This is one of my all time favorite gallery piece entitled "Resurrection"

This is one of my all time favorite gallery piece entitled "Resurrection"

Wednesday, December 2, 2015

The Birth of Ouvert Gallery

I'm a sentimental gal. I aways have been. I save ticket stubs, buttons, and little notes; all cherished mementos. Sometimes I pull them out and spend time holding each one, feeling the way that moment felt. Not all are happy. But I honor the sad memories just the same. I've never been one to edit out the less than great pieces - it is all important.

 This may seem like an intro to a secret hoarding confession, but, ( spoiler alert!) it isn't. Hang in there, I promise I am getting to the point. 

As a kid I would keep a calendar in my room and write little notes about the day. Each year I would look back and see what had happened on that day in previous years. It's a ritual I've never lost, however technology keeps some of those records for me now. The past two days (via FaceBook memories) I have been reliving the excitement of one year ago, when I decided to open a gallery in just five days.  It's a pretty good story and I can't help but share it.

It all begins a few years ago. I had been looking at St. Michaels as a potential gallery location for the entire six years since I had moved back to town. The crowds of people throughout the year, the ease of navigating the downtown, and the closeness of the waterfront were all desirable features. But I was unsure that people would want what I was selling. After all, my taste and style lies on the more contemporary side and I wondered if the crowds there were looking for art that was more traditional. And I had seen several art ventures fail. I did little "tests" in town over the years but didn't see much to encourage me. Until December 2013. Then one of my tests succeeded.

It was a hunch, that showed up out of nowhere. I knew Midnight Madness was approaching in St. Michaels, and suddenly I couldn't get it out of my head that I needed to set up for this event. I had attended Midnight Madness in previous years (an awesome event which draws many residents and visitors to the town) and enjoyed it as an attendee, but never really considered it to be a venue for my own work. But by Dec 1, of 2013 I was determined to try. I contacted several of my artist friends, and checked out my options. On the night of Midnight Madness we were set up in a parking lot right in the middle of town. It was bitter cold that night and we had minimal lighting but we forged ahead, trying to ignore the freezing temperatures. And by 9pm I had sold out of my inventory at gallery prices. That's when I really started to pay attention.

Throughout the next 12 months I continued with regular tests. I helped launch a gallery in town, and consulted on a few other art related events. Everything I saw was encouraging. By the end of November 2014 I again knew that I wanted to be set up for Midnight Madness, but this time I was ready for my own space. The day after Thanksgiving, I walked through town with my step daughter Mackenzie, and wrote down the numbers of every available building on the main street. We went home  that afternoon and made calls.  I began meeting with building owners and real estate agents the following day. I saw many beautiful spaces, but none felt "right." And I have learned (often times the really hard way) not to ignore that instinct. I was starting to think it just might not be in the cards. But I had one more appointment the next day. So early on a Sunday morning, my husband and I met with an agent and checked out the building at 207 S. Talbot Street. It was love at first sight. In that moment I knew I had found the perfect space.

Immediately I started calling, emailing and texting my artists friends. Feeding off of this excitement I negotiated the lease, set up insurance and other details, and began planning. The goal was to open that Saturday for Midnight Madness. I had the keys to the building on Tuesday, and artists began to drop things off. My good friend and DC gallery owner, Margery Goldberg was the first to hang work in the building, driving a van full of the coolest art from the District to my space in St. Michaels. The building has two floors and seven rooms. Throughout the week work arrived and we hung things, then moved them, then hung them again. My husband Mike Campbell and friend Deena Kilmon and I became a team, brainstorming constantly through texts and phone conversations that probably sounded incoherent to any outside listeners. There was work to do from the moment we awoke in the morning until we could no longer stand up at night. Just to keep things interesting I ended up with a stomach virus for part of that week, but was able to work through it. We were completely creatively engaged, performing superhuman feats without thinking twice. By Friday evening the space was almost complete, and we turned our attention to making food and preparing to be hosts the following night. Excitement almost kept me awake all night but exhaustion won and I was able to pull off my most amazing accomplishment which was getting a good night's sleep.

