last day to pledge

Today is the last day to pledge toward my Kickstarter fundraiser for the creation and publication of Time, emiT, and Time Again. If you have been waiting to pledge, wait no longer. Time is running out!

In about 20 hours, the widget here will change from counting down the hours to saying I was “successful.” Which is awesome. For an attempt to try to raise funds to cover publishing costs by selling art, it has been a success. As you may already know, if you have looked at this kickstarter project’s progress at any time in the last 44 days, I actually surpassed my funding goal on day 1. I had two pledges on the first day, one for the “signed paperback, plus” level, at $15, and one for the “painting and everything else” level – at $500. Then last night my sister pledged another $15 – which I appreciate; she’s certainly my most loyal and supportive reader, always helping with editing and then buying the books she’s already read anyway. She has a full collection of every book I’ve published.

What I find troubling/frustrating is that in the time from the first day to the last, my project received no other pledges. I recognize that this may be, in part, because when they went to the page it said I’d already surpassed my $300 funding goal, having $515 in pledges from day one. I further recognize that it means that only 3 people (so far) considered this to be a good way to pre-order this book, and support the project.  Maybe I didn’t sell it well enough. Maybe people aren’t interested in time/love stories, sci-fi stories, or it’s the “short stories and essays” part that’s throwing them off. I don’t know. But I tried.

My furthest-reaching campaign was via podcast. I created an ad and had it inserted into 5 of my audiobooks over at Podiobooks.com. I realize it was a little long, at a full minute, and that the same ad played before every single episode of each book, so that some people may have gotten into the habit of skipping past it… I’m going to work on refining my advertising attempts in the future, I assure you. (Literally days after I submitted my ad plan to Evo, he sent out guides to the entire PB authors community explaining how to do better than I did – not mentioning me, just … basically, it felt like a response, addressing a laundry list of things I did “wrong”.) Still, the ad was attached to somewhere in the neighborhood of 19k+ episodes of my books. At a minimum (if there was 100% overlap of readers between books) around 475 people downloaded at least one episode with the ad, based on the stats I have, and perhaps more than 1650 listeners heard it. On my own podcast, the promo itself was downloaded another 50 or 60 times by itself, and I’ve mentioned it in four or five other episodes, to try to remind my readers about it. Now, since the first 2 pledges came before the ad started running, and the other pledge was from my sister, I know that advertising this on my podcasts has had a 0% response rate.

Hundreds of people visited this blog, over a thousand people follow me on twitter, I have another couple hundred ‘friends’ on facebook, and I’ve tried not to mention the fundraiser too often but I’ve certainly mentioned it plenty of times in the last 6 weeks. The backer that wasn’t my sister (and wasn’t for the painting – that guy is a patron who funds lots of kickstarter projects) came from someone who saw it on Facebook, so that was semi-successful. But blogging, twittering, podcasting, talking about it at parties to my longtime friends, and the rest of it seems to have drawn no interest.

I don’t know what else to do that I can afford to do. Yes, it was “successful” in that I reached the goal amount and will be able to print the book without going further into debt. Yes, this book will be profitable before the first copy is printed and sold, and will continue to be profitable just about forever (because while I’m not great at business, I at least know how to subtract). Yes, that’s wonderful and I’m grateful, and I’m looking forward to being able to continue using the sell-art-to-publish-books model in the future. I think it’s great.

Still, I wish I had a broader (paying) readership. People who were so looking forward to my next book that they’d be willing to pay $15 for a signed copy (or $1 for the eBook! Seriously!). I’ve had at least 6100 people download at least one of my eBooks or audiobooks (and perhaps as many as 28,000 people) in the last couple years. I know those aren’t “big” numbers, those certainly aren’t “big publishing” numbers, but if 1% of 6100 people had been willing to pay $15 for my next book I’d have had triple the amount currently pledged and could publish my next few books without worry. If one-tenth of one percent of 6100 people had pledged, I’d have had twice as many pledges as I do now.

It’s difficult to avoid the conclusion that people just aren’t interested in reading (or paying for) the books I’m authoring.

