LAB by Benedetto Portone

LAB Live. Learn. Repeat as necessar y.

T E S T I N G T H E WAT E R

LAB 0.5

Live. Learn. Repeat as necessar y. LAB 0.5 is Joseph Robertson Mary Nally with help from Nate Beaty Julie Jackson published by Joseph Robertson Nathan Webb contributors Nate Beaty Kelly Coller Brenda Edin Ray Fenwick Laura Kicey Kevin Moffett PDX SuperCrafty Mark Pesce Aaron Renier Derek Powazek cover photos front: Laura Kicey back: Joseph Robertson endpage patterns Ray Fenwick design Joseph Robertson feedback feedback@lab-zine.com online lab-zine.com

Fact: At least 58% of magazine readers skip introductions. Read the following and find out why.* What the heck is LAB? It’s a space for learning; a space for experimentation. All kinds of things come out of actual labs— some good, some not so good. Frankenstein’s monster, penicillin. Pepto Bismol, photocopiers. Microchips, synthetic fat that makes you poop your pants. Solar panels, Pop Rocks. You get the idea. It’s a mixed bag. But LAB isn’t so much about technology, in the way of beakers and flasks and poofs of smoke and mad scientists with crazy big hair— it’s more about the spirit of creative experimentation (crazy big hair optional). Which brings us to this issue’s focus: Freelance artists. Craftsters. Photographers. Bloggers. DIY startups. Creative entrepreneurs. Media makers. Just a few of the terms tossed around to describe a new breed who are actively creating what they want to see in the media and in the market, not content to sit still and passively consume the same old slop. If metaphors are your thing, you could call it the The Long Tail that’s wagging the dog. By any name, these are people who are passionate about what they do, whether or not it pays the bills, whether or not it wins a Nobel Peace Prize. Some are just folks who have some spare genius to burn on weekends; others would maybe like to quit the Day Job and do the voodoo they do best, whether that voodoo is videoblogging, cross-stitching, or orchestrating improv flash mobs. Or maybe it’s a dream of opening up a bookstore or gallery or biodiesel-fueled taco truck / mobile info-shop / wireless hot spot that donates half of its profits to the local library (tell us if you find one of these!). Or it could be a ten-year itch to put out a magazine. *ahem* For this first issue, we’ve picked the brains of photographers, illustrators, writers, printers, bookbinders, and makers of all kinds of media, asking nosy questions like: where’d you get the startup funds? what resources did you use? what are the best & worst parts of being your own boss? Along the way, we discuss: DIY ethics, participatory publishing, user-generated content, authentic media, idiot bosses, nightmare clients, the Puppies, Sunsets, and Rainbows Syndrome, and what jazzes the funk out of funky jazzy stuff. We learned new things. And this was good. Because LAB is an experiment, a science project undertaken by Joseph Robertson (& Co) of Portland, OR. This October, Joseph quit his day job to spend more time learning about design & photography. He doesn’t normally speak of himself in the third-person, so you’ll find a self-interview in the back of this issue (pg 121) that will answer all those burning questions that you’ve got. We’ve still got a lot to learn. Buckminster Fuller said it best: You can never learn less. You can only learn more.

/Joseph Robertson * Okay, so we made that little factoid up. But it rings with a certain truthiness, doesn’t it?

CONTENTS

2003, or Cal Lab Magazine, a journal of metrology (the science of measurement)

published in Vancouver, WA, or LAB (Laboratory Accreditation Bureau), which pro-

vides accreditation to laboratories across North America (based in Fort Wayne, IN),

freelance artists photography illustration self-portrait

indie biz DIY craft startup cultural entrepreneurs

web content authentic media media makers writing

or LAB.com, a website that provides resources and info on software testing and

laboratory equipment (and, by all appearances, is an online Potemkin village or sponsored directory), or Adobe Labs, a site where you’ll find Adobe’s latest beta software. One might start to get the idea that LAB is a popular name for things,

and although we don’t regret choosing it, we did run into some difficulty finding a

domain name, with all permutations of LAB being taken, right down to L-A-B.com. Although we briefly considered L---A---B.com, we finally chose LAB-zine.com (note

the dash), which is certainly preferable to our secondary choice, all-the-best-domain-names-have-been-squatted-so-we-give-up-already.com. All copyrights will

proportional length of articles, in pages

continue to be held by those who originally held them, namely, those who originally wrote the words, drew the illustrations, took the photos, utilized the clip-art in

clever ways, stitched the patterns, set the type, inked the rollers on the press, sewed the signatures, bound the books, wrote the code, posted the entry, or generally

took the time to create something interesting, instead of sitting around complaining that Originality is dead. Any photos that were taken by Joseph Robertson (p49,

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50, 75-77, as well as the photo on the back cover), are licensed under a Creative

Commons license (specifically, the Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareALike Li-

cense), which means the photos can be used for any non-commercial purposes as

long as credit is given (for more info on Creative Commons, visit creativecommons. org). Speaking of the photo on the back cover: it is a riff off of Laura Kicey’s photo on

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the front cover; intended to be more of a design convergence than a weak imitative

rip-off, although, in truth, we fear it has potential to be perceived as the latter. In general, most of the design in this issue was inspired by the folks who generously

agreed to share their time in the form of interviews (and, in some cases, articles). No contributors were paid, as LAB’s budget is fairly— how do you say— nonexistent?

