7 Encounters Proving the Value of Art

Written By Brandi Fleck

An East Nashville Art Crawl Adventure

We were two-thirds of the way through the four-hour event, and a woman walked into my tent. She strolled around, taking in the paintings, aglow from our heavy-duty plastic patio lights. 

“What’s up with that goat?” she said. 

“It’s a mountain goat,” I said. 

“I see a waterfall though - is he standing in water?”

‘It’s really interesting you see water, because the Capricorn goat is sometimes depicted with a fish tail, being the sea goat. To me, this one represents both land and water, but I didn’t intend for the water to be so prominent,” I said. “Now that you mention it, it does look like he’s standing in water.”

“That’s the whole point of art - people see different things in it. Isn’t that so interesting?” she said.

Indeed. 

Earlier in the afternoon, right before art collectors and spectators alike started coming into the first ever East Nashville Art Crawl (update Aug. 2024: this particular art crawl has either closed it’s doors or rebranded since 2020), the sky was hazy but bright. I was dehydrated from setting up the art displays in a sweltering heat that I erroneously thought would be cooler at the beginning of Fall. I had to take off my sleeveless sweater tunic and take a break donning a black tank top - something I haven’t done in public since college. But, we were on black top - a paved parking lot behind a flea market type building with a buzzing and banging construction zone to our right side.

We had set up the tent up as far as possible in our space to create a little alley behind it where our two youngest kids could hang out - gaming and complaining and whatnot. Turns out, they had exemplary behavior that night, so much so that the photography gallery owner in the booth to our right commented on how good they were being. She said, “your kids are so well behaved!” 

I took the compliment with grace, but knew we were on borrowed time as it was getting late by that point and they’d had powdery food truck donuts. 

Anyhow, after chilling out in the alley behind our tent for a few, I popped my sweater tunic back on and started a Facebook Live to show the gallery to our online peeps who were interested. Excitingly, several collectors had already purchased online when we opened the virtual art shop that same morning, but we showed all the pieces, even the sold ones. 

The most interest was shown for “Little Jackie Coke,” one of the first pieces to leave our possession. “Are those mirrors behind the paintings? That’s so New York,” one visitor said. 

My painting? New York? Sweet. 

“Big Purple,” pictured below, got the most Oohs and Aahs from afar too, with people pointing and taking pictures from picnic tables across the way.

Electronic music blared from right beside us, and the event organizers were setting up the bar directly to our left. 

I was a little nervous, but 5 p.m. rolled around, the live music started, visitors strolled in, and then some interesting things started to happen.

Realizing How Art Makes a Difference

It’s easy to daydream about what impact art makes in a community when you’re making art but not seeing where it ends up or how people react to it online. It’s easy to think art helps shape us into better humans based on what you learn in school and knowing conceptually that expressing yourself is healthy. Exploring different parts of our physical world to express yourself in different, creative ways is healthy. 

Creating is a process in and of itself that helps us get to know ourselves and the Universe, really. 

But, as a creator, doubt creeps in occasionally. Personally, making art sometimes feels like an indulgence, even though it’s required for my life to be fulfilling. Isn’t that weird? Why does art feel like an indulgence if it’s a necessity in my life and always has been? 

As we grow into adults, art is oftentimes conditioned out of us. Creativity isn’t exercised. You get further if you can fit into certain boxes. Because of this, it can be hard to imagine the importance of art all the time.  

But, seeing the impact of art in real life action helped. It was magical.

It had been a while since I had to exercise customer service skills to the public. But I worked up the courage to start saying hi to people. If people hung out for more than a couple seconds, I would offer to answer questions. Mostly, people came and went with ease, viewing the art and even lingering to read the artist bio. 

People were wearing masks, as Nashville was still in phase two of reopening back in September. That meant mask mandates were still in force, social distancing was a goal, and we kept a Costco-sized hand sanitizer right at the front of our tent. And, a nice breeze made us feel safe. Keeping the kids behind the tent also helped us feel safe.

I didn’t really know what to expect other than masked people and a sparse crowd.

At first, it almost seemed like a normal outdoor event experience, but a few stand out encounters really left what I think will be permanent impressions.  

