Went Down to Houston for Hunting Art Prize and All I Got Was This Lousy Poster

As we were pulling into the center, a young man asks “Are you an artist?” I had the huge pleasure of replying, “Why, yes I am!” – I don’t know what was more thrilling – the question or my answer.

Standing at the doors with the other hundred-plus artists and their friends was a bit like standing before the Chocolate Factory waiting to be escorted in to meet Willy and wondering about all the wonderful treats that awaited us. It was really a magical night – huge flowers arrangements with roses and lilies and carnations and a whole host of flowers I couldn’t name, massive ice sculptures and trays made of ice holding little ceviche shots, rooms filled with mountains of huge shrimps, a bank of sushi chefs working steadily, vegetables, fruits, an antalope carvery (I didn’t taste that one), hundreds of little bite sized meals in tiny dishes, cheese platters and tiny quiches topped with apple blossoms, little chocolate pies, cream puffs, tarts, and truffles, wait staff loaded down with wine and champagne, real glass glasses and silverware and little cloth napkins, wait people scurrying about, taking plates and glasses the moment you finished. At the end of the night as we were walking out to get the car, they had set up a whole candy store with large jars of candies, twenty or so, with scoops for taking all you wanted. As soon as one of the jars would go down, it would be refilled.

The collection of art was a amazing, I’ll have to really step up my game if I ever want the chance again. And I will also need to evaluate my worth a little more, I was probably the lowest price in the whole exhibit. I still can’t believe my humble piece was even chosen and just goes to show, you can never know the minds of the jurors. Truth be told, I nearly ripped the canvas off to reuse the rails but at the last minute decided to enter it since it was the only really traditional piece of art I had. Almost everything else I have is multi-media or fabric and not eligible for the contest.

I was told that in past years, nearly all the art has sold, but I guess with the falling gas prices (most of the guests are oil and gas barons), the money just wasn’t flowing last night and only a few pieces went to new homes. I was supposed to stay with my piece in case anyone wanted to buy it, but frankly I wasn’t sacrificing my night to worry about the mundane and so my friend and I ran around to all the rooms, ate and drank everything in sight (well, except for the antalope) and laughed and talked. It was glorious and I have no regrets but every now and again I thought “So this is how the other two percent live and I wonder if they know how many children went hungry tonight.” Karen and I did a little math on the way home and figured about fifty thousand alone on the food and flowers.

Mr. Hunting talked a little about past winners and what they’d been able to do with the prize money, some had built new studios or produced a collection of work that sold out. I thought to myself, the only thing I could think of that I need and don’t have are a couple of teeth and new car.

This is the end of the big trifecta for me – The Old Bakery and Emporium show last November, the People’s Gallery for 2016 and being a Hunting Art prize finalist so I don’t have anything coming up to look forward to. But the universe is supporting me in so many ways that I feel like I’m on the right path.

There were nearly seventeen hundred submissions and only a hundred or so of us were selected as finalists. The winner had been a finalist for HAP for four years in a row. When they made the announcement, he was too overwhelmed to be able to talk, the mc’s were wrapping up and things were about to finish when he finally found his voice and grabbed the mic to say something – I’ll paraphrase here since I can’t remember the exact words – but I remember thinking, yep, that’s what I keep saying, “You never know who will be selected. You can’t play if you don’t enter, and you can’t win if you don’t play.”

So, back in the studio today, basking in the glow of last night. I have two fiber pieces waiting for thread, two paintings going on two different easels in the kitchen, a multi-media project on the dining room table and a sculpture in the garage. I have a cup of tea and a Netflix movie and a box of bobbins to wind. Time to begin again, again.