“I’m the worst, I’m totally garbage at scheduling” is not
an excuse; it’s just a sign that you were raised by wolves.
Cape Elizabeth Cliffs, by Carol L. Douglas |
I’ll be thinking of them as I paint at Cape
Elizabeth Paint for Preservation. No, I do not think my career is more
important than my old friend, but I was accepted to this event before she
announced the date.
Back in the last millennium, etiquette mavens taught that
the only proper reason to break a prior commitment was an invitation to the White
House. I’m liberal enough to include a personal emergency or a date in court,
but the principle was that your word, once given, is inviolate.
![]() |
Painting in Cape Elizabeth Paint for Preservation last
June. (Photo courtesy of Karen Lybrand)
|
It can be difficult to maintain this policy. Last autumn, I’d
signed up for Plein Air Brandywine
Valley when my daughter invited me to London and Bath. I had no prior relationship
with the show and my family was very persuasive. My husband went to England; I
painted in Pennsylvania. I liked Children’s
Beach House, the sponsoring organization, enough that I’ll be back again
this year.
I think it’s no bad thing to be reliable. One of the few
things I regret decades later is having flaked on someone who was really counting
on me.
Modern culture has a bad
reputation for flaking, or not showing up when you say you will. Having given
three weddings for my daughters, I’ve experienced this first-hand. The worst
offenders, by the way, have not been much-maligned millennials, but people who
are old enough to know better.
“Technology makes it so much easier to flake out,” said
clinical psychologist Andrea Bonior. “It's infinitely easier and less awkward
than having to talk to someone by phone or, worse, tell them in person.”
Painting in the cold rain at Brandywine last autumn. |
But showing up when you promise is as important to festival
organizers as it is to the mother of the bride. Organizers invest a great deal
of time and energy on a short list of painters, one they’ve carefully selected
through a complex process of invitation or jurying. Your name and work have
been assiduously promoted to their lists, and they encourage your fans to come
to their event.
Most committees work on their event all year long, and they
work indefatigably during the run-up and the week of the event. Much of the
work is done by volunteers, working alongside paid staff. The work involved in
putting on a successful plein air competition is staggering; it is probably
equal to organizing a white tie dinner at Buckingham Palace.
Some events have runners-up to fill last minute gaps. But
even these shows will have publicized your presence to their punters. Not
showing up leaves them plugging a mystery “Special Guest” in the place of their
headliners.
So, if you’re thinking of bailing on an event, don’t. And if
you must, make sure you have an awfully good reason—your own death, for example.
“I’m the worst, I’m totally garbage at scheduling” is not an excuse; it’s just
a sign that you were raised by wolves.