No: minimal. In a comic strip, LAB would be portrayed as wearing a barrel in place of clothing. Of course, barrels can mean many things, and it would not be unreason-

able to compare LAB to, say, a barrel of fun, or, perhaps, a barrel of monkeys. LAB being what it is, a vagabond of a start-up publication about freelance artists, DIY

entrepreneurs, independent business, progressive cultural entrepreneurs, and me-

dia makers of all stripes (and checked patterns), and dedicated to showcasing said

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What Are You Looking At: Rodolphe Simeon The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly: Jim Lucio (aka Defekto) The Way Things Are: Simon Pais Self:Interest | Laura Kicey Get Your Interview On: David Rees Mystery Illustrator: Nicholas Gurewitch Dear Sir: Ray Fenwick Is A Genius (and so are you) My Workday | Matt Hinrichs

folks, we were frankly quite surprised and even perplexed when so many talented

people agreed to our random, bordering-on-unreasonable requests for interviews

and/or contributions. We can only hope it was our roguish charm, raw genius, unfettered courage, and entrepreneurial savoir-faire. More likely it was something

more closely related to Charity, or its ragamuffin cousin, Pity. LAB was originally intended to be a 30-page zine. It very quickly metastasized to a 135+ page project, partially because we got far more response to our requests for participation than

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we initially anticipated, and then we got too excited to separate the material into

2 or 3 issues, which might have been a smart thing to do, in retrospect, because

now the printing costs have grown in direct correlation to page count (which is why 0.5 is being initially released as a PDF). And when it comes to editing or cut-

ting, we tend to leave things a bit on the long and shaggy side (as you may have

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duly noted); you would not want us as your hair stylist, believe you me— you’d come in with a huge head of crazy hair, we’d snip off a few stray hairs sticking out

at odd angles, and then send you on your way. Of course you would not be happy; in fact, you would probably be highly vexed, and demand your money back. You

would say: what, you want that I should look like an angora rabbit? [ed: for reference clarification, see narbc.org] We can only hope that putting out a zine is not like giving a haircut; we’d prefer to think (or at least we tell ourselves this to feel better)

that You, The Reader, want something a little more big, bushy, and natural-looking.

And in that way, the vast majority (versus the infinitesimal minority) of these interviews have not been edited or otherwise pruned, besides maybe snipping off an odd preposition or double space here and there. Most were performed via several

rounds of email, except Ze Frank’s interview, which was done via a Skype phone,

so any discrepancy we blame on the growing pains of VOIP technology. But the

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next issue will definitely be simpler, shorter, more concise, more focused. Less semi-

Red Bat Press: Carye Bye Business as Relationship | Brenda Edin (Tour de Crepes) Talkin’ to the Boss Lady: Deb Dormody (If’n Books) Queen of Craft: Leah Kramer (Craftster.org) #@%&! Potty Mouth: Julie Jackson (Subversive Cross Stitch) Reading Frenzy: Chloe Eudaly Crafting for Profit | PDX Super Crafty Start-up Profile: OFFICE | Kelly Coller + Tony Secolo The Space in Between | Andy Powell (GalloPowell)

colons and ellipses and dashes— more periods. And colons! Because: we will edit

it with lazer-like focus. Interview questions will not exceed their respective answers in length. More questions will be multiple choice, to be filled in with a No 2 pencil,

and scanned in the cafeteria. In fact, each interview will be edited down to one

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We Are the Media: Derek Powazek Will Post For Money | Derek Powazek Death to User-generated Content | Derek Powazek Thinking, So You Don’t Have to: Ze Frank HyperCasting | Mark Pesce The Reluctant Prophet: Kevin Moffett The Volunteer’s Friend | Kevin Moffett (self )interview: Joseph Robertson (LAB)

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Contributors + Links

crisp pull-quote, which will be set in 144-pt type across the spread. No more of this rambling 4-pt fine print. In fact, you’ll be able to read the whole thing on your iPod

while you’re waiting for the next train. But for now, this is the best we can offer. File

under: Material To Read While You’re Waiting in the Dentist’s Office, Desperately Trying to Distract Yourself. By the way, this beta issue can be acquired in digital format

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as a PDF at lab-zine.com, for no cost, and with the wasting of neither ink nor trees (made with recycled 1s and 0s, actually). For those who prefer reading as a more

physical act— the smell of ink, the holding of the spine, the licking of the finger, the

turning of the page, the placing of napkins as bookmarks— we plan on making this issue available via print-on-demand at Lulu.com. It’s probably not necessary to get into which format is better, but we will briefly mention a few of the advantages of the hardcopy issue: 1) it’s easier to read, 2) it’s nice to be able to flip open to a page,

and read at random, and 3) it’s fun to mark up spelling errors with a big fat red marker, and scribble comments in the margins. Speaking of hard copy, snail mail should

be sent to the following address: LAB 5035 NE 25th Ave Portland OR 97211. Vintage

postcards (penned by imaginary characters) are more than welcome. Grammar

mistakes, breaches of etiquette, inconsistencies in style, design crimes, incorrect attributions, improper use of em dashes— if you notice any of these things, please

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send an electronic message to the following electronic address: oops@lab-zine.

com Design notes: all body text set in Myriad. And this note best viewed at 300%. Also, we apologize for the excessive use of the plural. Its rather addictive. Kind of

like having a chorus behind you, or a line of back-up singers in snappy matching outfits. I highly recommend trying it; it works wonders for self-confidence. —JR

Rodolphe Simeon wants to know:

what are you looking at?

