In Which I'm Not Complaining- Artful Body

*wanders in and starts dusting*
Yeah. I know. It's been awhile. Sorry about that




In, oh I dunno, 2004 or -5 maybe I started Extreme Hareem to do henna. That's it. I thought it would be good. I had recovered from my accident, done some traveling, was reevaluating my performance career and had been doing henna off and on for a decade at that point. I wasn't sure how important performing was to me anymore and the opportunity to do henna fell into my lap. I took it and started to do some street fests and mostly pirate and ren shows around the northeast. I did well enough that when Ted moved in, I put him to work. We had fun. It was extra money. It was silly.


One event their face painters backed out and we were asked to take up the slack. Huh. I knew nothing about color theory or face paint but what the hell? People liked what we did and even then I knew enough to get face paints from the local shop that supplies theater companies, looking back I can only say we were okay. Not great. Not bad. Henna was still our primary art. We got into bigger fests and I needed to learn what I was doing. I was just winging it really. Like I said, extra money. No real profit margin. Mehron liquid paints (not good for fp, for those who don't know) but they were safe. It worked and we just kinda sailed along in an eddy.

But I was also getting burned out. I was working a 40 hour a week job, trying to figure all this body art stuff out and that's when Ted left. I decided to take the summer off except for some major events that I didn't want to lose (and am so glad I did, it rained most of that summer and I would have lost money). That was also when I realized that Extreme Hareem was meant for henna and that incorporating face paint nulled the name. It was confusing. I debated and deliberated and turned it into Artful Body but only at that handful of places, kind of testing waters. That was 2009.

The following year we decided to do a soft relaunch as Artful Body. I developed a business plan and decided to put it into action. Mark and I worked almost every weekend at small festivals. It was lovely to be there with him but we decided we needed help. I brought in two people to help out on two late season weekends, and it worked amazingly. A little light went on in my head that if I could pull it off, I could set up booths for these girls, train them in my style of the art and send them out.

In 2011, with the help of a money investment from a friend, I was able to purchase additional supplies and do some advanced training, which I brought back to my crew (or paint family, as we've come to call it). This meant I could send out people and increase our festival coverage of the area. It was a good plan. A solid plan. It worked to the point where Mark and I were still going out and I had to bring in another artist.
This process has kept working for me. Of course there is more to it than that but, essentially, that's how I've done this...in 2 years. Each year I add a little more. Tweak things a little bit but the core of what we do is always advancing the training and having the right personalities of the people I am so blessed to bring in.

This year one of our stellar artists has found herself unable to come out and work (she moved and hoped she'd be able to make it out). We miss her terribly. With the unexpected expansion over winter- we picked up entertainment companies that kept us going as well as some birthday parties- we've been able to not lose momentum over winter but to keep it going. Normally our season starts with 1 or 2 small events in May, 1 or 2 in June. July will be packed. August is meh. Sept is busy. Last year we had a nice dose of private parties and some lovely corporate events.

This year fest season started in May, after a steady winter of sporting events, and have had stuff every single weekend since. We're getting festivals calling us and asking us to be there, or walking up to the booth and handing us an application right there. We've already tripled the corporate/ent company bookings from last year and have picked up (no joke) 3 more entertainment companies. Private parties? We just started our season and have already doubled what we did last year.

And I am short on people. Two new artists are being trained and one of our hawkers is also being trained as an artist. I need one, if not two more hawkers desperately (as one of my awesome ones from last year is working full time and going to school).

We are turning down work. We have conventions calling and asking us to be there. Haunted houses and such are already contacting us for the fall.

Originally the plan was to send out crews and stay home and manage so that I can fully launch my other businesses. However, it's not working that way. I'm going out every weekend, as is my crew, and we are still turning work away at this point -which I HATE doing. I feel like a dingy against a leviathon, paddling like crazy to keep from being swallowed whole.

It's scary too. The crew no longer has this as their "extra money". This is paying the rent for some of them. It's food money. Bill money. It became serious when that happened.

