So…the StARTup Art Fair. No regrets!

My husband and I packed up the truck and drove six hours from LA to San Francisco. We arrived a day early, which was great—it gave us time to load in without rushing. The next morning, we laid out the room, hung the work, applied my name in vinyl letters, and stuck battery-powered lights to the ceiling to illuminate everything. I was sharing the room with a good friend (and excellent artist) and our work complements each other’s so it made for a fun weekend.

Before the show started the director of the fair stopped by, and I surprised him with a loaf of homemade sourdough that I baked that morning.

During the pandemic, I discovered that giving someone a home-baked loaf of sourdough bread makes them feel special—so now I make a point of bringing one to new friends. The next day he told me he ate the whole loaf that night. I’d totally forgotten that San Francisco is the home of sourdough, so I guess that was a pretty solid endorsement!

I was exhausted before the show even started, but over the next three days, I was lifted up by the hundreds of people I met. I had some really interesting conversations—lots of folks shared their experiences reading comic books as a kid or working in the industry. A few other artists at the fair used comics in their work, too, and one was especially knowledgeable about the illustrators referenced in my work. I love listening to and learning from artists.

This fair’s Director brought the visiting Los Angeles Art Association Collector’s Group through to meet five of the artists and he chose our room as their first stop. Their visit was a surprise to me, and to the organization’s director, as I’m also a member of this group.

*A surprise opportunity to practice my pitch.*

My timing was good because just minutes before they arrived, I’d put out this year’s LAAA book of featured artists. When I received it a week ago I was pretty happy to see my piece “Fly Me” on the cover.

*“Girl Fight” and “Fly Me” are from my* *Appliance Series*.

It was great to get feedback from strangers on this new comic bookwork. The didactic explained the concept, but since many people didn’t notice it, my partner or I would explain that these out-of-context stories used unaltered original artwork (except for hair or clothing colors).

The storylines were mine, but the words were true to the original source material. While the work can be a bit racy, I try to inject humor—and I love seeing people smile and hearing people laugh at the storylines. A few kids ran into the room and straight up to the work (this little one came real close!), but I figured they weren’t really grasping the content, so, like the mom, I just watched them interact with the work. Hey, when I was a kid, I had no idea of the adult content in Bugs Bunny cartoons either.

*She went right up to the most girlie piece.*

Speaking of hidden content, one visitor left this review on my Instagram that was so articulate (she’s not an art critic) that I had to feature it on my website. Here it is:

I was so impressed… Julie Lipa’s art transforms old cartoon panels into something entirely fresh and unexpected. By skillfully cutting and remixing classic comics, they create new narratives that are clever, nostalgic, and sexy! It’s like flipping through a familiar childhood book only to discover secret messages that were always there—just waiting for grown-up eyes.

What makes the work especially fascinating is how it reveals something we often forget: sexy, suggestive themes have been woven into cartoons for decades. Through smart recontextualization, Julie brings that subtext to the surface—not by adding anything new, but by rearranging what was already there.

Whether you’re a fan of vintage comics, visual storytelling, or cultural archaeology, this is the kind of work that sticks with you. It’s not just playful—it’s a subtle, subversive commentary on how much (and how little) has changed.

I went into this fair with zero expectations, so it was a pleasant surprise to sell three originals, three prints, and three smalls (Fly Me keychains). I’m not into numerology, but I liked what I read about the number 333.

It’s considered an angel number—a sign of positive change, success, and encouragement to trust your abilities and intuition, especially in your career. It suggests you’re on the right path and your hard work will lead to growth and new opportunities.

Blah, blah, blah…I’ll take it!

On the way back to LA, we took a scenic route that added about an hour to the drive. We found an empty picnic table all to ourselves on a sweet little beach near the swank Bacara Hotel, ate our leftovers from Marina Indian & Nepalese Cuisine, (this SF resto is highly recommend for its authenticity!) and made it home before sunset.

*Perfect spot for a leftover lunch with my favorite person.*

After the fair, I was concerned that I would fall into a funk. I’d look back on the experience and wonder why I’m committing so much energy to this process of selling my ideas. Why would someone want this hanging on their walls? Would they get tired of the message or continue to find new things to look at? Would the work inspire an epiphany that would question a social norm or maybe the owner would decide that norm no longer applies to them? Why am I deciding that my worth is based on my work selling? These are not unique thoughts, but it’s what happens to artists after a show.

It turns out one way to avoid post-show depression is by immediately lining up another diversion. Having the Ontario Museum’s 13th Biennial Open Art Show reception two weeks later was a great distraction. The show had over 150 works on the walls and the turnout was huge. I was happy to see that Motown got its own wall—and it was the first thing I saw when I walked into the exhibit space. It looked great. It’s for sale and will be hanging there through July 20, 2025, so if you’re passing through, check it out.

*Signed, Sealed, Delivered (It Can be Yours)*

Now that both events are behind me, I’ve got another distraction lined up. I’m taking a short break to celebrate my birthday month and organize all the garage contents and art supplies that are still sitting in my living room. The 7 x 13 shed is almost built and I promised myself only 1/3 of what’s hanging around will go back in there. The day before we left for San Francisco, I spotted this sweet toolbox on Marketplace so with only hours to spare I quickly scrambled to find a furniture mover to deliver this 350 lb tool bench to me. It’s gonna be fun organizing this, too!

Sorting through all this stuff may sound like a drag to you but it’s a very meditative process and clears my head for the next phase of work. I’ll be ready to get back to it in June. Hopefully, I’ll have some news to share then.

In the meantime, spend time with your friends and family. Eat and laugh together. Tend to your garden. Bake some bread to give away. Focus on what is actually within your control. Indulge when you can, and enjoy your spring!

Julie

How to Avoid Post Show Depression

A Museum, an Art Fair and a Renovation