Rodolphe Simeon knows how to get your

LAB: How do you approach your portrait subjects?

attention. His photostream on Flickr.com has

RS: Generally, I will go for a walk on the streets with no major plans nor goals. I’ll walk for hours. When I meet people, I stop and start a conversation. I don't have a language barrier because I speak French, German and English… I find it easy to approach people. I can spend up to one hour for a photo. Sometimes more. All this is very natural to me. But I have to say that some of my photos were taken in really short meetings. A sort of “Hi! Can I take a photo?” and the photo is taken immediately. I let my intuition decide which way is the best. Some of the people I meet are truly scary (even if most of them are really nice) and I have sometimes found myself in strange and dangerous situations. Of course, to some, street photography is a violation of intimacy. It's a fine line. But when people do not want to have their picture taken, then the photo is not taken. Even if we have spent hours chatting.

seen an incredible amount of traffic— most of his photos pull in thousands of views, and hundreds of those little pink stars that signify Favorites. A multilingual Parisian photographer who is equally at home in the streets or in the studio, Rodolphe discusses some of his techniques for making the most out of situational photography. Rodolphe also talks about being his own censor, mirroring sex & violence in mass media, and, most importantly, what to do when a Romanian military agent has you in a headlock.

It sounds like you build a rapport with people— you build trust. And, to some degree, it sounds like it's ultimately more about the experience than the resulting photo. The experience is one thing. The photo is another. I try to catch the soul of people. So, for the photos I want to take, most of the time, you can’t have the picture without a deep experience with the people. Quick or long, each meeting is deeply written in my head. Can you describe some of the situations you've encountered? One night in Rome, I met a Romanian guy who claimed to be an ancient military agent. He was in the war in Kosovo. Pretty intense! As we were talking, he suddenly grabbed my head inside his elbow, where it was impossible for me to move. The only thing I tried to do was to stay calm and immobile and not to express fear. He started to play a weird game with me as if he were going to punch me in the face— but would stop his fist when he got close to my face. After a while the situation somehow became normal again. At the end, we ended up taking pictures.

face was seriously

I once photographed a man whose

ld take his picture,

deformed. When I asked him if I cou

from looking at him he agreed immediately. As I went my camera, I was directly, to looking at him through -confidence. He was

overwhelmed by his absolute self

est and sincere. At

completely himself, completely hon

d something inside

this moment, I felt that he change

me how you me profoundly. In a way, he showed exist by just being yourself.

can

You do both candid street photography and studio work. What are some of the differences between working the studio and the street? The basics to my street photography are: 1) you do not decide on the context, and 2) you are constantly making quick decisions to produce powerful photos. My studio work starts by improvised movements or feelings. I try to make things happen spontaneously to start off the shooting. I have loose plans, ideas on make-up, the choice of objects or clothes, a vague theme, but these ideas are just ideas. I let my models be free to act how they want and then I catch them in my world! Like in the street, I have to deal with a person, in this case a model, and make quick on-the-spot decisions. Each person has his or her own gestures, attitudes, and desires. I always try to work around that to produce the photos. I let people propose the feelings that come naturally to them but I do keep control of the photo session. Street photography is great training for that. And sometimes when unexpected things happen, I push to develop the situation. In the street or in studio, I try to take emotional pictures. I believe emotions are a much better way to talk to people than words or obvious messages.

Do you use friends for your studio work? Or do you solicit models? I use friends, models, and strangers. Some people contact me to be photographed in the studio context, and it's very interesting to work with complete strangers. I try to not talk too much before the beginning of the photo shoot because I want to surprise the models. The only basic rule I give to them is: â&#x20AC;&#x153;Let's have fun.â&#x20AC;? But at the actual shoot, I ask weird and unexpected questions because I have a precise idea about what they have to do with their body or faces. So you're not just 'capturing' the models, you're interacting with them, provoking reactions. Any experiences with a camera-shy model who couldn't break out of his or her practiced pose? One time I had a really shy model at a session. You could immediately see that he was completely uncomfortable in his own shell. I asked him to not have any expression on his face and to do some movements with his body. As a result of this difficult exercise, his body and mind became disconnected. What interests me in working with models is to have each person reach an extreme.

