I have a lot of reasons I want to create a space that is both indoors and outdoors, spread out in small buildings designed for different purposes. Mostly that it’s cheaper and more efficient to say, “This sunny spot will grow vegetables well, and if I put a kitchen next to it, that is convenient, and means we can harvest as we go and my mother doesn’t have to walk long distances to get food. Whereas, this shady enclosed place will keep the the media (DVDs, records, etc) from melting, so that is a space for a library or gallery storage.

And with well kept walkways and a central clearing, the entire yard can be, with clever planning, a flexible outdoor play space. A theatre. Each building can set a scene, without having to disturb the whole.
My goal is to create a space that can naturally support an artist through their old age–to spend my life, through trial and error, building my house towards that. Because I have no plans to sell, ever, but only to pass it on to another artist, I can make the space fit the purpose over time. Street performance has given me a pretty good education in how to make natural spaces and incidental spaces useful for the purposes of performance. And I’m excited to put it to work: from street performance to home performance. It’s environmentally friendly, it’s very inexpensive comparatively, it can breathe and change and yet is fixed and permanent. It’s easier to zone. It allows artists to be independent. In my head. I mean…I guess I’ll find out.

The personal and the public.
I’ve often thought to myself, “You want to produce theatre so bad, why not just invite people to your living room?” Well ..because then they’d be in my living room. We live in a time where it is hard to tell the difference between personal and private. And we live in a time where it behooves you to be hard to find, but also easy to find.

This is tough for an independent artist trying to get funding. My expenses and the arts expenses are the same. But a scattered household that transforms itself for invited ticket holders and still allows me private places is one way to go. If I were an arts organization, I could say, “help us keep the lights on!” And that would seem pretty basic. As an individual, it is begging. It’s why I agonize over whether to sell you my wares and be mysterious about what I want from you (the tried and true way to sell), or to reveal my every deficit to be transparent and get what I specifically need, funded (the non-profit way. Which grates). I always err on the side of full transparency. Because you are my investors–it seems only right to tell you what I need…even if it is also vexing to have it explained to me, “you don’t need that” (hit me right in the poor place, why dontcha?) . Which is what you risk when you ask for help with funding.
And when your ideas are new, sometimes the more you explain it, the more far fetched it seems.
With all that in mind, I’d like to delve a little bit more into my wishlist and tell you why the things that are on it are on it.
But first, a quick overview of what we are funding.
- Artist housing.
- A theatre for SmutMag with 0 carbon footprint in a town that lacks any theaters but is filled with artists.
- An experiment in FUNCTIONAL, independent living with seniors in mind (I plan to get old there, and will be informed by my mother who worked with dementia patients for years, and knowing I am trying to pass it on to someone else who will get old there, and knowing that artists generally die alone).
Here is the wishlist . Please note, I don’t need these items specifically –if you have access to similar items elsewhere, I am not that choosey!

1.Pergolas, a cat house, sheds, gazebos? Yeah, it looks a little extravagant. Except these things ARE the house –not in addition to the house. I also prioritized them because they are cheaper than the ultimate house, but I can turn any of them into a shelter with boards –and I am mainly concerned about me and my cats being safe from mountain lions and bears. And with polycarbonate panels, pergolas and gazebos can be turned into greenhouses–or make good set dressing for theatre. These are flex spaces. But a flex space is what I’m building. These may not be the final living quarters I want–but they may enable me to get there, and relieve pressure on the main space to be everything to every need.
2. Beekeeping equipment? This is absolutely the least necessary up front….but bear in mind, the ability to grow my own food is part of what will make this all work. It’s more to hint towards the future, but I put it out there now because I will be ecstatic to get started, and what if someone bought a bunch of beekeeping equipment a year ago and never used it? I want them to know I can make use of it.
3. Garden fencing: The animals will come for my veggies, I know it.
4. Tarps, tools, zip ties, duct tape, a ladder: nothing gets built without this stuff.
5. Bike motor? And not electric? I know. But I thought long and hard about this. The land is about an hour from the nearest town. It is in the mountains, butting up against the ocean. I have lived in every imaginable space without a car–but this place requires a motor. And most ebikes do not have the juice to even get as far as the next town. I’m worried about running out of juice halfway up a mountain. But a gas powered motorbike gets 60-80 mpg. And I am not sure how much I can depend on the sun in my little forest. And it’s cheaper up front and I need wheels sooner than later. So, I am leaning gas. That said, if you have an ebike motor and battery you are dying to get rid of, it’s a gift horse I would take, and ride into the sunset…Because the horse will die if he doesn’t see the sun–and I will get him there!
6. A chiminea AND a grill? But no stove? Look, I would like a stove and an oven. And if you have a wood burning stove for me, I will take it! But I am not sure yet what is the best kind of stove for my purposes. But I am certain I need to cook something in the meantime, and that mountain lions are scared off by fire. I may not want to cook on the grill every single day. But I should probably light a fire around sunset. And like the mountain lions, I am also scared of fire and want it contained. So, chiminea. And a fire extinguisher…that needs to go on the list.
7. Big Berkey. I will be putting together a rain batch collection system like my life depends on it, because it does. I have to get building plans approved before I can get public utilities. I plan to start right away, and I have every reason to think it will not be as long a process as it might be…but I don’t know how long it will take, and quite frankly, I want the ability to not use the grid at all. We get a lot of rain here, in a very pristine natural environment. With a good water filtration system, it should be good. Until I have something like this, I will be up to my ears in bottled water.
8. Bear proof trash can and bear spray. Because bears.
9. Ecoflow. Power! Feel the power!!! This is like…you don’t have to worry about power as a single person. And at bills that are like $500 a month through PG&E (yes, really. And yes, I’ve checked around, it’s not just me), even though it is expensive, off grid power is liberation. I will likely in the meantime be building a solar system piecemeal.
10. Fencing. Possibly the most important thing. With enough time and pressure, I can sculpt a mud hut out of dirt. But if the neighbors watch me slopping around in the mud all day and sleeping in a room made by wrapping duct tape around a cluster of trees (oh, hey, there’s an idea…), and crapping in a bucket, I will likely be deemed “not good for the community.” Jeez.
11. Polycarbonate panels. Because you can make a greenhouse out of them. And if it’s these panels and not just plastic wrap, I can sleep in there if I have to and it will likely stay warm at night.

