It’s fair time.  There is nothing else to do except hope to feed the masses under sunny skies or stay dry or commiserate with my fellow seasonal carnie-vores.  With it being the last fair (at least in this guise – who knows for certain what the future will bring) for myself, I observe and question.

If I do too much observing and questioning of those around me, it can feed a fire I don’t want at this time to manage.  So I am doing my best to go inward, taking the bits that bug to turn them into pieces that assist my living.  It isn’t easy much of the time; mis-perceived hurts and old, old dynamics are at play.  Yet, going inward is the best move.

I’ve done a bit of waffling, going over my decision to leave this chapter of my life behind.  That’s ok though, because with each sway between ‘yes’ and ‘I don’t know’, I keep coming back to ‘yes’ with a clarity that feels right to trust.  Its always a risk to go into the unknown, and it would be foolish to not weigh the risk and seek good passage through changing currents.

So much unspoken in those around me, and I die a bit to get it out of them.  Their curious ideas and remarks that stay hidden, the flashes of anger, uncertainty and relief… confusion.  Eckhart Tolle talks about the transformative power of becoming conscious, and explains it very thoroughly.  He also preaches the futility of bringing anyone else to light (if it were a rap song it would go like: “It’s nun’yo biz-ness).  It won’t work to force someone to see something he or she isn’t ready to face.  Doesn’t that just make so much sense?  Sure does.  Accepting that fact is another dance move entirely.

So I’m doing this and I am actually coming back to love.  Loving these people despite the slights.  As one teacher put it… “I love you in spite of yourself.”  And it feels pretty good.

I want to be an artist everyday.  This desire has been foundation, it’s sprung me from trap after trap, like a heart song.  A heart song being the tune that’s best for you, the one you hear and love and many times it takes a minute for others to get.  I keep hearing my song; I’ve gone round the way to heed it and burst through many a dungeon door to find an accepting night sky waiting, waiting to accept the next leap into unknown territory.

But not wholly unknown, because the song goes before me and I KNOW THAT SONG.

The song gets stronger the more I heed it.  I get happier, coincidence happens, little hints along the way play out.  I’m healthier for it, removing toxins to the tune of The Sex Bob-Ombs or “Crystallized.”

There might be some mourning to do.  Just a bit, for long held structures of life now condemned, now falling empty.  ‘Once was’ can be a nice way to spend an hour or two walking around the fairgrounds.

But you can’t stay on the ferris wheel forever (or CAN you???), so many tickets and the ride is done.

Onwards…

So keep on dancing.  I’ll do my best to keep you updated.

As far as the Renegade Art Show.  We have a space all lined up in South Anchorage.  I am excited and dreaming at night of all the possibilities.

Thanks for the increased interest.  We’ll talk soon.

The distribution part of the business was sold off years ago – what has remained is the family booth at the Alaska State Fair.  31 years of tzatziki sauce, onions, tomatoes, long days, long nights, laughter, dancing and tears.  It has been one of the most consistent aspects of my life.

As a kid, the Fair is where I learned how to pepper my language with all kinds of cuss words, as well as running around with my brother to explore the gazebo (now torn down), watch the daily puppet show over and over again, be bored, and learn how to work.  The booth was busy from day one, and has been a constant source of amusement to hear the different ways ‘Gyros’ is pronounced.

For the record it goes like this: YEE-dos.  I’ve heard ji-row, jee-row, ghee-ros, heer-ows… sandwich.  After awhile I gave up trying to correct or repeat myself and just call it as it is usually pronounced: gyro (jai-row).  But that doesn’t work because then I run into someone who knows how to pronounce it and I get corrected.  Cest’ la vie.

A little over ten years ago it came time to take over the business from the parentals, and it was then I really came to love my yearly pause in wherever I was to come up and work the fair.  Three weeks of hard work and introspection over a hot grill and a LOT of sour cream.

Almost like a metronome for life, I came to see it as a time not only to work, but to see where I had changed and grown.  It was a yearly rhythm of seeing friends and Alaska, my beloved Alaska.  The mountains out back of the booth, I spent many a spare minute taking them in and how the varying degrees of sunlight changes their texture throughout the day.  I’ve yet to climb Pike’s Peak; its been a decade’s long intention.