I suppose I’ll just have to keep working on it. Keep trying to be a better and better author. Keep trying to find new readers and new listeners, hopefully some who can afford to pay a few dollars a year to buy my books. Keep coming up with effective ways to keep profitable if/when that doesn’t happen. Persevere.

New story idea / it was all just a dream

As you know, if you’re following/backing my Kickstarter fundraiser for the publication of my next book, I’ve made some good progress on that project in the last 24 hours. I wrote the first draft of the first of the essays I’ll be including, and I began work on an idea for a new time-related short story. Actually, in the last 12 hours (since I first came up with the idea for the new story), I’ve written somewhat over 1200 words of notes, outline, and information toward the development of that story. I spent the last 3 hours trying to figure out how to start writing it, actually – it’s difficult to know where to begin, in a story with a lot of convoluted & iterative time travel, without a good idea of the entire sweep of the story.

As you may know (I don’t know whether I’ve mentioned it here), I’m not a fan, in general, of the “it was all a dream” story structure. For example, regardless of anything else it may have going for it, I consider Donnie Darko a piece of shit because it cancels out everything interesting that would have happened in it, if not for the time-altering resolution. I recently watched and complained online about several episodes of Stargate where “it was all a dream.” In one episode, we start in the future, follow the characters, the intrigue, the investigation, then the dramatic action sequence, the result of which is … nothing you just watched happened, because they sent a note back in time preventing it. In another episode we watch what seems like interesting character development, interesting action, and enigma-unravelling intrigue, but when they unravel it, it turns out the team was actually kidnapped, and everything we just watched never happened, it was just a dream the alien captors projected into their minds. There were three episodes in a row that did the same thing.

I don’t like it. I don’t like spending hour after hour watching or reading about events that, within the story’s own created rules/timeline/consistency, never happened. I don’t mind that it’s fiction. I know that fiction never happened. I don’t even mind something like fan-fiction, which I know isn’t canon & the events of which didn’t “actually” occur in the timeline of the original story. So I suppose it may be a subtle, difficult-to-define line. I suppose it has more to do with a particular structural technique within the story, rather than the basic concept of a story that “never happened.”

So … knowing how much I dislike “it was all a dream” stories, it was -momentarily- troublesome to me when I realized that there was an aspect of this sort of structure in the new story I’ve been developing.

Then I remembered what a “terrible” writer I am: My plan for the story is (and has been since I came up with it) to not tell the parts of the story that were cancelled out by time travel (except as first-hand accounts by witnesses from the alternate futures). I’ve been mapping out the (currently three) iterations of an epic space opera involving human colonization of the solar system, invasion by aliens, and humans’ various (and increasingly advanced) attempts to defend itself, making use of a modicum of time travel as a last-resort measure, over and over, and that’s why I have so many pages of notes already. I’m confident that I could, if I didn’t write the story in such a way that cut out all the action, adventure, romance, et cetera -if I wrote in a more traditional way, and if I wrote “publishable” fiction- this could easily be a book length story by itself. Quite possibly an epic space opera, longer than any of my other individual books.

Instead, I’m going to write it from a different sort of perspective. I’m going to try to explore the effects and implications of time travel (and love), rather than to try to write an exciting and engaging yarn of adventures through space and time. I’m also going to try to address part of the idea that people are trying to wrap their minds around when they utter something like “if time travel was possible, wouldn’t we have seen time travelers already?” I’m going to do it by showing all the parts that weren’t “just a dream” and I’m going to leave out all the parts that were.

When I first began explaining the story to my wife, this afternoon, I said that it seemed I was about to write yet another story where nothing happens; where none of the action takes place on the page, where it’s just a bunch of people talking about things that happened, and about what they’d like to do next. Seems to be a big part of my writing style, I suppose.

