How to eat an elephant

Yesterday, mid-morning, I picked up the phone. It was my sister calling from Toronto, she had just opened the envelope with the tickets I had sent her and my dad for the fair.

“THAT’S what you do??” She asked me incredulously. “This is the event you guys do?”

After a few minutes of seriously berrating my grown-up kid-sister (dude, don’t you read my blog??) I think she figured it out. Yes, it’s a big deal; yes, we plan an event in Toronto from offices in Vancouver; yes, it’s a lot of art. On the other end of the phone, dead silence.

“I don’t get it,” she said. “How do you plan an event like this?”

“Simple,” I said. “The same way you eat an elephant, one piece at a time.”

It’s a long-way around a simple story, a simple story that takes a year to tell (and A, you better be reading my blog now!) and it’s frought with drama, intrigue, suspense, bloody battles, and a few convivial nights.

We’re just two weeks from the start of the fair. The catalogues are printed and waiting patiently in their glossy little jackets for artful hands to greedily thumb through the pages. Each of one hundred-plus booths have been painstakingly designed, the materials ordered, carpenters standing by to start the big build. A king’s court of curators, editors, dealers and collectors are fine-tuning and tweaking their plans for talks, tours, and special presentations. You see, we’re close. So close.

You eat an elephant the same way you build a show, one piece at a time. One gallery, one ticket, one day at a time.

Fourteen days to go, one day at a time.

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