Dirt from the road
And salt from my tears
So first off: one heck of a warm welcome to ALL of our newest subscribers who’ve poured into our digital neighborhood from the likes of Greenville SC, Columbus OH, Des Moines IA, Denver CO, Geneva IL, and Milwaukee and Madison WI. (Psst: Drop a note and tell us where we met you!)
We met you in one of these cities because you decided to stop inside a 10x10 foot tent. You snuck a peek at the wild colorful artwork inside that’s NOT Photoshop. You liked it so much that you gave us permission to email you, which, in today’s day and age, is a hot commodity. We’re totally grateful and so stoked you’re here. I’d offer you a homemade taco casserole if I could!
Speaking of tents on streets in cities across the country, let’s dive into a topic we rarely (if ever) discuss: street art festivals. We wouldn’t normally bore our readers with the banality of this world, but something occurred to me this past 4th of July when I knelt down in street filth as ragged sobs shook my entire body. It was in that very street filth—when the bone-dry Denver air robbed what was left of the moisture in my mouth yet plump tears tumbled from my eyes—that I thought: why not peel back the grimy vinyl tent curtain to dish up the dirty details?
You see, I was in the midst of a full-on meltdown because I thought I forgot to pack the velcro tabs we needed to hang all of our work. Since we started up this weird life back in 2011, this summer’s 7,956 miles of The “What Election?!” U.S. Tour has proven to be the most intense venture yet.
And yes, velcro tabs finally broke me.
Odds are, you probably know at least one artist/musician/circus-freak personally (or, at least now you do, hi!). About 15-20 years ago, as social media gained traction, it got a lot easier to decide to be an artist, at least a part-time one. Advertising your work to “the masses” was cheap, if not free. It was a golden age. As we all know now, those prosperous years online are behind us. We’ve gotta take this shit back to the streets, back to face-to-face conversations inside the cozy confines of a 10x10 foot tent.
Just like in medieval times, sluggin’ it out on concrete remains a tried-and-true option for those of us with the hardcore constitution to not just endure, but thrive in this circus life. It’s definitely not for the faint of heart.
Because, in a matter of 24-hours*, you may have to:
Drive for 8-10 hours to get halfway to your next show.
Try not to get pinned between a concrete barrier and a rogue semi-truck that swerves because the driver next to them is texting.
Assemble a respectable dinner from the fresh offerings at a roadside Kwik-Trip.
Try to figure out the real address of the Airbnb your host swapped you to because the other one had a toilet leak, but it’s really hard to understand her instructions due to the deafening roosters in the background.
Shop Walmart at 10pm for a dress, contact solution, and makeup because you forgot your luggage at home.
Refresh your weather app way too often because of a potentially violent storm gathering steam just northwest of you.
Set up your art booth shoeless because the street is flooded.
DIY-fix a piece of your booth because a freak windstorm damaged it.
Find the nearest building with AC because it’s 106°F inside your tent.
Obsess over a crucial overnight delivery that keeps getting postponed (and, no, it did not arrive on time).
Coordinate shipments with friends, family, and/or neighbors so said shipments don’t get stolen from your porch.
Keep up with accounting, which includes the deep rabbit hole of understanding paying sales tax in a multitude of states, some of which are super easy (thank you, Illinois), some of which require no less than 23 open Chrome tabs to figure out (looking at you, Ohio), and some of which are a complete ripoff (WHY with the quarterly missed filing penalty of $50, Texas, whyyyyyyy?!)
*Ok so these things didn’t all happen in 24 hours but they DID all happen to us this summer!
And of course, that just scratches the surface. The bulk of the stress comes from simply remembering everything. Any indie artist/musician/circus-freak who can’t afford a tour manager knows that a smooth show requires a fully charged memory bank (backed by copious checklists, of course). Well, our memory and our lists began to break down at the end of June; we just couldn’t keep up. We ran out of ink, we ran out of paper, we ran out of print packaging, we ran out of bubble wrap. But honestly, such a GREAT problem to have, am I right?? All thanks to you, our incredible collectors! Our hearts are filled to the very brim with gratitude. After a tumultuous few pandemia years, this was precisely the summer we needed to get back on track.
I’m writing this note to you on the Friday before show number 10 of 13. It’s hard to believe we’re in the 2024 Tour home stretch with four more shows remaining. Every bump, every bruise, every ripped toenail, every flooded street gutter, every near-death experience with a semi-truck—it’s all worth it. For it’s all y’all that keep us going when the going gets tough! (Because lord knows this economy isn’t very forgiving! Who buys art when they have to put expensive eggs on the table?!)
So with all that said, if you’ve got some blank walls or empty drawers to fill and something in our booth caught your eye and you just can’t stop thinking about it, here are some REAL 5-star booth visitor reviews:
“It’s so nice to see something other than colorful doors in Greece.”
“Wow! This makes coming here worth the hike!”
“It’s like you tell part of the story but not the whole thing and I want to know the rest!”
“This is so much better than Fort Worth. It’s the same boring stuff every year.”
—Woman from Dallas“Pictures in the woods aren’t as cool as these are!”
“This is so saaaatisfying!”
“This is making me cry!”
“You’re on my Dream Board on Pinterest!”
“Absolutely rad dude!!”
“This shit is crispy as hell!”
So with that, Chris and I both thank you for tagging along with us during this year’s rodeo! Once the jets cool off a bit, we’ll be back in this Sub-space with more adventures to share. In the meantime, here’s a handful of shots from the road this summer…
Before you go, don’t forget to give our heart a squeeze, go grab a print, keep cool, and stay crispy as hell!
What a wonderful story. Your humanity shines through and I feel a connection through your writing. Bravo!
I clearly need more brewery hangs with Chris to get his feel, but you Katie have had such a different air about you this show season. The street festivals are probably at that time of year where they start to cast long shadows over everything, but I want to shine a little light for you. This year it's been so nice to catch up on your first day back and *almost* all the shows are spoken with a light in your eye and a little sneaky smile. I know the past few years and the leach of a pandemic have been a steady slog uphill, but this year I could feel the good energy coming from you way more than the tour manager drain. This is where you'd give me a "or I'm just better at hiding it..." dry statement, but I think, my friends, that it's something different this year and I'm excited to watch it keep going! Final stretch! We can do hard things!