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chickee talk

Winter
Art
Markets

by Tina Marie Osceola
eing a Naples resident, January on because in the 1970’s we didn’t have enough money to eat at
and February are always exciting. restaurants or even drive-thrus. It’s funny, I don’t remember feeling
BI think an important aspect of like we were missing out. Grandma and Aunt Tahama would cook
Naples’ magical charisma is its support of up hard boiled eggs, lapaale (pan bread), fried salt pork bacon, fried
the arts. Whether it is fine arts or arts and beef, hot dogs, you name it! Once we got to Cherokee, we cuddled
crafts, Naples is such a wonderful place for up in the warmest clothes and enjoyed the change of scenery, the
markets, shows, festivals, and art markets! I am sure I bore people fall leaves, the hills (Florida is so flat), and the fact we could see
with my incessant blabber about beads, beading, beadwork, bead our breath! One year, I must have been in first grade, it rained a
shopping, I can’t help myself, but I had quite the winter! lot!! The bathrooms were at the top of a little hill and the beaten
Southwest Florida really outdid itself this year. I must give a down path had become super muddy. Well, I had decided to wear
shout out to the Naples Art Institute for its annual New Year’s my best dress. It was bright red velvet with white, green and red
Art Fair at Cambier Park in downtown Naples. It started off my patchwork with these really cool bell sleeves. My luck being what
annual weekend pilgrimage to non-tribal art shows. For those of it is, I lost traction because I was wearing my bright red patent
you who were in Naples the first weekend of January, you may leather go-go boots! The slick bottoms, combined with the muddy
remember what felt like a monsoon blowing through Naples on terrain, led to my demise! I ended up in a muddy ball of shame at
the first Saturday of the new year. Although I didn’t try to wade the bottom of the hill. I always wore my hair in two long ponytails
through the puddles to visit the countless vendors huddled under or braids, but that day I had my hair down and two small braids
their tents at Cambier, I did take advantage of the drier weather framed my face. The mud turned my hair into a Medusa-like
on Sunday. I had many conversations with artists who were very tangle! To make matters worse, my parents thought I had been
relieved to get one good day out of the two, but I must say they all playing and purposely slid down the muddy hill. Needless to say, I
seemed very exhausted from their struggles the day before. was muddy, cold, and mad at the injustice. Nothing like triggering
It often feels like no one really appreciates what goes into life a memory with rain, muddy puddles, and art shows!
as an art market vendor. The investment in your booth fees, travel, Regardless of the memories, the New Year’s event sparked
taxes, supplies, displays, as well as the long hours spent setting a burning desire to attend more. I wanted more jewelry, more
up and taking down. This was the life of my family when I was artistic stimulation, and of course, inspiration! I followed up with
growing up, so although I get a bit nostalgic at times, I do not miss the Art Fest at Riverside Park in Bonita Springs, the Art Fest
the back-breaking work, and the dependence on mother nature. at Fleischman Park, and the latest Art Fest at Coconut Point in
I remember our annual drive to Cherokee, North Carolina, Estero! I met so many cool artists and I cannot wait for next year!
for the Tribe’s annual fall festival. My brother, cousins, aunts, I plan on curating the winter month around these art shows. Get
and grandparents would load our cars up and make the trek out and support the arts! Oh, and wear your mud boots!
north. Grandma would always pack a lot of food for us to snack

16 Life in Naples | April 2024