Some of your work is very suggestive... very intense & vivid. Have you had any problems with censorship? Whatever the violence is, whatever the sexual dimension is in some of my photos, you can always find a detail that says to you: “That's funny, huh?” It's horrible and ridiculous at the same time. It's like a child's nightmare. For me, this way of doing things is a more efficient way to reach people. Humor opens doors. Frank Zappa was a master in this aspect and a great role model for me. Censorship… hmmm… in a way, I'm mirroring what people accept to watch everyday on TV. And what you see on TV is really far worse than anything I do— you see murder, violence, aggression— all without any humor or deeper meaning. And I've got my own censorship. Some of the pictures I have taken will never be revealed, for I do not want to hurt the viewer or disrespect anyone that was involved. But I'm OK with questions like: “What is love?” / “Are you afraid of death?” / “Why do you like violence?” / “Why do you look at this picture?” I've got no answers to all these questions. They're only questions. And it's really difficult to censor questions.

The photographer is constantly censoring his or her own work, and filtering reality to achieve a vision. Which brings us to the eternal debate over image manipulation… the traditionalists claim that manipulated digital photography isn't "real" enough. But even the film & darkroom photographer is constantly manipulating reality— choosing how to frame the shot, what to exclude, emphasizing different things. What's your take on digital photography and image manipulation? My answer is: copy & paste your own question! [laughs] I supppose the question does answer itself, doesn’t it? But I totally agree with you. It is obvious that reality doesn't exist as an absolute— it’s a construct, and we each build our own version. And in many directions! So how could a photograph show reality? Digital manipulation is just an extension of the camera. Manipulation of pictures has existed ever since photography existed. There is no debate for me.

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What camera do you use? What did you start with? I'm using a Canon 5D with a basic 50mm for closer shots. I'm also using a Polaroid and a Lomo. When I started, about a year ago, I used to have a Canon 350D, a camera I still really like. My lenses are: a 17-40mm (f/4.0) L, a 50mm (f/1.8), and a 70-210mm (f/4.0). Do you have any projects that you’re working on? What I need to do is find an agent. This person could take care of everything. For the moment, I'm taking whatever comes my way because finding an exhibition or the right editor takes a lot of free time. But I'm definitely looking for an agent. What are some of your influences? Almost all of my favorite photographers are photojournalists— James Nachtwey, Sebastiao Salgado, Larry Burrows, Bruce Davidson, Leonard Freed. I would like to work in this direction in the future. I also really like Olivero Toscani because he has the talent to produce pictures that have a lot of impact (even when he is just editing others’ photography). I adore David LaChapelle because he has no fear of bad taste. Another one of my big influences is Apocalypse Now… it's a movie with no real answers but with many questions. Each step of the trip on the river is a meeting with situations or people that are completely extreme in their own way. The main character is like a child watching real life pass by. I feel that I'm basically doing the same thing in photography. ¤ Translation assistance (French / English): Azadeh Tabari ( All photos by Rodolphe Simeon ) Visit Rodolphe’s photostream on Flickr: flickr.com/photos/all_the_names_are_already_taken_pfff/

LAB: You’ve been doing portraits for over 20 years. When did you first start using Polaroids? JL: The first Polaroid I took was with a friend’s camera around 1983. I think it was with a cheap Sun camera, but I fell in love with it nonetheless. I got my own a couple of years later. You use both film and digital. Do you find that those formats influence your style in different ways? Absolutely. With my digital camera I am much more out for the candid shot and really try to avoid posing people unless it is for something specific, like band shots, or some element to a poster or graphic design project. Many times I don’t even bother looking through the viewfinder because I can get more interesting angles and people less expecting their photo to be taken, and I prefer those over the ones where people are all too aware of the camera. But with the Polaroid, I am much slower and calculating about the angle, head position, background, expression and so on. There’s a certain undeniable instant-gratification to Polaroids. Which seems to work well with your subjects— at parties, clubs, parades, concerts. Do people respond differently to your Polaroid camera vs your digital? People do get excited about the Polaroids, and because I’m known in certain circles here in Baltimore as the guy who takes Polaroids, there is sometimes an element of excitement and, “Oh, Defekto took my Polaroid!” People are also less intimidated by a cheap looking Polaroid camera than a more professional-looking camera. And that helps when Polaroiding because I am right in their personal space, 1-2 feet away. But people in general just enjoy having their photos taken, so it’s flattering no matter what camera one uses. It satisfies their ego and makes them feel good, especially if they are out and took some time getting themselves together. Your photography captures a certain cross-section of Baltimore’s scene. Your shots of merry-makers are simultaneously fabulous & seedy, glamorous & raunchy, everything from the shy wallflowers to the

saucy drag queens. A fascinating slice of life that seems to be somewhat subverting traditional Beauty (with a capital B). Discuss. A dented Cadillac is much nicer to me than one that has just been driven off the lot. My choice of subjects is really just me expressing what I like. It’s what I think is beautiful and interesting. I identify more with the weirdos, so by default they also become the subjects I’m most interested in. I do appreciate traditional beauty, but I like to surround myself with what might not always be considered tasteful or visually stunning. Everyone deserves their moment and I am more apt to give it to the people who I think would be overlooked. And in the process, I somehow manage to make all of my subjects look glamorous no matter who they are or what they look like. Have you had any issues with your work being labelled lowbrow or scandalous? I don’t like to label people or my work, but I’m sure there would be people quick to call some of what I do lowbrow. In fact I started a group on Flickr called LOWBROW! I got the inspiration after I realized how much people ate up images of beautiful nature shots, kitty cats, ladybugs and any number of uninteresting and extremely boring subjects. I’m not trying to make high art, but if in the process someone wants to call it that, that’s fine with me. I consider myself a documentarian, then a photographer, so if someone says that my work is scandalous, then it’s more of a comment on humanity than my work. That makes sense. You’re basically documenting a certain scene, a certain slice of Baltimore. I’ve seen the LOWBROW group on flickr— fun stuff. A good antidote to all the uber-sweet stuff. And interesting you should talk about the popularity of the kitty cats & ladybugs— I call it the Puppies, Sunsets, and Rainbows Syndrome. What’s your take on the popular tendency towards all things vanilla & supercute? I think people need to belong to something, whether it be a religious group, an online community or even that strange group of men who wear chinos and untucked long-sleeved dress