One of them said to me "It's such fun, such a release for me, that I don't even pay attention to how much I make. It's nice but the money isn't the important part."  It's wonderful but I bet if I stopped paying, they'd mosey along, not that I ever would but let's face it, this is work too. Hard work. Kids wiggling, sneezing on us and chatting away; parents hovering, art creation on the spot- even when the muses aren't tapping us on the shoulder. Hours in the sun, humidity, in a room with a bunch of happy, bouncing, squealing teenage girls. It's exhausting work that should be compensated even though it is fun.

I spend hours every day doing paperwork, bookings, marketing, making sure they stay in money because I am terrified of losing my crew. They are absolutely amazing, all of them. Not perfect but amazing.

And every now and then I feel overwhelmed. I have to take a step back and breathe. I have to look at all of this and ask myself if I still love doing it, and every time the answer is yes. I love seeing the smiles, the surprise, the joy when the "canvas" sees their art. I love hearing the stories from the crew when we all come together and I see them laughing over some of it, or regaling over the challenges of painting a killer bunny on a kid, or dealing with a parent who wanted to glitter up his 7 week old. It's fun.

I'm not sure any of them know how much I put into this. Every day looking for something more for them to do, to try, to keep us not only in events but also one step ahead and better than the "competition". We need to stay challenged and interested in the art side too. We have to always leave the others in the dust in order to get these bookings. It's a lot of pressure for me to learn these things and then translate them to the crew. Always something more. Always growing. Always going forward. Always working. I literally wake up forming emails in my head.

With the larger number of people I also find that I am human services dealing with scheduling, conflicts, personal conflicts, complaints, pay sheets, tracking, etc. I do so much more paperwork than art these days. I have no HR training. I'm making this up as I go and hoping that I do a good job at it.

Some days I'm not sure which motivates me more- the desire to do art or the desire to keep my crew in business. I fear failing them more than myself, which is a huge switch from how it used to be with me. The days of "Well, it's a hobby." are long over.

But I've also learned a lot about me in this process. About what I enjoy and the lengths I will go to. For me this isn't a business about art and money. I mean sure it is, sure. It can't exist without them but this is a business of people. Of the happiness of those hiring us, the smiles on the kids, the relief of the parents, the laughter of the adults who indulge their inner child and get a glitter tattoo, the "henna hugs" when someone loves the piece so much they throw and arm out to the side and hug me. It's about my crew, my artists being able to do art that they love, that they believe in, to benefit from those smiles and laughter and hugs too. It's about my hawkers absolutely beaming when they see the joy, excitement and giggles they create for passersby whether they get decorated or not. It's about the stories of connections with other vendors, a community of gypsy-spirited souls in its own right. 

In the end, as I became overwhelmed today by all this is become, as I look to the future and wonder what beast this will be next year or in 3 years, I realized it's the people that keep it going for me- because that's who this is all about.
Not me.
Them.
And I really do adore them.

At the same time, I miss spending nights writing until the wee hours. I miss the stories and the characters flowing from my fingertips.
I miss gardening. I grew the seedlings and they are holding on for dear life, because I think they know I will get them in the ground- soon, I hope.
I miss curling up with tea and reading while watching a movie and sharing that time with Mark and Noah. I miss the ability to just take off and go for a hike or to the beach with my family because Mark works weekdays.

This past weekend Mark and I saw each other on Thursday night. He saw the back of my head on Fri morning as he left for work. I was gone to a gig by the time he got home. I saw the back of his head (as he was in bed sleeping) when I returned. When I woke, he was gone to a gig. The entire weekend went like that until Sunday afternoon. I have an amazing husband to handle that, not only handle that, but he worked for me at a booth. That blows my mind. He enjoys it. He wouldn't do it if he didn't but still...I am so freakin' lucky to have his support. He's amazing, and I missed him over those days.

I need to get back into the garden, into writing and schedule more time with the family as a whole- not just in bits and pieces. Those are not sacrifices I was prepared to make for Artful Body.

Still, it's good. It's still growing. I suppose it's a lot like gardening really. I didn't just start it and have it grow. I've nurtured it, fed it, snipped and tucked and anchored it. It's not the wildling I like to think it is because I know if I stopped advertising, handing out cards, pushing as hard as I do it would slowly suffocate.
I suppose that in the end, as the leviathon swallows me up, I only have myself to blame. But really, I'm not complaining. I'm marveling. Everyday I marvel.
And that is never a bad thing.