We awoke the next morning to cold,driving rain and fog. My daughter had a cheer competition that day, so I found myself on the phone being interviewed by Kathy Bernard for her NPR show "Two Boomer Babes" while applying glitter eyeshadow in my downstairs bathroom. And while it may have been tempting to be overwhelmed, I have to admit I loved every second of it. The anticipation of potential is a feeling that I live for, and in those moments I was breathing it in and my creative wheels were turning. Total bliss. And then the brief, but panic stricken moments of doubt, where I wondered,"What am I doing? This is crazy!!!" Experience has taught me to shut that sentiment down immediately, to not let that destructive monster in the door. But truly, would people come? We had no sign, and a limited amount of time to get the word out. I also didn't want to disapoint the artists. Had we done enough? 

And, yes, we had. The night was a success. We still had people shopping at 12:30am! The next day was great, and the next. We stayed open throughout the winter, holding workshops and seeing what would happen. It was intimidating at times not knowing what was ahead; we saw another business in town set up an online donation account to compensate for slow winter months. Yikes! What were we in for? 

But we found there were sales to be made, and were surprised and encouraged by the business of January. The weather was prohibitve in February but it gave us much needed time to paint, add lighting , and make necessary improvements. By May we had recieved a Certficate of Appreciation from MCE, a sign that our hard work was paying off and we have never lost momentum. Amazing artists from near and far have contacted us about showing their work, and we have made many new friends. We have contributed to our community by partnering with local non profits such as Check Yourself Talbot, Talbot Humane, Talbot Mentors, Mariah's Mission, TalleyWags Productions, Destination Imagination,St. Michaels Rotary and Tilghman Waterman's Museum. We have promoted and sold the work of many artists. We could not have come as far as we have without the work of our young, talented interns; Sarah Kilmon, who designed our beautiful logo and created our website, and Zoe Pochron, who became a technical advisor and cinematographer. Both of these ladies have also produced and sold their art in our space. Our children, Mackenzie, Collin, Seth, Selene and Mason who have all worked in the gallery, brainstormed with us, and created and sold their art at the gallery are also invaluable members of the team. Artists Teri Bildstein of Tide Together Jewelry, Ryan Jacobson, Erin Fluharty, Dawn Malosh, Bill Wilhelm and Victor Abarca have been with us since Day 1 and have offered their creativity, time and encouragement and we are forever grateful. It is an honor to represent such great local talent and to call these people my friends. Tim Boyle of Vintage Books and Fine Art of Easton took a chance with us and has given us the opportunity to sell great books and rare historical documents and maps. The list goes on and on, and we are continually reminded of the wonderful people around us.

This Saturday it all comes full circle; we will be celebrating our One Year Anniversary at Midnight Madness 2015. We are of course throwing a party, and rolling out the red carpet to our customers as a sign of thanks. I haven't lost that feeling of excitement; the magic of potential is bigger than ever. I know that with my partner/husband Mike Campbell that the sky is the limit. And it just doesn't get better than that.









Friday, November 6, 2015

The Burden of Loving a Creative Person

The other day I had a revelation. To me it was groundbreaking. To those around me, not so much. Really it was just old news for them. And what was this "ah-ha!" moment for me, you ask? Well, ready for it?

I am possibly not an easy person to live with.

Yes, it's true. But in my defense, I'm really not trying to be difficult. As a creative person, I am literally overflowing with ideas. I get excited and want to make things happen. I see so much potential and have a hard time walking away from opportunity. And I tend to just jump in, and give 100%. There is a zone, or a groove that I get in where I am performing optimally and it is one of the best feelings in the world. Adreneline is pumping, my heart beating fast and I posess the ability to organize, plan and pull things together in a near perfect way. It is euphoric to skip from project to project, with ideas flowing, connecting people and places. What I tend to not recognize is how this fast pace of wild creative abandon feels like to those around me. While internally I am feeling blissful, the external me reads quite differently. 

