Mailbag:

I have been a part of the Sawdust Art Festival for the last 15 years. I served a number of those as a board member, which is a delicate, time-consuming and demanding job.

But the most delightful times were just being there as an artist, interacting with thousands of patrons, people who come for the first time or those who return again and again. The Sawdust is a beloved and integral part of the tapestry of our town with 200 charismatic artists, alluring music, great food and an atmosphere that entices customers back each year. The “Dust” has always been referred to as “family.”

This last summer, I became so distressed and disillusioned I now feel I have to speak out.

We, the artists, elect our board of directors to do a difficult job and to represent us, to listen to our gripes, questions and suggestions. Of course, being a self-governing entity composed of controversial, creative people, like any large family there will always be predicaments — infantile and profound.

But we are Big Business now, more and more like the Festival of Arts, that fabulous venue that we splintered from decades ago, citing its juries, its rules and its restrictions as being too confining for the spirit of a true artist. We were the vagabonds, the free flying makers of ART, the feisty, irrepressible artists of the Sawdust. We had personal conflicts and blazing success. We had fun!

Year by year, as the show became more organized, it became less flamboyant, bound to happen when more and more rules are applied. But it remained the best show around because of its vibrant past and its brilliant artists. But mostly because of its soul. And in spite of it all and because of it all, we still had fun.

But a strange thing happened this year. The sweet soul of “the Dust” was stolen. I know just when this hijacking began.

Two years ago, when the new general manager was hired, several well-loved and capable employees suddenly “resigned,” and another was fired. Much turmoil and unrest among the artists followed, remaining as the 2009 show started.

I don’t know exactly when the general manager became executive director of the Sawdust Art Festival, but there he was, exerting his power, with the board members unified behind him like nine little lemmings who had no guts. These are people who were elected to represent us, the artists.