A Quick Encounter

The first stand out woman started talking to me after I said hi. She was tall with red hair - I don’t remember what her mask looked like, but she said, “It’s just so nice to see something beautiful right now, thank you” and then she walked away. I paused to consider what she was feeling. That’s when I realized this was no ordinary art crawl.

A Blast From My Past

The next stand out encounter was from afar. An ex-boyfriend’s brother who I knew over a decade ago walked by with a woman. I had to do a double take, but there he was, walking by, with more gray hair than before, but the same familiar face and step. He was wearing a green bandana as a mask. He and his brother are musicians, and I appreciate their art, still, even though we’re strangers now.

I was glad to see him there, even though we didn’t actually talk to one another. It made me feel like we’re in a different timeline. We’re in a different life now. One of his songs inspired some of the artwork I had in the tent, so it was otherworldly feeling. And just like that, he was gone.

A Similar Fine Artist

Then, a vibrant couple popped into the outdoor booth. They were the ones who thought “Little Jackie Coke” was so New York.

They were very enthusiastic and started asking questions - it didn’t take long to realize a curious artist was considering taking the plunge into Nashville art crawls and wanted to know if it was worth it. She noted my pricing and that my style was closely related to hers. I gave her my card and said to feel free to connect with me after the show. 

She did, and I told her all the lessons I learned. Check out her art: hannahpierry.com.

She and (who I assume is) her husband reminded me of my life over a decade ago. I made different choices in that time in my life, and took a different timeline then. I lost art after that for a while back then, at least in some ways, and seeing her art makes me happy. 

She seems super happy. You go girl. I bet we’ll cross paths at another art crawl in the future.

My Happy Girl

A woman really felt the story she read on the information card next to “My Happy Girl:”

‘My Happy Girl’ was born after a painting hiatus when life was really tough - right before a divorce and right after a new baby, Brandi doodled on some apple sauce pouch chipboard rather than throwing it away. What came out was a beautiful reminder that no matter what you’re going through in life, you still have joy inside you! 

This painting that is the most near and dear to Brandi was created in 2014 and packed away never to see the light of day again until now.

She touched her heart, furrowed her brow, and said it got to her. I bet she’s been where I was back in 2014. Her and a friend spent about 20 minutes in the booth reading all the stories. Then her friend said she enjoyed knowing the story behind the art. It was nice talking to them. 

It’s nice to know you’re not alone.

A Franklin Connection

A woman and her boyfriend entered the tent. They looked and read and looked and read. She had her sights set on “Inertia.” 

“Make me an offer,” I said. 

“The problem with that is I believe in paying full price,” she said. 

Ok, I totally understand that and I’m not about high pressure, so I went back to the front of the tent, masked and noticing that the crowd was dwindling. 

She read the artist bio hanging near the front, then said to me she’s from Franklin too. Her boyfriend then got excited at the Franklin connection. He asked me if I’d come down on price. At the beginning of the night, I hadn’t intended to, but I decided to this one time.

The from-Franklin woman told me her house was recently flooded and she was having a bathroom redone to repair the damage and she needed something for the hallway. She could see exactly where “Inertia” would go. She was so excited. She wanted to keep the info card and noticed that we were wearing a similar half moon/upside down horseshoe shaped necklace. 

After we finished awkwardly wrapping “Inertia” in bubble wrap, they were off and happy. 

I was left thinking about how we cross each others’ paths, even if only briefly, for a reason. 

I don’t know if I’ll ever see this collector again, but in a different timeline we might be friends.

The Goat Encounter   

This was the most stand out interaction I had that night, with the Franklin Connection and High School Reunion tying for a close second. 

The goat conversation you read at the beginning of this post started about a 15-minute interaction.

After we finished talking about the marvel of people interpreting art in different ways and what she thought the purpose of art was, she told me she was overwhelmed by all the beautiful art she’d seen throughout the night. She said she was truly inspired. She said this was the first art crawl she’d ever been to, and it gave her hope. 

She started to cry. 

I asked the woman if she was an artist. She said she mostly does nails, but there were a few other projects she’s started and hopes to continue. Then she confessed it’s just so hard to find the time when “everybody else needs so much all the time.” I don’t know if these are people depending on her, if she was talking about family, or friends, but you could see the overwhelm on her face. You could see life taking its toll in her young face. 

I listened until she was done talking. I didn’t say much, and I hope that’s okay.

I think of her often. And I think about how art isn’t an indulgence. It’s necessary.