shirts with flip flops. There are others like them and that makes people feel like they are counted and that contributes to the whole homogenization, the blanding, of America. We don’t need another Starbucks or McDonalds, yet people want them— don’t even get me started— I’m actually appalled that Starbucks is branching out so far beyond coffee that they feel the need to sell music and are now getting into the movie business and publishing too. It’s disappointing that so many people will sacrifice their individuality to conform. It’s like, why bother going to the cool indie record or bookstore when you can just get your stupid skinny latte and pick up the new cd and book that Starbucks is currently promoting? All in the name of quality and good taste… it’s so limiting. I think this homogenization creates intolerance and ignorance, but on the upside, it makes finding the people who are interesting a lot easier. What have been some of your influences? Being from Baltimore, you must get some John Waters comparisons, no? I’ve heard people say, “This is so John Waters.” Those comparisons used to bother me… even before I lived in Baltimore. Sometimes it’s inevitable, like when I shot a drag queen hovering over a body that is bleeding pork & beans… there just aren’t very many people who would do that, and maybe John Waters would, but so would I. I love his early films and am probably somewhat influenced because I saw them when I was a teenager, but more than that I would say we simply share similar sensibilities. My major influences are Andy Warhol, Diane Arbus, and PT Barnum. Any plans for a film project? Years ago I used to want to be a filmmaker. I made my share of Super 8 psychodramas and wrote a lot. Those aspirations were put on hold and then forgotten for a long time, but lately I have been thinking of planning a short animated film, but there’s so little time in the week, I don’t know if I can. I need a benefactor.

Ah. Yes. Calling all benefactors! Maybe we should have a Benefactors Wanted section in the back of LAB. I’m only half-joking. Right then. So your bio Ah. Yes. Calling all benefactors! Maybe we mentions should that you’re a graphic designer and party have a Benefactors Wanted section in the back promoter. of LAB. Could you talk a little bit about the work I’m only half-joking. So your bio mentions that youyou’re do with Flux Studio? And what being a party a graphic designer & party promoter. Couldpromoter you talk a involves? little bit about the work you do with Flux Studio? And what does being a party promoter involve?Flux Studios is a very new venture. My boyfriend, Jeremy Crawford, and I curate art shows and I will Flux Studios is a very new venture. My boyfriend, be using it as a photo and design studio. When Jeremy Crawford, and I curate art shows we andmoved I will to Baltimore from New York four years be using it as a photo and design studio. ago,When I couldn’t find any work so on a whim I started we moved to Baltimore from New York four throwing years parties under the name Sideshow! I ago, I couldn’t find any work so on a whimbegan I started booking bands, hired a DJ, and cast friends throwing parties under the name Sideshow! I in theatrical roles to liven up the atmosphere. I began booking bands, hired a DJ, and cast went friends into the whole party promoting thing as in theatrical roles to liven up the atmosphere. kind of anI art project. I almost didn’t care if anyone went into the whole party-promoting liked thingit,asI just wanted to have fun doing it, and kind of an art project. I almost didn’t care laugh if anyone at the results. Now, my favorite thing to do liked it, I just wanted to have fun doing is to it, get anda group of friends to form a band that laugh at the results. Now, my favorite thing doesn’t to do exist and promote it Barnum style, “First is to get a group of friends to form a band East Coast that Appearance!” They practice a few times doesn’t exist and promote it Barnum style, and meanwhile “First I promote them as if they were the East Coast Appearance!” They practice a few Beatles times and everyone comes out for it. It’s such a and meanwhile I promote them as if theysatisfying were the prank. I’ll be unleashing two new bands Beatles and everyone comes out for it. It’s in asuch few weeks a at my 3rd Annual Nightmare Be satisfying prank. You have heard of Joyce DeSalvo and the Telemarketers, haven’t you? But of course! That’s the hot new phenomenon But of from course! That’s the hot new phenomenon Baltimore, right? from Baltimore, right? She’s very hot right now! As is Wayne Mutant and Meat Vegan. You spent some time designing backgrounds at Nickelodeon for Blue’s Clues. What was that like? I loved working on the show. It was a really cool place to be and watch it just explode, but it became such a marketing giant that the selling of merchandise and toys overshadowed the actual production of the show and that’s when it stopped being fun for me, so I left. In fact, the experience turned me off to work in general and New York City is all about work, so we decided to move to Baltimore. I would love to be a part of that kind of creative atmosphere again, but I don’t know if it would mean as much to me unless I create it myself. A friend and I talk occasionally about putting a pilot together to pitch for a show of our own, so maybe soon we can actually start working on that.

