Ordinary Beauty

Somehow I became convinced this would be a good idea, taking up residence in the old Rainier Brewery–you know, the one next to Interstate 5 with the big red R on top, only now the R is a T, a T for Tully’s.

Anyway. Way back like in September I answered an ad that was on craigslist. The ad was offering up membership in a co-op of artists which plans to occupy Artist Studio Dwelling space that has been under development in three of the many buildings which make up the Rainier Brewery complex. Ariel Development is the developer, Sietch 22, LLC is the co-op in question.

What a crazy ride. Turns out that the project was not quite as far along as the developers claimed, AND, the developers were no longer exactly excited about having Sietch 22 as tenants. See, the co-op’s rent was locked in quite awhile ago, at a low rate, that is now significantly below market rate for similar space (in case you haven’t noticed, real estate prices in Seattle have risen insanely over the last few years). So, suffice to say that some of the negotiations in the past few months have been a bit contentious.

Progress seems real though. There is a new COO on site and he’s kicking ass. We’re just hoping that it’s not Sietch 22’s ass that gets the boot.

There is a rumor that the established art community in Seattle also isn’t exactly thrilled about the project, since they did not instigate it. What do I know? I’ve never been one to adhere to the established. Oh well.

I do hope to invite you to my housewarming party, AKA my birthday party, this coming September, in my new space in the old Rainier Brewery. Keep your fingers crossed.

I am now officially the owner of 31.36 acres of land in the “red” part of Washington state.

Sweet.

While I am disappointed in the quality of community in that area, the beauty of my property overcomes my abhorence of the prevailing attitudes in the neighborhood.

Funny, I don’t intend to ever really occupy the space, but I’ve longed to own it for years. On Tuesday, we recorded the Deed which transferred the land from my father’s estate into my name. And now, I look forward to paying taxes on a splendid piece of real estate, and I daydream about developing it such that it can be an artist’s retreat. You know, a wee cabin and a deep well of cold water.

I’ve painted in those fields, have written pages about their creatures and the philosophies that come of living “in nature”. Those months I spent immersed in my different art forms were rich and I cherish them. Artist retreat, yes.

Here and there about are the remains of an old homestead, and there are rumours that moonshine was distilled there. Couple that with the current scat–the bear, cougar, owl, and deer droppings–and the spot has a hearty, romantic quality.Shall I drop you a line when it’s time for the road-building work party?

Buzzy times in Seattle. Less than three weeks left to get your attire together and make that all-important first impression on the kinksters and scenesters who will gather at the Seattle Erotic Arts Festival, (SEAF) which opens to the public on Friday, March 24th.

The Friday night opening really is a swell party. Forget about being able to view the official art because the crowds will be too thick. Instead, succumb to the crowd, the costumes, the luscious surreal-ness of the Conworks space occupied by hundreds of genuinely delicious cavorting human forms. Revel in the smattering of over-the-top kinksters of questionable authenticity, for they serve as a foil to the other beauty.

However, you may be happy that the official art of the festival elludes your eyes. At least if you really were expecting “erotic” art. Sure, “erotic” is a realm like “pornographic”–we know it when we see it … but isn’t there something a little out of whack when each year, out of hundreds of pieces, I find one, two, maybe three which exude Erotic, and an abundance which just scream EgoKinkDebase.

I might think I need my head (and libido?) examined for this opinion, yet voices all about me opine in the same vein.

Will I be at SEAF this year? Of course. But this time I am bringing, and guerilla installing, my own art.

Oh. Did I say that outloud?

Sometimes I think that the attitudes of the 60s are having an effect now, the flourishing of, would it be, a gift economy? You know, the children of the Flower Children are now adults, going into business, starting to have a hand in the ways things are done/run.

I’m traveling in circles which just give things away.

This is wrong, right? Can’t go on. Not sustainable, like, how can anyone make a living this way?

Abundance makes command relationships difficult to sustain and exchange relationships an almost pointless game. In gift cultures, social status is determined not by what you control but by what you give away. –Eric Steven Raymond

There is something here that is working. Seattle seems to be almost writhing with gifts being made, given, shared, used.

I am sitting here tonight with 14 other Bizniks, being given hundreds of dollars in training. Just because Dan and Daniel (among others) believe in this value.

Biznik, a business networking group that doesn’t suck. I am glad this is going on; I’m fortunate to be here when it is happening.

So, Michelle tells me, “I think I saw you in the new ‘Seattle Metropolitan’, that Brides of March thing.”
Weird. But I have worn the white wedding gown a couple of times for the traipse through Seattle streets to blissfully wed some phallic object or another in our landscape, so, it was entirely possible that my vestal-vixen-ish self was on the pages of this new Seattle mag.

Indeed, c’est moi.

Now I have to poke around and see what the scoop is for this year’s affair.

By the way, although I did wed the Space Needle and the Hammering Man (and some man named Tim), I am currently un-wed.

—————–

So, my friend Ivan Cockrum who is pretty much THE instigator of the Seattle chapter of Brides of March, passed along to me this review in “The Stranger” of the new rag, “Seattle Metropolitan”. I have to concur with Mr. Constant’s assessment, although Met, as Constant dubs it, does somehow seem the perfect voice for all those faux Cool kids who get smashed in Fremont these days.

Today I read about applying the concept of beta-testing to the things we are trying to accomplish in life, the goals we have.

I like the idea, the notion of designing an approach to something, launching it, identifying and working out the bugs.

Conveniently, of course, this notion comes to light as I begin to tinker with this blog stuff. Argh. Already I’ve broken my blog once, and twice deleted EVERYthing to start over because it wouldn’t start over without deleting EVERYthing.

Welcome to my beta.