I should be in the gallery right now. I should be helping check in the shipped art, looking over sculptures for shipping damage, and making sure the artists have all their paperwork together (which they won’t – I love you guys, but there’s always a few of you). I should be laughing with Sophia about some wistful and silly bit of nonsense. I should be cringing in horror and calling everyone over to see how little bubble wrap someone used to cushion a piece of art that is now going into the “fix the frame” pile – and yes, there is always a pile. I should be taking pictures of the fun things artists sometimes draw on their shipping boxes, or the interesting “fragile” stickers from different countries. I should be making people laugh as I make a big, silly dramatic fuss over the fact that there are needles in this piece and someone else needs to finish checking it in because I just can’t. I should be asking where the knife went for the fifth time. I should be telling Leah stories about an artist, but also tangenting too much, and taking too long to get to the point (it’s kind of my thing). I should be apologizing to Chris as I ask her to repeat an Art ID for the third time. I should be working on SEAF.
But we can’t, and I’m shaken by how hard it is hitting me. I started volunteering for the festival in 2009, right after I moved to the area. I had fallen in with a local performance troupe, and a few of the members suggested I check out this erotica art festival. I was way too poor for a ticket, so I signed up to volunteer. My first year, admittedly, wasn’t amazing. I signed up for Box Office, and the only shifts they had available were from 12 am to 3 am (it should be pointed out that this was before SEAF changed directors, and their policy for volunteers back then was you could only check out the festival AFTER your shift). I barely saw anything, but it left me very curious and I saw enough to know that it was worth a second shot. The next year I volunteered with Art Docents. In 2014 I joined the committee, first as the Press Lead, and the following year I took over as the Artist Liaison. This year, after several years of expressing my interest, I was on the jury (and never again, just saying that now, I learned my lesson). I was so excited for this year.
It’s a strange process, mourning an event. I know we’re all going through it right now. You feel a little guilty, right? Like you’re not supposed to be this upset? I’m healthy, my family is fine, none of us are sick, most of us can work from home – we’re very lucky in all of this. At the same time, I feel so incredibly distraught. This thing that I pour my time, my soul, and occasionally my blood (it’s happened) into cannot be, and it’s no one’s fault, it just can’t. I do have some solace in the plans that are in place for later this year – we will still get together, in a much smaller capacity, to celebrate art once we’ve been given the all clear. It won’t be the same, and many of the more interactive aspects of the festival will need to be postponed until there’s a vaccine, but we’re all still here and still determined to get this art on walls and get people in front of it.
None of that changes the fact that right now, I miss my community. Right now, I miss being in the gallery with people I have come to deeply care for over the years. Right now, I miss that sense of excitement because in less than a week we’re going to open the doors and show thousands of people some truly amazing art that they can’t find anywhere else. Right now, I miss opening those boxes and seeing the artwork in front of me for the first time, and how it’s even better looking than the photo. I even miss giving the side eye to people bringing in art that isn’t ready to hang yet (you know who you are).
I know we’ll get through this. Just, right now, it hurts. And it’s okay that it hurts.
Be safe and be well. And if you can, stay home.
Best,
Drea Talley
Artist Liaison