One day, when I was living in a should-have-been-condemned-and-later-was duplex in Charleston, my mother was rushing home to pee, but had forgotten her key, and I was in class at the local college. She knocked on the door of our neighbor and explained. She asked if she could use his bathroom. This was Charleston–they knew each other. Everyone says hello and chats or else.
He told her to pee in the yard–that’s what his wife would do. Cuz she “ain’t no fucking prima Donna.” She held it till I got home. She was, actually, crying when I got home. Because wow.
Well, call me a diva, but I require a yard with a fence to pee in.
My list is a list for being civilized in an uncivilized world.
That’s why the fancy mailbox. Because God damnit, this is my home and I will treat it with the respect I need it to show me. Let’s start with dignified introductions.
I share the list not to make a demand or to box anyone in it to say, “I deserve these things!” I share it so you know what it takes to make a sustainable life. And to accept the help I need from where it’s available. Because I do need the help, even if I understand not everyone can give it. I’ll remove things and add things as needed until this construction project is done. I will also, of course, use your Bones investments to purchase things as well. And I will make a little plaque to honor your contribution! This ladder brought to you by Harold!
I’m in this till the end, whatever it takes. I’ve given myself no choice and I never really had one to begin with. But I will create something real and solid and sustainable. The question is only how quickly, and how safely. But please: do not mistake my willingness to go the hard route to get the thing done with a preference for it. Each of these projects to complete the whole are months of work if I learn and do as I go. I will learn a lot! That’s always good!…?
But I am perfectly willing to forgo a few (excruciating) learning opportunities to be able to get to get to the ACTUAL work I’m building all this to support, faster. I am happy to unload some of my plate…onto discerning, loyal viewers like you 🙂

More than half of Americans cannot meet basic needs right now. I know it’s a terrible time to ask. And I genuinely do not put $900 machinery on a list (ecoflow) thinking that’s something everyone is equipped to give. There are also little things on the list, like duct tape. And Bones are always welcome. Or you can just share my work with people.
This list is about reducing dependence. It’s not, “I need this much to get through ___.” It’s infrastructure for a sustainable future that can be scaled and replicated. For me and my family and my work in the arts, and the artists housed there after me. As I experiment and share what works and doesn’t, it becomes a case study for what’s possible, and makes us better equipped for what comes next for all of us.
All for one. One for all.
Because there is no infrastructure anymore. Not that cares for the people. Certainly not that cares for artists, weirdos, the old, the marginalized, the ostracized. Each plot of land we obtain and build to be sustainable and self generating for the people and animals it houses is a win for all of us.
We will stop being a violent nation of shit bags when we stop being afraid of losing our homes. When we stop being afraid that we don’t have what it takes to build for ourselves. When we stop stopping people from building for themselves.
I am certain I don’t have what it takes. Yet. But there is no more time. And I know every day a mountain lion doesn’t eat me is a day I can wake up and try again until I get it right. And I know in an ever jostling world, the faster we stabilize people, the more people we will have available to help others.
Anywho. That is my list as of this moment. If you want to get me items from it elsewhere, message me here and we’ll work it out. If you want to get me things not on the list, thank you–I truly cannot think of everything. Your eyes on the matter are important.

And thank you for your help–it is everything. And I just cannot wait, I cannot wait, I cannot wait to have the space and time to create something focused and careful for you. To work. My banjo practice is completely sporadic. The hunting down of venues to create shows at a loss, is just such a bfd, it’s demoralizing af. The arts suffer from a lack of dedication, and there can be no dedication in a rent trap.
I have a place to live and work. It is honestly difficult to share a list of more things I need, because that is everything. It is everything.
But it’s not everything. I need walls. And a toilet. And power. And water. And sweet, sweet nectar from the bee gods.
See Process: A Digital Cabaret
Listen to this song, which my upcoming Halloween Cabaret is being built around.
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