The booth was where I first put into practice the concepts of enlightened self-interest, a business philosophy I was introduced to at some point in high school.  I saw it work to a great effect.  The fair was also one of the places where I felt safe enough to let down my ‘gay guard.’  I was surrounded by people who did not mock me for my gay inflections or sensibilities – it was pleasantly a non-issue.  I was a good boss and ran a successful business.  Boons on all levels.

But things change.  Of course they do.  And my metronome wasn’t mine alone.  Its a business, and as more family came to take a growing interest, the rhythm changed, and it was no longer the place it once was for me.  I was sad, angry, etc. for quite awhile about this.

The seasons change, and if I am to hold true to my original estimation, then… how have I changed this year?  After a decade’s worth of attempting to reach a compromise between conflicting business philosophies, I’m letting go.  The metronome is sounding its last for me.

It takes effort for large personalities in a small space over long days to serve one another.  I’ve come away many a year with quite the opposite of the self-satisfaction I once knew.  No longer a safe place, the ‘gay guard’ exhausting itself by too long an active duty, under fluorescent lights that hurt my eyes (not an undocumented phenomenon), it comes to a point where total acceptance of the situation is necessary.  And with surrender to what is, a new type of decision making starts to rise.

I’m one to change and refine things. I’m also one for deep talks and honest bits.  I’m an artist, and sometimes, as many artists know, its a different way of living.  I had an amazing interview with Ms. Julie Decker today, and I am so grateful to hear that mine isn’t the only case of (at times) misunderstood living.  I don’t feel bad about this anymore.

It’s challenging at times, yeah, but so what! I accept it.  And it changes and it isn’t what I think it is going to be.  Sometimes the challenges are interior and get WAY too manifested in the exterior.  Or the other way around.  And then boons slip in, in such unexpected fashions.  I’m left humbled and grateful for the lessons along the way, and strong enough to wish those who decide to stay all the best.  No hard feelings.

The metronome will tok for someone else, you know.

It was fun, tho’.

What’s next is F Magazine.  A beautiful online and print space created by two outgoing ladies who believe in Alaska and all her many colours.  Many of those colours often do not have an opportunity for public exposure, existing in tiny pockets of sub-culture and ‘almost there, almost there… could’ve been.‘  This observation was one of the driving forces behind Bag Lunch, and F realizes that same opportunity lying in wait: there is so much here, in Alaska, just ready for the chance to really breathe and come into a sustained sort of living.  More than a few seasons, more than a passing fancy.

F was created by Teeka A. Ballas and Gretchen Weiss.  At first a purely online, down-loadable thing, in the last few months it has moved into print, and is available at a number of spots around Anchorage, Fairbanks, Juneau, the Kenai Peninsula, and ETC.  It goes for $4; right in line with other magazines out there these days.

Read about opera in Fairbanks, poetry-slams in Anchorage, or pirate radio out near Talkeetna.  Did you know about all this?  Did you know that there was so much going on?  I bet you didn’t.  That’s the point, there’s the luv.  There’s lots to do, and room to join in, too.  Our community here in Alaska is a special one, made so by location, population, seasons, and that mysterious AK dichotomy of ‘let’s get out there and try something new‘ mixed with ‘give me space, I need space.’

I hope you pick up a copy.  Its a lovely excuse to stop into Sugar Spoon for a bite of something delish…  That’s where I got my latest issue, and in front of their desert counter I made a secret pledge to return for bites of cake and cookies, new issue out or no.  Those brownie’s looked goooood.

As an artist intent on making it, one with experience in this fair clime and its sometimes sticky endeavours, any support you give us artists matters.  You share your power when you check out our websites, pick up our magazines, listen to our tunes.  It makes a difference that only the future can estimate.

And it looks cool.

How it usually goes, is when a certain piece is finished, it strikes me with glee, and I am enamored.  I feel amazed, ‘wow’ and ‘how did that happen?’  Those are followed by traces of humility and gratitude in being a part of something much bigger than I and the opportunity to express it in my work.

Call it afterglow, yes? Following a couple days of that, all I want to do is go there again.  Live in that process and have something to show.

