behind your table like an eager Labrador is you may be unpleasantly surprised by what people say about your work. A friend once heard someone state how she had seen his exact same bowls in John Lewis. There were two obvious responses. Firstly to ring the John Lewis ceramics buyer and book a meeting, or secondly to go and buy up all their stock and sell it at the very next craft fair.
The second thing I learned was taught to me by my “so called” friend, Hamish. I accept he had driven the van for hours in the rain and carried the heaviest crates, and even slept in the Premiere Inn put-you-up whilst I had the double bed. However on day two he muttered those dreaded words that only a true friend dare say “do you mind if I mention something”. I braced myself. He pointed out how I have a compulsion to sprinkle negativity where it is simply not needed. For example Potential Buyer “I love this little pot” Me “Yes. I wasn’t quite sure about the glaze so reglazed it but even that didn’t really work”. There is a time for honestly and a time to simply say thankyou and shut up.
So as I prepare for my next outing to Stoke in November, accepting I am still a work in progress, I am searching the internet for a suitable deckchair. I hope to see you there.