The Lesson Of The Rubber Duck

      Friday night a week ago, July 6, the Gahanna Area Arts Council (see post from 3/5/2018), held it's premier First Friday Arts in the Alley, an event the purpose of which was to promote community interest in local creatives (those who create),  ​

...and to transform  Gahanna, Ohio, already a delightful place in its own rite,

...into a thriving arts community that celebrates its artists, musicians, poets, performers, writers, and creators of all genres and media.  Being myself a member of the Gahanna Area Arts Council,

...or maybe more of a part-time member; er, maybe a part-time occasional hanger-on-type member...Anyway, I'm on the email list and so I the  received the GAAC announcement that the organizers were looking for local creatives to represent at First Friday Arts in the Alley festivals in July, August, and September.
​       And so I bought a space for each date - $60 altogether for all three events, a phenomenal deal, thought I - from which to sell my creation.
       As my $20 fee clinched me a huge spot - 10' x 10', just for me - I decided to go big with my display, of which I did a practice-set-up in my living room. 

    On the evening of the event I arrived at my designated space in a meadow bordered by the back of the alley off Mill Street, the main drag through the neighborhood known as Olde Gahanna,

   (Mill Street)

​...where other artists and vendors were already setting up.

   There were also some representatives of community organizations,

...including the Columbus Art League,

...the representative of which, a friendly, super-nice guy named Kevin, helped me and others set up our spaces.

     Now, as I was setting up my space and observing others setting up theirs, I noticed from the corner of my eye some unusual activity going on nearby.

   It appeared that a giant rubber duck was inflating to life.

    It was, indeed, a giant rubber duck. With metal rings attached to its middle.

   After the duck was inflated there was a flurry of activity around it as workers fiddled with it then set up easels and photographs.

   However by then event-goers were beginning to arrive,

...and so I had no time to walk over and check out the duck, as I had to woman my table.

     Eventually Tom - who'd arrived with me but had to run back home to pick up some provisions I'd forgotten to bring - returned to man the table for me for a while and I was able to stroll around the grounds and have a look at the displays of some of the other artists and vendors.

    As I strolled around the festival - which I was finding quite delightful - it occurred to me that that best real estate of the evening was the spaces that were located at the end of the alley close to Mill Street.

...which was where the crowds were mostly congregating,

...until I realized that, though most of the action was in the alley or near the front end of the meadow,

...everybody eventually meandered over to see the giant rubber duck,

​...of necessity passing by my table on their way.

     And I'm sure it was thanks to the duck that I sold a decent number of books that night.

     Towards the end of the evening I had time to go look at the duck myself and learn its story.

     The description on the easel read:

     And I thought to myself,  What a wonderful world this could be.

    At the end of the night, after everyone had packed up and the rubber duck had deflated down to two big bright yellow mounds, Tom and I decided to grab a bite at the Gahanna Grill,

...which somehow looked kind of magical.