At SPX I was interviewed by a man who wouldn’t have looked out of place here in Portland. As it turned out, he works for this magazine called National Geographic. I told him I’d heard of it. He wrote a post about Falling Rock and a handful of other nature-themed comics, and you can read it right here:
There is no better feeling than setting up a table of comics within spitting distance of our nation’s capitol. Just think: President Obama could waltz into the Marriott Bethesda North Hotel & Conference Center and see my work! The chances of this happening were small (and in fact it did not happen) but were much greater than at any other show I have ever exhibited at.
I was able to stop by the Prez’ house on my way out of town. Barack was not in (I tried knocking) but I did get to see the Presidential Beehive, so nobody can say I went away empty handed. My hands were full of honey, which is okay because I paid for those bees.
This was my first SPX, and I could not have been happier with the outcome. Sure, I’d heard success stories from my friends. My tablemate Reid told me of the year he sold 40 foldy comics. Kenan, always the optimist, recalls how he had “a great show, which for anybody else would be considered a mediocre show.” Neil, never one to kiss and tell, considers SPX the best show that he doesn’t help organize. These stories aside, there is no better way to experience a good show than to actually be at a good show.
There is a bit of dead wall space at my gym. It appears to be part of the air circulation system. Most of the time, this space is used for advertisements. Recently, however, management has apparently been unable to entice someone to pay for its use. Far be it from them to let it go to waste. In the absence of advertisements, they have tacked up an American flag.
Really, what could be more patriotic than a space used alternately for advertisements or the American flag?