The latest graphic for Samantha SoWrong, aspirant for Empresss XXXVIII of all Alaska (and a helluva muse), conjures up these sensations.  I found some sweet Photoshop brushes on the internet, after finding the following source of inspiration:

To be clear: No, that isn’t my piece above.  I found it on a google search for ‘paint splatters.’  It was popular on myspace; couldn’t find the artist, tho.

It gave me ideas, and I figured I would go for it.

The trick is, half the time what you do isn’t going to look like what you have in your head.  At least with art.  If you are building a fence, I imagine there isn’t as much room for creative license without losing efficiency.

But with art, man, just let it go.  It might come out as planned, however, most of the time: no. I’ve come to LOVE that, its part of that amazement at the end of the show – ‘how did that happen, exactly?’  Taking cues and running off with them for a torrid artistic affair.  And affairs can often produce offspring.

Hence:

And then its back to work.  For those of you Photoshop lovers, there are some great brushes to be had, free, here and here.  Cheers!

I had Dad on my side, and made it fine.  The day entailed new projects coming into some sort of life, lessons learned, chips, home-made salsa and home design.

That’s my first woodcut.  Ever.  I started the piece in Colombia, after a long distance discussion with Ms. Blake, Ms. Katie Blake: a helluva artist and human being.  The day’s background contained steady programming from HGTV, designers smiling in well-ironed garments and making kitchens and bathrooms nice and ready to sell.

I’m not sure yet if I like doing woodcuts.  The jury is out, the only thing to do is try another. Each piece and type of wood has it’s own character.  Even though I may have externally known this before just by sight alone, now the marks I made through tools new to my hands have let me know that yes, indeed, each piece of wood has it’s own character.  Add to that the unique cuts made by any cutter, and all that character blending into one piece can be a bit like being a boat at sea with no one aboard.  Somewhat disconcerting at first, but, like the boat, go with the flow.

I watched Alice in Wonderland this morning.  Can you tell?

So the Mad Mermaid found herself some ink, and a few lessons along the way.  Screen Printing on paper was another first this day; until now it had only been cloth, which entails a slightly different method in laying down ink.  As in, don’t press so hard. -wink-

Katie is brilliant.  She could definitely have her own show on a network like HGTV.  She holds a Masters Degree in Library Science and a unique sensibility.  I get excited when I see her artwork, the lines and form.  Twangs of jealousy crowded out by inspiration.  She is the type of artist and person I want in my life, to learn from and work with (same difference, really).

A friend, John Ollom, told me awhile back that it was time to surround myself with other artists.  After the long road of searching and deploying venture to venture – in order to find myself established on this road called Art – John was right.  I used to do it on my own, drawing in corners (as a kid quite literally) and behind closed doors.  The doors are open and the room knows people.  It’s getting full and I am not alone.

I’m inspired, so I got work on some graphics.  Sam is truly one of a kind, and a great muse.

She is a candidate for Empress of the Imperial Court of Alaska, and recently returned from her campaign tour of the Alaskan Bush.  It’s not just another beauty and popularity contest, oh no, its a position of leadership in a community that in recent years has seen its fair share of knocks and continues to rise to the challenge.  It is also a celebration of the history of camp and just plain old having fun.

The Imperial Court is a non-profit organization that hands out scholarships and charity of up to $90,000 a year. That is quite a bundle, and as a long time member of Alaska’s gay community, I never knew this until Ms. Samantha let drop her vast knowledge of what the Imperial Court does, did, and her understanding of how she can help her community.  I truly believe she can, I truly believe she is the best candidate.

So much so that I urge you to vote on her behalf on August 21st, at the GLCCA – 336 East 5th Avenue.  Any Alaskan resident can vote, just bring your AK ID.

Why vote?  Why take the time? It helps, truly, our whole community of Alaska.  By supporting positive models of gay life and capabilities, it strengthens everybody.  Because ultimately we are all a part of the same community, the same world.  That world gets stronger and more lovely with each member finding support, peace and joy.  Thanks!

What can I say?

Except how GREAT it is to work with amazing, supportive people.  Life is Beautiful.