Truth is, these times are a roller coaster of emotions and moods. I work to near exhaustion, push myself past my breaking point, have little patience, and can easily burst into tears. Having a conversation is very difficult because I can't just focus on one idea and everything comes out in an intense burst. There are waves of despair; when I think it all won't work out and that I've just made a series of mistakes. An hour later I am positive again - all of my previous worries forgotten. My loved ones scramble, trying to offer support, or even just figure out what the hell I'm talking about. I don't mean to make them crazy, it's just hard to remember that I'm experiencing a very different reality than them.

I wish that during these times I could see how my intensity affects my loved ones. My focus on the events and projects I am co-ordinating eclipses everything else around me and I push all other concerns aside; things like meals and kids' schedules are secondary. I know how selfish it all sounds (and is). And when it's all accomplished and I have a chance to catch my breath, I only see the sweet wonderful people around me, forgetting what I've just put them all through. Hopefully I let them know all of the ways I love them. And hopefully I remember to tell them how they inspire me. Because it is my life with them that encourages me to move mountains.

People say,"I wish I had your energy!" or "How do you do it all?" and I just shrug. It's no big deal I say. But for those special people around me, they know differently. They know the blood, sweat and tears that goes into everything that I do. And they know that each piece is me laying my heart on the line. And that is their burden to carry. The burden of loving a creative person. 


Tuesday, May 26, 2015

The Magic of Potential

A little over a year ago, my whole life changed. Not that this is news - I'm pretty sure the only way to avoid change is to not be alive. And I have always been open to change - while I may fear it in the abstract I tend to embrace it when it knocks on my door. I love the excitement of the unknown - a blank canvas waiting for inspiration and creation. And so it was a little over a year ago that I was wrestling with the constant questions of "What is it that I really want?" and "What direction do I go next?" Oh wait - I don't want to leave out "What does it all mean?" I devoted a lot of thought to these questions as I lived and breathed a version of myself that I couldn't come to terms with. And then my phone started ringing and I had my answer.

It was the day before a big event that I was running and I sent the first call straight to voicemail. The  call was from Margery Goldberg, owner of the Zenith Art Gallery in Washington, D.C. The Zenith is the oldest, most established gallery in the District and I had been proudly exhibiting my work there for the previous three years. Usually I would jump to answer a call from Margery, but this day I didn't want to lose focus. I figured I'd just call her back after the weekend was over. But one stands the test of time by being persistent so Margery called back a few more times and then I received a Harry Potter "howler" style email where she didn't just ask for me to contact her but demanded it. So I returned her call, and when I did she gave me almost unbelievable news.

Of course before she would tell me anything she yelled at me for sending her to voicemail. Well - and also for having a full voicemail account. Once that was out of the way she delivered her news. And I couldn't even believe what I was hearing. Somehow, without even realizing it was happening - I advanced as a semi-finalist in a huge public art installation in Washington, D.C. After a nationwide call to artists and many applicants, it was down to myself and three other artists.  The Zenith Gallery had submitted me, providing me with an awesome opportunity. I had a moment of over the moon excitement, and then Margery began firing off what was expected of me to get the job; design, proposal, references and a sample board. With a little over a month to complete everything not to mention staying on top of my current responsibilities I had a bit of a nervous break down. Was it possible? Could I do it all?

"You may not get it. Probably won't."said a less than enthusiastic friend. While a few around me had similarly less than inspiring sentiments to offer I had the total support of my husband and kiddos and truly through the weeks that followed it was their belief in me that carried me through. My  schedule seemed to have no available times to get everything done, so I began waking up at 4:30 in the morning to create work time. Many mornings the alarm would go off and my sweet husband would have to talk me into getting out of bed. He would often start the coffee for me. Sometimes I was less than appreciative of him, but I always got out of bed. And so I began to gather information and put together my design. I reached out to past clients and organizations as well as parents and children I had interacted with over the previous decade. The love and support I received from these individuals and organizations helped to fuel my early morning work sessions. And when it was time to create my sample board I contacted two of the most creative people I'd ever worked with. It just so happened that Nathan Mullen and Ellie Kilmon were high school students - while some questioned working with teenagers on something so important, I knew there were no better peeps for the task. The rest of my team was made up of Madeline Moffett and Matty Tall on the sketch, with David Grafton contributing. There were moments full of doubt and exhaustion - but every time I was ready to quit, I found another burst of energy and moved further ahead. 