Joyce DeSalvo

It seems a certain essential ingredient in your work is being able to approach people. I’ve done some candid street photography, and I know it takes a certain skillset to ask random strangers to allow you to take their photo; it’s not just all Point & Shoot. What’s your secret to establishing a rapport or degree of trust with random strangers? Of the hundreds of random strangers I’ve photograhed, I could count the number of people who refused to have their photo taken on one hand. It does take a degree of nerve to just walk up to someone, and if I feel that they may reject me, I usually try to talk to them about something else then ask for the photo. When asked why or what it’s for, I usually just tell the truth— because they look fantastic. It’s harder to do on the street, especially if someone seems to be in a hurry to get somewhere, but if it’s in a bar or club, people are relaxed and not going anywhere and that makes it much easier.

One of the taglines on your website [defekto.com] is: The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly. Your aesthetic seems to be the opposite of Hear No Evil, See No Evil. Have there been any photo shoots that have just been too gruesome, too raunchy, too fugly for you to post? Does anything end up on the cutting floor, and, if so, why? I don’t leave much on the cutting room floor. I wouldn’t shoot it to begin with if I thought it was too much. I don’t think I’d photograph an accident or something that was exploitive or emotionally painful to the subject, but I don’t care if someone sees a photo of mine and is offended by it because they think it’s distasteful.

For the Flickr users out there who know you by the name Defekto… what are the origins behind the name?

A space to practice your autograph.

I originally came up with the name Defekto when I was trying to think of a word to use as a domain name. Everything was taken so I had to make one up. I liked it because it conveyed an element of defectiveness or something not being right and that’s a feeling I get with my work. I’m not about perfection in either my photo or design work. The first time someone walked up to me and asked if I was Defekto, I realized that the name was more than just a website, it was me.

It is catchy. Sort of like the opposite of Perfecto. And it works as an adjective, too: “That’s so defekto.” Any plans for Defekto swag? Defekto is kind of developing as its own brand. A style, an attitude, slightly distasteful yet compelling… I should have my own fragrance. The bottle could be shaped like a little garbage can. There will probably be T-shirts in the near future, mostly to satisfy my graphic urges. A friend suggested I open a modeling agency called Defektiv Models… I would love that. You recently hung a gallery show. Do you have any big projects on the horizon? A book? My first big show consisted of 365 Polaroid portraits that I took over the course of a year in Baltimore and I would love to photograph the people in another city, maybe Detroit or Las Vegas. I have no doubt there will be a book at some point and a guy here in Baltimore has expressed interest. I am open to discuss the first Defekto book with any interested publishers. ¤ Visit Defekto’s photostream on Flickr: flickr.com/photos/defekto/

LAB We are all stars.

I believe that impossible things can happen. That’s who I am. That’s what I do for a living.

Making real the things I dream and see in this tiny brain of mine.

Simon Pais

My first exhibition was during my first year at college. It was called ‘Autocórpora’ (which, in English, means ‘auto body’), and it contained nudes and self-portraits.

Right: Simon Pais-Thomas, self-portrait Left: Iñigo Urrutia

Some people loved it, some people hated it, and some people were saying ‘You’re an insult to the race!’ That was a year ago, and today I keep doing it. It’s truly my passion.

Human beings always want to know things for a fact. They never stop asking questions, so they come up with answers. So they can live in peace and quiet.

Personally, Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve learned to appreciate things just the way they are. Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m not trying to find answers, maybe there are some things that just ARE.

I like what men can bring to the picture a lot, especially when they break the rigid line of their bodies, but I prefer women. They have that special thing, that special personification of themselves that adds such a strong feeling to the picture. Since I was little I drew a lot, but 90% of those drawings were female faces, nudes, elastic poses. So it is easy for me to imagine things with females, because they can do everything and still look like women. For men it’s more complicated— a strange pose converts a man into a gay man or drag queen— which I would love to photograph— but it’s not helpful when they want to look like the universal concept of what a man is. I hope that’s something we’ll see dying quickly.

Simon Pais-Thomas hails from Santiago, Chile. About three years ago, Simon started teach himself digital photography, using a pair of relatively inexpensive point-and-shoot cameras (a Nikon CoolPix & a Sony CyberShot), and utilizing equipment from the local college. Learning as he went along, Simon produced a body of work that quickly found a receptive audience in the photo-sharing community, Flickr— racking up some 600,000 views in his photostream. Things blossomed from there. His recent work includes fashion features for Paula magazine & INFAME, and he just started working with Estudio 185. See more of Simon’s work here: flickr.com/photos/simonpais/

top left: Iñigo Urrutia left: Bernardita Traub below: from INFAME issue 01, Catalina Silver, Bianca Hassler

Quotes excerpted from Daniel Gebhard’s interview with Simon Pais. The full text of the interview is available here: flickrz.info/topics/Simon+Pais