ME on iPad

The first version of the first iteration of Apple’s iPad will be in customers’ hands this weekend. Not in mine, unfortunately. I am quite eager to get one in my hands, and that eagerness is increasing as the iPad’s release draws nearer, but it is not a burning desire. In addition to my personal desire for the device is my professional interest in it. Among its many features and capabilities is its functionality as an eBook reader and store. As you know, I am a publisher. If I were a publisher with any capital to speak of, I’d already have a slew of devices to test my eBooks on – Sony’s eReaders, Amazon’s kindle, and Barnes & Noble’s nook, at the least. I don’t currently have any such devices, and simply hope that my eBooks look alright without ever actually seeing them on a dedicated device. (I’ve seen them on my iPhone, and on my iMac in a variety of preview softwares.) The Apple iPad is a device that many people see as “a game changer” for eBooks, and I agree (though I’m not convinced it will be via the iBookstore that eBooks are revolutionized).

Until a few days ago, it was unclear what terms Apple would be accepting publishers to offer books through their iBookstore; only a handful of major publishers had announced any deals. Then more publishers began putting out press releases about their agreements with Apple. I didn’t see anything coming out about small press and independent publishers making deals, or any official process for applying… but then I got an email from Mark Coker, founder of Smashwords, notifying me that Apple and Smashwords had reached an agreement and that qualifying Smashwords titles would be available in the iBookstore on April 3rd (ie: at launch).

In addition to the existing requirements for “Premium Distribution” from Smashwords to its partners (including Barnes & Noble, Sony, Kobo, and Amazon), in order to be distributed to Apple, each eBook needs its own ISBN (and Smashwords would gladly provide free ISBNs that list Smashwords as the publisher, or $10 ISBNs that list the author as the publisher), needs to be available in the ePub format, and needs to have a cover image at least 600 by 900 pixels. No problem on the cover images; all mine are print-ready sizes. No problem on the ePub format (well, except that Smashwords doesn’t allow some of the nicer features of the format, such as chapters / Table Of Contents), since I always convert to all available formats. I also own an hundred ISBNs, and assign them to my print books, audiobooks, and eBooks, as I create them.

One thing I haven’t been doing is assigning ISBNs to the individual short stories I’ve been selling through Smashwords and on the kindle. For book-length works, I’ve assigned an ISBN to each version I’ve made available for sale. But at the rate I bought them, back in 2007 before single-ISBNs were available in the US and buying 10 ISBNs was over $300, I paid roughly $1200 for 100 ISBNs. I’ve just looked it up; I can now buy a block of 1000 ISBNs for $1000. Sigh. My ISBNs cost $12, so it seems difficult and expensive to assign them to individual short stories. If my ISBNs had cost me $1, it might seem less terrible, but spending another $84 to put the seven short stories I’ve released individually from More Lost Memories (which I’ve been pricing at a reasonable $0.99 each)… and of which I’ve only sold 15 electronic copies (that’s total, across all 7 stories) since making them available a year ago, netting me $6.09. Let’s do some math: In order to break even on selling these stories via the iBookstore, based on the $0.99 price each and the 60% royalty rate, I’d have to sell 142 copies of these stories to iPad users. On the other hand, the market value of my ISBNs is now less, and if I pretend they’re only worth the current market price, then it would be easy to expect to earn out the $7 worth of ISBNs… sigh. I suppose I ought to have been depreciating the value of my ISBNs on my taxes, after all.

So … I’m resigned to go ahead and assign the ISBNs to the individual stories, I suppose. Hopefully it won’t wreak havoc on my ability to show a profit this year. Between the More Lost Memories stories and the short story & essay collection I hope to put out this summer, I’ll be using about $200 worth of ISBNs just for the individual short stories. If you’ve read my recent posts on sales & income, you’ll know this is … not a small expense. It isn’t something I have to pay right now, but because of the way I’ve been accounting for my ISBNs (as a pre-paid asset), it counts as an expense against this year’s income. I have some plans/ideas for covering expenses better this year, some already in motion, but this ISBN thing may make things more difficult.

