Connoisseur's Marketplace

On Saturday, we went to the Connoisseur's Marketplace in Menlo Park. We parked by the Caltrain station behind Kepler's and walked a block over to Santa Cruz Avenue.

The Marketplace is essentially an art and wine festival. Every town, big or small, seems to have one and they're all pretty much the same. Of course, being the same isn't necessarily a bad thing. It's a great way for towns to bring the community together and boost commerce in their downtown districts. It's a way for families to spend the day in a kid-friendly environment without having to travel great distances or spend lots of money. It's like bringing the circus to town without the caged animals or creepy clowns.

Like most festivals, the Marketplace offered food, refreshments and live entertainment. Unlike most, it also had free cooking demonstrations. It was probably one of the larger festivals I've attended. On Santa Cruz Avenue, it started from the El Camino Real and continued westward for what seemed like miles. In reality, it was probably less than a half-mile, but pungent odors, abstract art and dogs wearing hats have a way of distorting my sense of distance.

In addition to the food and drink vendors, most of the restaurants and cafes were open for business. After perusing the food choices, I settled for a four-dollar hot dog on a sesame bun. Considering the price, it didn't taste bad.

To ease my guilt over devouring a hot dog, I followed it up with a bag of carrots and some applesauce. They were delicious and, more importantly, free. An organic food tent was handing out samples to the curious and health-conscious on hand. As a reward for eating vegetables, I had a double scoop of Tin Roof Sundae from Baskin-Robbins.

If one attends enough of these festivals, it becomes apparent which vendors are regulars. There is one photographer (I can't recall his name) whose work I must have seen previously in Pacifica and Half Moon Bay. I can always tell that it's the same one by a particular aerial shot of San Francisco. The entire photo is black and white with the exception of SBC Park, which is in vivid color. I wonder how many copies of that print he has actually sold.

Along with a number of booths selling photographs (everybody has a camera nowadays), vendors were selling paintings, ceramics, clothing, jewelry, sculptures and an eclectic assortment of other knickknacks that I can only classify as "stuff". I somehow managed to navigate through the sea of stuff without accidentally buying any of it.

Afterwards, we stopped in at Color Me Mine for a quick ceramic painting session. It was the first time I had ever been to one of these studios, so the whole process was new to me. On their site, they provide a handy six-step how-to guide, but as far as I can tell, these are the real six steps involved:

1. Select the object you want to make into a masterpiece.
2. Think up a design or theme for your masterpiece.
3. If nothing comes to you, don't let it stop you from selecting a color palette.
4. Begin defacing painting the object in the hopes that an epiphany will strike before you can't cover up what you've already painted. (Hint: Start with light colors)
5. Hand over what was to be your piece de resistance for them to fire in the kiln and hope that it's a magic kiln that can transform your handiwork into something that is at least presentable.
6. Five days later, bring it home and show it only to people willing to sign away their rights to make fun of or giggle at your artwork. Alternatively, take a photo of it and shamelessly post it on the web.

Seriously, though, it was a lot of fun to simply sit and paint. I haven't an ounce of artistic ability, but I don't think that should prevent me from pretending I do for an hour or two. It was a nice way to venture outside of my creative comfort zone and I wouldn't mind doing again.