Self:Interest

Laura Kicey Presenting ourselves photographically is an intimate act. It can be a call for attention, a flirtation, a flaunt, a gauntlet dropped, a confrontation. By creating our own image we can assert our identity on the viewer, create a new persona, indulge in our narcissism, or engage our audience in a more intimate manner. Even so, as much as we might try to disguise ourselves or distance ourselves from images of ourselves, there is always a grain of truth. We cannot control the consequences of those images or the way others will perceive them. People hunger to have that voyeuristic glimpse into our lives.

in the first person I have always felt that everything we make is, in a sense, a self-portrait. Our photographs are a reflection of our personal vision; using our own face is just doing so in the most literal sense. My camera acts as a confidante. The act of making a self-portrait is inherently deliberate. We cannot catch ourselves off-guard. The very nature of photography involves forcing something out of its original context, editing that moment by framing it in the viewfinder and holding it there eternally. The self-portrait is an act of intervention. The subject is no longer being casually observed. One must actively present oneself to the camera. Awareness of the camera is inescapable when the photographer is being photographed.

A self-portrait can be achieved without the use of the photographer’s face, or even a part of the body. How we present ourselves, whether it is represented with a macro of our eye or the palm of our hand, can be as revelatory about our true natures as a more formal portrait. The means we use to create a public ‘face’ for ourselves, and how we build upon this image to tell our story, is the real challenge of self-portraiture.

“The camera always points both ways. In expressing your subject, you also express yourself.” Freeman Patterson

Every photograph we make is part of a learning process. We turn our lens on our respective worlds, on the people who inhabit it, on the new places we discover, and on the scenes we’ve created. We find truth and we create fiction with our cameras. It seems a natural thing to turn the camera around and examine ourselves, or even to recreate ourselves.

why me? The photographer’s presence is implied in every photograph taken. With self-portraiture the implication is made overt. If you have a camera, the first person available to photograph is most obviously yourself. Whether it is a narcissistic impulse, or a convenience, using the self as subject allows us the most freedom we can take with a model. We are completely aware of our own intentions. It also offers the most control we can exert over our own self-image.

How we edit ourselves is also revealing.We might seek to present what we see as our best side. While some choose to idealize, others may touch on their fears and dreams, introducing the viewer to a darker alter-ego. Since the mirror only gives us an inverted version of ourselves, it can be the truest version of ourselves we are capable of seeing. Some self-portraitists erase their identities to use themselves as an anonymous model, an everyman. The self-portrait can be an image of how we think we appear, how we wish we appear to others, or even a disguise. Other such images may not be so much about how we look but an attempt to sketch an emotion, or a moment of light and color. It can serve as a cathartic release, as a reminder to ourselves, an invitation to the viewer, or a way of creating a mystery. It can show us aspects of ourselves we cannot otherwise see. Perhaps we can even explain to ourselves that which we could not otherwise bear. Bravery is as much a part of self portraiture as deceit.

photos

1) Dustin Fenstermacher 2) Laura Kicey 3) Lara Jade

questioning the self When are we most whole and true before the camera? At our worst? Our best? When we wake, while we sleep? While not observed? Behind our everyday mask or when we take it off? In a sense, a self-portrait is the ultimate dramatization.

It’s important to remember that we are not frozen in time in that frame of 1/100th of a second. Do we ever paint a complete picture? Since we are always changing, perhaps when we pose the question to ourselves with the camera, the answer is always different. And it is never the wrong answer. ¤

As a photographer who makes self-portraits and posts them on the internet, I have gained an awareness of the dynamic between being a viewer and being the viewed. I often use selfportraits as emotional markers in time, so my self-explorations become both internal and external. After experiencing something intense, I want to create something as both a reaction and a reminder. It helps me process it, honor the memory, and move on. The choices we make in creating our own images are as complex as we are as a person. What the viewer makes of it is another part of the equation in this silent social interaction.

through other’s eyes In an age when more and more our initial ‘meetings’ with people are less frequently face-to-face, self-portraiture often replaces a handshake and a smile . It is a very human response to want to put a face to the work, the words. Looking at self-portraits of other photographers can give us a rich sense of character; the creative manner in which they use themselves to tell stories, create abstractions, or pin down an emotional state is very telling. I also want to see if their vision of themselves matches the rest of what they make. It’s fascinating to watch someone new to self-portraiture unfold and develop, to observe things begin to form parallels and overlap.

6 photos 4) Edgar Dacosta 5) Simon Pais 6) Lara Jade 7) Rodolphe Simeon

I also find looking at self portraits helps me develop a sense of how to shoot portraits of other people. I gain a new understanding of what angles emphasize different aspects of the face, how the face wears an expression. The more clearly I can see myself, the more clearly I can see everything around me. On a more empathetic level, I learn what is comfortable to do in front of the camera.