The excitement of this prospective project eclipsed any other ambitions I had been considering. And it was an awesome moment when I realized that even if I didn't get the project the possibility of it had become a catalyst to answering my previously asked questions. Yes, this life full of potential is what I want. After more than a decade of this life, I keep learning that I can really do anything I set my mind to.   Undoing the self doubt I have been taught is an ongoing project - but with each passing year I can say I'm living life to my fullest potential. The importance of the company that I choose to keep was once again a lesson to learn. Theres just no room for the negative people. I find that they only stick around as long as you are doing work for them, and usually sort themselves out in the long run.

When I recieved the news that the project was mine I was overwhelmed with gratitiude. And while the project itself posed new challenges that were both exciting and frustrating, there was never a prouder professional moment than when I stood back. Now  I prepare to begin a new project I have been selected for. And I've got the best people around me, my friends and family, so I don't worry too much about the challenges that lay ahead.


Wednesday, January 14, 2015

You Can Stay or You Can Go


I don't believe in living a scripted life. Mindlessly going through the motions, reciting words that we think that we should say because it's the "right" sentiment to express. Passionless expression - it's so easy now - all we have to do is hit the "like" or "share" button on our FaceBooks and it almost feels like we've taken a stand. It almost feels like we've taken action. But it's a false accomplishment. 

I've not always been much better. It's hard to turn my attention to something that isn't directly affecting my world at the moment. But then it does, and along with fear and panic, comes the guilt of wishing I hadn't waited until I was drowning to pay attention.

Addiction rocked my world almost 10 years ago when I watched my loved one suffer from the disease. It tore apart my world and my dreams for my family. I had no idea how to help and felt completely lost and overwhelmed. And hurt and frustrated. Hadn't I done everything "right"? Why was this happening?" Questions that I asked over and over. I didn't understand addiction, and wasted a lot of time taking it personally. Simultaneously a close friend began to struggle. I suddenly realized that the disease of addiction was all around me, and I started to wonder why I didn't know or understand more.

A big part of the problem was, and is, the shame associated with addiction. And the shame breeds silence. A suffocating silence so stealth and lethal it prevents family and friends from asking for help - denial laced with humiliation. 
We all want to be strong, and in control. And so we don't tell the people around us when we're in trouble. I remember what shocked me the most, as I attempted to organize an intervention for my friend, was her family's response. They coldly thanked me for my concern but could I please mind my own busines. I am sad to say that my friend has never received the help needed. I continue to watch her struggle.

I look at my children and wonder what magic will protect them - I would love to bury my head in the sand and pretend I've done all the "right" things to keep them safe. But the truth is, addiction penetrates even the closest families and the sweetest children. I have openly discussed addiction with my kiddos since they were little. "Protecting" them from these truths only makes them vulnerable. I have to be mindful of my own thoughts of denial - "Kids like mine would never take such risks." But that's just not the case. And so I arm them with information and truth and pray they will know how to make smart choices and then also know how to ask for help when they need it.

We all need to wake up and look at the truths around us. We need to have open, real conversations with each other and with our children. Rolling the dice and waiting to see if this is "your" issue is the worst kind of gambling. Don't be confused - choosing to play pretend and ignore what's happening in our community and to our youth is putting your loved ones at risk. 

When Talley Wilford had me read his script "You Can Stay or You Can Go," I knew that it was important. Talley's story chronicles his real-life friendship with Matt Schilling, a great kid who had every opportunity to succeed. Sadly heroin took his young life. Since we have been promoting the project we have met and talked with families whose children were destroyed and taken by heroin. Their grief is palpable, and their only consolation is working towards educating other families. I look at the pictures of their lost children and can't help but cry. That sense of helplessness washes over me, but only for a second. Because working on this project, talking openly and honestly and creating solutions is the anecdote to the struggle our community faces. Our picturesque small towns do not protect our families. This epidemic is in our back yard. 

Don't make excuses, take action now. Be a part of the solution. If nothing else, support the people who are. 

Click on the link and give what you can and help us do this important work.

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/896538845/you-can-stay-or-you-can-go-a-feature-film