Then there’s the iPad development costs. Basically just the $99, since I’d do all the work myself. That’s not including the cost of the iPad… which wouldn’t be a strictly business purchase, anyway. But I’d like to do some work … really, I’ve been meaning to develop for the iPhone, as well, but have been putting it off. Having finally reached a point of not feeling perpetually behind on already-completed projects (which has a lot to do with my decision to take a step back from the Art Walk & other habitual activities & re-evaluate my path) I think I may have time to work on some of the projects I’ve had in mind for the last year or few.  Things like narratives that tell a different story depending on how you hold them or where you are, or the ability to allow readers to interact physically with a story… in ways I won’t try to describe here.

…I’ve lost track of things here, somehow. I’ve been staring at this post, slowly adding to it, for the last six or seven hours, actually. I think I missed half my point. I can’t recall what it is, now. I’m quite tired. Actually, I started watching The IT Crowd on Netflix instant when I set down to write this, thinking it would be nice to have a little something on so I wasn’t sitting alone and in the dark and in the quiet typing… I started on the first episode of the first series and I’m now on the last episode of the last series. It has been much better than I’d originally expected from the brief description, but I’ve been laughing most all the way through it. The show has been quite distracting. I’m sure I’d have struggled & wandered a bit in this post, but not for as long as this. Sorry. Let me try again, more succinctly:

I want an iPad or two. I want to see my eBooks on the iPad. I’m excited to be able to sell my eBooks in the iBookstore. I want to develop for the iPad (&iPhone). I’m not burning with desire for the device (nor do I have the money, really, right now), so I’m planning to wait a bit before getting one. (When the iPhone came out, I didn’t run out & get one right away. I patiently waited, then ran out the day after the price drop & bought one for $200 less. Depending on which comes first, a price drop or an upgrade…) I’ll probably go into the local Apple Store next week to molest try out an iPad – part of my hesitation is in not ever having had a chance to see and touch the device; $500+ is a lot (for me) to spend on something sight unseen.

A few more First Friday thoughts, this time with numbers

So, since I have to make a decision by Friday about whether I want to show at the April 2nd Phoestival (If not paid at least a week prior to First Friday, the price per space doubles from $50 to $100), I took some time out yesterday and ran some numbers. Looked at my bookkeeping software, manually added up some numbers, just roughly. Here are a few of them:

I’ve participated (as a vendor) during the First Fridays Art Walk Roosevelt Row Street Closure (now known as Phoestival in Roosevelt Row) 21 times. Six in 2008, all 12 months in 2009, and all three so far this year. In 2008 I paid $35/month for a space. In 2009 I paid $385 for the full year (~$32/mo). For 2010 the price of a single space increased to $50 per month, with no ability to (or price break from) paying for multiple months in advance. I have had other expenses, including things like building my two portable gallery walls, putting gas in my (borrowed from dad) generator until I bought a battery-based power solution, buying & replacing lights… buying replacement parts for the couple of times my walls were broken in strong winds… paying for an account & equipment to be able to take credit cards at the event… et cetera. Since I started participating in May 2008, my total expenses (including the $745 for 1 space per month) have been about $1759. That’s about $84/month, overall.

Then there’s income. For convenience, on three occasions I had made sales online (usually via Twitter) and the art actually changed hands at the art walk, but I am not including those three transactions in the figures below, as they would certainly have occurred without my participation in the art walk. I have included sales which were a direct result of the art walk (ie: a followup email/call about something seen at the art walk, which resulted in a sale), even if they were completed elsewhere.

In the first three months I participated, May ’08 through July ’08, I earned $19. Total. So I took a couple months off. Sales were better when I returned in Oct ’08, and were generally good through about May ’09. For that 8-month period I averaged about $131 in sales per month. My highest sales month was March ’09, in which I made $297 between art walk sales and art walk followups. Then sales went into a slump.

In the last ten months, from June ’09 through March ’10, I averaged about $35 in sales per month. I only made $50 or more in 3 of those 10 months. In an equal number of them I earned $15 or less ($0 in January). Compared to the new minimum cost of $50/month, this is not sustainable.