High School Reunion

A couple walked into the booth - the man was tall, towering over his wife, who approached me about “Just a Dab Will Do.” She was excited because she does some pointillism work too. They were at the crawl because a friend of theirs had a booth across the way and they decided to walk over while doing a round to survey the other artists. The husband read the artist bio, and said, “Hey Brandi. I didn’t know you were an artist!” 

A little befuddled, I stared at his masked face for a minute. He pulled down his mask and at first sight of his beautifully waxed mustache, I knew it was an old friend. He hadn’t recognized me in my mask either at first. 

He formally introduced me to his wife, I introduced them to my husband, and we ended up talking basically until the art crawl shut down. I learned all about The Wife’s election working experience, schooling, and how she and her husband met. Turns out, we know a lot of the same people. 

The husband and I have reconnected on Facebook and his wife and I are now officially connected for the first time, and it’s so awesome. 

Strength in Numbers - The Other Artists

There were about 30 artists at the art crawl that night. There were brilliant florals, morbid sculpture, counter-culture and sub-culture statements being made left and right with damaged Barbies and found materials in collages and mixed media masterpieces. There were traditional painted abstracts, still lives, celebrity portraits, and realistic wonders. There was photography too. I loved it all.

Artists ranged from young to old, hippie to punk, Black to white, with most genders represented. Artists were from Nashville and many different parts of surrounding areas to Nashville. There were food trucks too - Mmm, The Grilled Cheeserie is so damn good.

Aside from grilled cheeses, fried chicken, and beer though, I kept seeing people walk out with these huge pieces of, I think, wood with what looked like bright graffiti type statements underneath shiny resin. The man selling these was a master at what he was doing. I wish I knew his name. I think a lot of people do. 

When my husband and I were tearing down our tent after the show, one of the event workers told me he did better than the people putting on the event. Now that is impressive. 

That means it is possible to make a living doing what you love. It is possible.

At the end of the day, each artist brought in their own followers and gained exposure to new collectors and spectators. Each artist impacted every person there in one way or another, and those people who attended were able to go back to their lives a little richer for coming, all money aside.

And even though I won’t be at anymore East Nashville Art Crawls in 2020, many brilliant artists will be, so go support them in your own way. Or, if you’re an artist, why not register to be a vendor?

Finding the Lesson

I came away from the art crawl exhausted. That night, I concluded that it was a massive amount of work for little financial return - a lot, and I mean A LOT of effort goes into vending at an art crawl that goes unseen and unacknowledged. 

For eight weeks, I had worked non stop on one-time set up purchases and planning. I finished unfinished paintings, varnished and varnished some more, installed hanging hardware, engineered how to hang art on chains without the art flipping around too much, learned how to accept payment on Square, started loading up inventory on the website and into Square, planned for how to keep inventory straight depending on if sales came from online or in person. And the shipping, oh my, the shipping rates are so confusing. I made calls to UPS, crunched numbers, and learned how to keep it all straight in my website interface. Meanwhile, my husband was busy making concrete weights for the tent and holding down the fort with cooking and cleaning as I worked late into the night, especially in the four weeks before the art crawl. 

Leaving the show, I was honestly discouraged. I was discouraged that night, the whole next day, and then the day after that, the clouds started to lift little by little.

When I realized I was discouraged, I started taking stock of progress and wins, even if small. I knew that eventually this would help shift my perspective. And it did.

What stood out the most were the connections, even the fleeting ones. And, the people who came were tired and looking for something bigger than themselves, even if they didn’t physically take it home with them. 

Ultimately, art is about communicating our stories, our existence, our emotions, our humanity. And art is not just about the artist. It’s about the community that consumes the art and brings different pieces of their own story to the art. It’s about the community connecting with the artist. So, even if art doesn’t always sell for one reason or another, it does its job if it creates a discussion, creates connection, if it inspires, and if it makes a commentary or positive emotion that ripples out into our society and culture.

So, I’ll be doing in person art events again in the future. The effort from first time set up and planning won’t have to be repeated, no doubt, but I’ll be strategic about which art crawls I apply to and the number will be limited - and that’s if the events reopen and come back when its safe. But, the effort is worth it because…  

Your story matters, whether you’re the artist or the collector. And that’s really cool.

 Rock on,