Will the WNC and Asheville recover?
One of the biggest reasons I agreed to move to this area was because of the artistic vibe. I really loved the fact that Asheville and the surrounding mountain towns were so friendly to their local artists. Shops and restaurants were art-aware and looking to promote their local talents. People were going out on the Friday night art walks with their glasses of wine, discussing the new works on display and the goings on of the small town. Charcuterie boards out and laughter as the sun went down. I really like it here.
I never in a million years years imagined this laid back, woo-woo, working class, dog-loving, retired, well-heeled, touristy population having to come together to scavenge for grey water in order to flush their toilets.
I had some challenges at my home. Downed trees. Blocked access to the towns and nothing to buy at the supermarkets anyway. No electricity meant no water as well. But we were grateful. Grateful that we and our friends had all survived. That no one was unaccounted for. Grateful for the generator that could get turned on for 1 hour a day. Grateful for mild temperatures outside.
Could I complain about lost income, sales, prospective collectors and commissions? Could I complain about lost fees to apply to shows and the shows being cancelled causing me to lose the cost of my setup space? Could I complain about all of the work of hustling to get all my pieces ready and packed, along with a multitude of other items needed to run your business on the street for 2-3 days? Of course I could. I’m just a working artist like anybody else. I deserve to feel like my work means something. I work hard, to make what I have to offer, something that my clients will love and enjoy for years to come.
But I can’t complain at all. Because I know the reality of what is happening all around me. Not just landslides and inconvenient road hazards and downed power lines. I mean the people who are missing. The families who are now broken. Successful recovery missions that are heartbreaking for the workers and the families. I have nothing to complain about. I have nothing to say. Other than I am so sorry to all those who are grieving and to those who are still waiting to hear news. There’s nothing I can do to take that trauma away. But I am so very sorry for your loss.