Buoyed by the 4 or 5 good months between Oct ’08 & May ’09, my net income from the art walks is generally positive. Net, I lost less than $19 for 2008, then earned roughly $147 in 2009 & $11 so far in 2010. That’s $140 total, less than $7/month. But it’s also positive… generally. So it’s not (yet) an actual money-losing proposition to participate, which is better than I’d expected before sitting down to look up the numbers. Plus, big expenses like building the portable walls are already paid for, so (theoretically) the ongoing expenses will be closer to the $50/month now charged for the space.

So what I have to decide is why I’m doing the art walk. If it’s to make money, that’s clearly a failure. I barely break even. If it’s merely to show off my art, I suppose that’s working out okay – tens of thousands of people walk by my art every month, and will do so for as long as I participate. If the purpose is primarily to show my art, I need to decide how much I’m willing to pay for that privilege – if it’s as much or more as it would cost (in money and in time) for me to participate in a “proper” gallery, either one where wall space is rented to artists, or a co-op like eye lounge, then I need to consider those alternatives as well. If my participation has something to do with community… a community I don’t live in, don’t work in, and only physically visit twice a month (once for the art walk, once for the vendor committee meeting)… then I’m possibly more nuts and ineffective than I thought. If there’s some other reason… I don’t know.

But doing the math & writing this out helps me consider it.  I think that at one time I thought it was about trying to earn money, but have since given that up – having seen both that I don’t seem to earn money there and that my family isn’t desperate for add’l income from what I create. I do hope that the economy recovers enough that the sort of people who were opening their wallets (and their homes to my art) in the hopeful period right after Obama (Mr. Hope) was elected will do so again someday soon, but I don’t think money or sales are really the point.

I think I’m going to stop doing the art walk for a while. I’ve been thinking of running through the remainder of a correspondence art course I never finished, and I’ve been thinking of spending some time deciding whether I’d like my art and/or writing to be “about” anything, and perhaps in a few months or so I’ll have something new and interesting to show, instead of just bringing random selections from what remains of my last 13 years of work & hoping they catch someone’s eye. Maybe I’ll have a reason, an answer, a new thought… Or at the very least, have a few new books to sell.

Some thoughts on First Fridays

To sum up, before I get started: Things change. You can never go back to ‘the way things were.’

I’m a little disillusioned with First Fridays & the art walk, the “Phoestival,” et cetera myself, right now. Let me state that here, and perhaps expound on it later. I have been considering halting my participation in the event.

I received a very inflammatory email yesterday from someone I’ve never met or heard of before, but whom I now half want to murder (and half want to attempt a rational discussion with him, first). My first thought upon receipt of the email was that -damnit- I’d missed yet another Downtown Artist Task Force meeting! Yet again, because no one told me when it was until after it had happened! Then I read the long, rambling email from Kim Moody, co-founder of Alwun House, and I found more and better reasons to get angry.

Now, of note, I’d never heard of Kim Moody prior to receipt of this bizarre email. I don’t know how I got on his (long) list of “downtown participants” (most of whom have @phoenix.gov addresses). In fact, for a couple of hours today I thought Kim was a woman. No idea. Kim is, apparently, a co-founder of the Alwun House. According to several Alwun House PR pieces I found today, Alwun House says it was Phoenix’s first art gallery. It’s apparently been there for 38 years (something like 23 of them unlawfully, by their own account), and was a founding member of Artlink (the organization that started the First Fridays art walk in Phoenix, 22 years ago). I’ve been a Phoenix-area resident for 24 of my 31 years, I’ve attended ASU’s College of Fine Arts (briefly, I admit, in 2002), I’ve been creating art and visiting galleries and museums, and I’ve been attending the First Friday art walk pretty regularly since I returned to the valley (from N. Arizona) in mid-2004, and I never heard of the Alwun house until after I’d stopped attending the art walk as a visitor. I didn’t hear about them until after I was already a “street vendor” with the Roosevelt Row street closure. So I’ve never even seen the place. I never noticed it on the Artlink maps, the ~4 years I was attending First Fridays. They weren’t even a blip, to me, then.

But now they’re all over my radar.

