The best is yet to come. I am keeping a very positive attitude!
I am leaving shortly to set up for a juried show I'll be participating in this weekend. Should I pack a sandwich or rely upon the hot dog stand? I may be challenged to finish eating last week's baked chips which taste like cardboard. No need to worry about what my breath smells like. People will think it's just the packing that I brought my wares in.
Last week, I set up shop at the biggest model train show in the state. The head guy cautioned that people didn't buy "art" at a show like his, but encouraged me to hang tight. He was right. Sales were stale and it was a long weekend.
I met a lot of very nice people.
My interest in trains is a weird one - not a bad one. It has some sad parts of it, but such is life. My father was killed by a train when I was 14 years old.
I moved on with my life. I moved out west where I lived in Santa Monica/West Los Angeles for 45 years. That was my life! I moved back to Upstate NY to defy my mother by buying her house when she passed. Her ghost has raised havoc ever since. I live on Railroad Street.
When I went to school out west, I was told to team up with another student for the required photography assignments. There was a weird little guy who turned out to be one of my best friends in life. In fact, he drove me and the angry cat across country because nobody was going to let us get on to a plane with the cat's attitude. My friend is a train chaser. Needless to say, I couldn't get away from the subject and so I embraced train photography and train chasing with him. The biggest mistake I made with the subject was that time when I dated a conductor - no need to fill in the blanks.
Last weekend, the sales receipts on the train show were painful. On the first day, I think I made some money and spent twice at much on fun stuff. This second day, I made four damn dollars.
At the end of this last day, a man walks up to my booth with his elderly father. The old man said to me that he was my father's best friend.
No sooner did he leave my booth than a couple randomly came into the show. They were not rail fans. They were people looking to do something on a Sunday afternoon. I was telling them about the elderly man who had just left. It turned out that the husband was the friend of the son of the man who died with my father.
Is that a sign from "the other side?" I think the spirits are telling me to give up train photography and get back to landscapes and nature ...or.... maybe not. Let's see if anything stirs any interest this weekend!