July 28, 2014 by Beth Hess
An empty space becomes a showcase of wares. Blank rooms transform into a hall of treasure. Each unto her own area — designing said space carefully to match the mood and tone of the goods she will offer. Hand- and heart-crafted works laid out for public perusal.
So I, among the others, stage my assigned table. The right items. The right display pieces. The right incentives. The right posters hung behind me.
I fluff my dress. And my smile. And wait.
Many others around me have done the same. We nod politely in each other’s direction. We secretly hope what we have prepared will be more liked than theirs.
They are fine people all — I am sure — but I have no time to glance over when the public doors are open. I don’t know what brought them here or what they are offering or even how it could possibly serve my own needs.
Because I am here to be seen. Not to look.
This, my friends, is a convention. Not a… (continued here)