Because they’re being ridiculous. The most obvious part of their ridiculousness was evidenced in an attachment to the unsolicited email from Kim Moody, a copy of an op-ed piece he wrote 5 years ago about how horrible it was that the government actually expected people to obey the law. The attitude of the piece was that the presence of police, fire marshals, health inspectors, zoning and tax enforcement officials at the art walk -actually doing their jobs and educating participants about what they needed to do to come into compliance with the law- was an assault, comparing it to the then-recent bombing of Baghdad and to the less-recent massacre of Irish civil-rights protestors. I cannot accept such attitudes any more than I can accept the ridiculous statements of those who protest traffic law enforcement.

I try to do things honestly and lawfully, myself. Not just by obeying traffic laws as well as I am able, but others as well. So, for example, despite the fact that I was creating arts and crafts and wanted to display and sell them during the art walks, from 2004 to early 2008 I refrained. I was (and still am) nowhere near being able to afford to rent a gallery myself, or to rent/buy a home in the area for that matter. But setting up in empty lots and on sidewalks is unlawful, and I’m still not convinced even attempting to get my work into galleries is a good idea, so there was no option for me at that time. Then, as soon as there was a lawful option (the Roosevelt Row street closure), I was there. I already had my Transaction Privilege Tax Licenses from both the city of Phoenix and the state of Arizona, and before I showed up in April ’08 to show my art at the Phoenix First Fridays Art Walk for the first time I seemed to have read more state statutes and local ordinances about what was going on (and what was prohibited/allowed) than anyone else there (including city employees, that night).

The event has changed a great deal since that night, but the reason for the street closure is related to my own participation in it – what had been going on before, for years, was unlawful and increasingly unsafe. People were setting up on sidewalks, empty lots, and alleyways to show and to sell, and the crowds on Roosevelt spilled out into the road every month – mostly around these unofficial “vendors” and mostly at the intersections at 3rd Street. The police “cracked down,” as it were, on these unlawful participants -after multiple warnings- and Roosevelt Row stepped in to try to keep a vital and vibrant part of what First Fridays had become from being destroyed (and from potentially taking the rest of the event with it). They did what was required to allow the unofficial “vendors” who had been participating in Phoenix’s First Fridays event for years to do so lawfully. The local artists and craftspeople and the t-shirt vendors and the sunglass resellers and the sno-cone guys who had all been participating illegally were now given the opportunity to keep doing what they’d been doing for years, except now in compliance with the law. I thought it was (and is) a wonderful compromise between community, culture, and law enforcement.

I am a creator. I create art; I paint, I sculpt, I write… And I make most of what I create available for sale to people who like it. The only storefront I can afford is my websites and, once a month for a few hours, a 10’x10′ space at the art walk. I’m not motivated by money, by sales, by fame, any of that. I am a creator – I will always be a creator – I will always create new works. I would like to share them with the people who like them, and with the people who love them. If doing so can help cover the cost of their creation, all the better. But money isn’t the thing. Creativity is. If money was the thing, or fame, I’m sure I’d be in several galleries by now and struggling to keep up with demand. I care about art. About creation. About freedom. I love that I, a totally independent creator, am able to participate in an event like the Phoenix First Fridays Art Walk without having to deal with commercialism (ie: renting “gallery” space from someplace like Red Dog) or politics/snobbery/art-scene (ie: getting my art accepted by a “reputable” or “collective” / “community” gallery).

On the other hand, the current incarnation of First Fridays in Phoenix has very little to do with fine art. Or so it seems. I suspect that the number of people who currently attend the event to see and/or purchase art and/or visit the galleries is higher than it has been in years. It only seems different because of the 20,000 to 25,000 other people who are also attending the event… proportionally, it seems like almost no one attending the “art walk” is there for the art. A lot of them are coming just because it’s fun. People come out to people-watch, and people come out to be seen. People come out to eat and drink and be merry. People come out to see what the local creators are creating. People come out for lots of different reasons; there are more reasons to come out on a First Friday than ever before, and it’s changed the atmosphere of the event.

