The Daily Rambling Artist: Dude, Where's My Paintings? - Why I Phone In Exhibiting Art

I was loading up after a live festival a few years ago.This particular aspect of an event is consistently a grueling task, particularly when it extends over multiple days.affair. In general vendors often appear to be in a rush to get out, but I always take my time and am usually among the last ones out. I think joining the rush only contributes to the clutter.

So, there I stood, calmly assembling my art, tent, tables, and other belongings. The organizers had emphasized the importance of not entering the street for safety reasons. Adhering to this protocol, I was engrossed in my task when I spotted my fellow festival participant, who happened to be my neighbor, backing her truck into our street. My heart sank as I heard the unmistakable crunch of several of my paintings.

She climbed out of her truck and repeated the phrase, "I'm so sorry, dude," in a peculiarly echoing manner. Strangely enough, that phrase still randomly resounds in my mind from time to time. I won't disclose the event's name, as I bear no ill will toward it. Unfortunate and forgettable memories like these are often created by individuals who lack consideration and common sense.

A few years earlier, I had encountered another artist who was in a wheelchair. He recounted losing a leg during the same event, sitting before me as living proof of his story. The woman before me, who kept repeating "I'm sorry, dude," evoked memories of the artist's story, and I was thankful that it was just some paintings she ran over.  

The undeniable value of live events brings me comfort. I find solace in the knowledge that I can load up my Durango with my artwork and embark on open-air endeavors if circumstances require. Despite this capability, there exist numerous reasons why I am reluctant to do so and, instead, choose to broadcast all new artwork from the comfort of my own home. If you miss seeing me live, “I’m so sorry, dudes.”

-Sergio Santos