Another factor is something that is affecting people regardless of their field; the economy is in a severe recession (or worse, we’ll see) and consumer spending is down across the board. Because of the problems in the larger economy, even though it shows signs of improvement, people still aren’t spending money like they used to. This includes art consumption. So, more people are attending the art walk who aren’t looking for art at all, and everyone in attendance is less likely to spend money, and it’s no wonder galleries aren’t doing so well these days. Aren’t doing as well as they used to, during First Fridays.

I’m not doing very well there, myself. Even at the start of the street closures, when I began selling my art at the art walk, I’d already reduced the prices on all my art. Last year I cut prices by another 40%, to try to increase sales… to try to make sales, at all. Sales didn’t go up. Aside from a couple of impulse purchases (and mini-paintings), most my sales are to people who have bought my art before, to people who aren’t swayed by price as much as by their love for a particular piece. I raised my prices back to my old “normal” range (circa 2003) at the end of last year and … sales are flat. Price inflexibility? The whole thing is bizarre. I began doing mini-paintings (8×10″ & smaller) specifically for the art walk, so I would have pieces I could price $10-$20 (pocket money) without resorting to the vulgarity of selling prints. Their sales are brisk compared to my larger pieces, and I still don’t cover the cost of showing there, most months… which means that no matter the cause (a shift in audience, the bad economy, I’m a crappy artist, whatever), it doesn’t make much sense to continue participating… financially.

But I’m not motivated by money, so why am I showing? Why am I participating? This is something I’ve begun asking myself lately, and I’m not sure I know the answer. I like the event. I liked what it was, years ago. I liked what it grew to be. I liked it enough to participate -as much as I was able to, within the law and within my budget- for the last two years. I like that Phoenix has a monthly cultural event that consistently draws tens of thousands of citizens of all walks to gather together downtown – apart from sports. I like that close to a hundred local creators who wouldn’t otherwise be able to show or sell their creations locally are given this opportunity to share their work with Phoenix, and I appreciate that  another forty or fifty local businesses, non-profits, and food vendors also find value in participating in the event every month – helping make it all financially possible. If I weren’t showing, I’d still be attending. But I’m showing. Why am I showing? Is it worth $50/month to me to just have my work visible to local crowds? Am I just paying a fee to be seen? Am I doing it because of some twisted belief in commercial participation, that one needs to have one’s life’s work translated into currency for validity? If so, I’ll almost certainly stop. Am I doing it because it’s important for me to do my part to support this event, this community, and to help maintain its grounding in the arts?

I think part of that is why I’ve been attending the Roosevelt Row Vendor Committee meetings every month I could since they began, and have tried to do my part to help in other ways, showing up when help was needed. I think that the idea of wanting to see this continue to succeed is why I agreed to take on a job I loathe to do, when others were unable to do it after literally a year. Not because I want to do it, not because I’m seeking reward or recognition, but because it seems as though if I don’t do it, it won’t be done.

I think this is part of why I’m writing this post at all; I support the existence of the event, and want to see it succeed -not just for street vendors, or for the public who comes out every month, but also for the galleries and the artists- and there are people attacking it. Every time I see their inflammatory statements, I feel called to defend it with reality. To explain what they aren’t seeing. To try to bring light to what they seem only to wish to destroy. Is it worth it? Is it worth my time and effort to go through point by point and refute Kim Moody’s email? To provide facts and logic to replace his speculations, accusations, and outright lies? I doubt it. It would be like Jon Stewart’s daily attempts to refute Glenn Beck (et al) with facts, logic, and common sense; Beck won’t change his tune, and the people who listen to him will only continue to believe & repeat the propaganda. It reminds me of an episode of South Park.

Personally, I may just need a break. I may just need to form a plan. Take some time off from showing and take a look as an interested viewer, instead. Go see what’s going on over on Grand for the first time in years. Maybe make it over to the Alwun House (and try to stay my hand from burning the place down to shut up its owners). Maybe see if I can’t come up with a reason to be participating in the art walk. Right now it’s merely … what I do.