Get Your Interview On

David Rees, the creator of the comic strips My New Fighting Technique Is Unstoppable, Get Your War On, My New Filing Technique is Unstoppable, and The Adventures of Confessions of Saint Augustine Bear, the slam-talkin’ grandmaster of clip-art re-purposing, does some interview kung-fu on an insouciant young grasshopper at LAB, and hands him his ass on a platter.

with the one & only

David Rees

David Rees, everyone. David, is your fighting technique truly unstoppable? No, I don’t have a fighting technique. I never took karate or kung-fu or whatever you call it. That kind of activity never interested me. I took piano lessons and played soccer. Do you want to fight me? Like, if we can get this brick wall out of the way? I don’t want to fight you. I hate you but I don’t want to fight you. (Just kidding, I don’t hate you. Who are you?) (LAB: Actually, to be honest, I don’t want to fight you. If my life were a comic strip, it would maybe be My Fight-Avoidance Technique Is Unstoppable.) *ahem* You’re currently getting ready to go on tour with John Hodgman. How did you two meet up? Hodgman contacted me after reading My New Fighting Technique is Unstoppable in 2000. He basically contacted me to tell me what a genius I am. (“Thanks, and by the way, tell me something I don’t know.”) Then we became friends. Then he said, “Do you mind if I become the biggest celebrity in the world?” And I said, “Hell no!” So I called Hewlett-Packard and said, “Make this dude the star of your commercials. But you should pretend they’re Apple commercials so hipsters are OK with it.”

You’ve donated all the proceeds from Get Your War On (and part II) to a non-profit that helps clean up minefields in Afghanistan. How’s that effort going? OK, I guess. There’s still lots of work to do and it’s more difficult when the country is unstable, as it is right now. Hamid Karzai doesn’t seem to have much authority outside of Kabul, and the NATO commander recently said they need more money and more troops or else the country will disintegrate. So basically everything should be perfect in about two weeks. Awesome. Legend has it that you started My New Fighting Technique Is Unstoppable while working a temp job… was it a product of sheer boredom, or did a golden shaft of light come down from the Clip Art Gods and illuminate your cubicle…? Tell us a little about the humble origins of MNFTIU… Boredom, boredom, and boredom. I was surfing rap web sites at my temp job so I decided to make a comic where people talk shit to each other. I came across the karate clip art and the rest is history… as you will soon see on the History Channel when they profile me and my WWII fighting squadron.

What’s been the best/worst part of the attention you’ve received over GYWO and MNFTIU? BEST: Meeting all the famous celebrities I do drugs with now. “Just a minute Cher, I’ll be done with this interview in a second. Keep the cocaine mountain ready for me.” WORST: Always getting arrested for all my drug-smoking because I am a high-profile lifestyle influencer. “Sorry Kate Moss, I smoke more crack than you and I look better doing it.” What are some of the jobs you’ve worked in the past? Did any of them influence your style?

Just regular crummy jobs. Boring temp jobs with computers. Jobs that make you feel like a loser, so you create fantasy cartoon worlds where people yell at each other because they’re panicked about their lives. Adventures of Confessions of Saint Augustine Bear. Could you talk a little bit about where the inspiration for this strip came from? Well for one thing, the inspiration came from a little book called The Confessions of Saint Augustine, which is awesome. I had been reading it at a temp job and I also had a new collection of animal clip art, so I thought, what if I made a comic called Adventures of Confessions of Saint Augustine Bear? I decided to announce the public debut of this comic before I had made a single strip, and that motivated me to actually create it. And it’s been so much fun, and so rewarding, that I’ve made like a grand total of ten strips in the past three years or something. LAZY!!! Do you think animals are capable of sarcasm? OH, SURE, ABSOLUTELY. What, you mean you don’t think animals are capable of sarcasm?

No, seriously, I do— because AREN’T HUMANS ANIMALS???

Actually, I was rather under the impression that animals are tiny automata, made of little intricate gears and parts. Like Jacques de Vaucanson’s Digesting Duck, which followed the principles of Descartes’s mechanistic universe, and bolstered the Enlightenment-era belief that animals were just automaton meat machines. Right. It’s been said that Get Your War On, was a response to Vanity Fair editor Graydon Carter’s post-Sept-11 comment that “irony was dead.” I think it would be fair to say that irony is alive and kicking. In fact, you might even say it flourishes on the internets. Any comment on the current condition of irony? Well, I don’t really like irony for irony’s sake. (“Let’s tell a bunch of rape-and-AIDS jokes to prove how edgy we are.”) So I think in a way I am coming around to Graydon Carter’s point, even though he still strikes me as a pompous dickface. Or actually, I think I leapfrogged his point about the death of irony, and found my own point about the death of irony. I took his point to mean it was no longer appropriate to make fun of the government, or to tell jokes about horrible tragedies. This seemed to play into the hands of the White House, who wanted everyone’s balls in a cup after 9/11 so they could do whatever they wanted. But I think it is morally-appropriate to take an ironic attitude towards life. See Contingency, Irony, and Solidarity by Richard Rorty. Which I just happen to have read! Isn’t that convenient? Of course, Rorty’s account of our present situation rests on the by-now familiar neo-Wittgensteinian contention that we have no permanent access to the truth; all we have are the vocabularies we create: Truth cannot be out there— cannot exist independently of the human mind— because sentences cannot so exist, or be out there. The world is out there, but descriptions of the world are not. Only descriptions of the world can be true or false. The world on its own— unaided by the describing activities of human beings— cannot.

Do you agree that there is no universal truth? And, if that is the case, is it okay to steal crap like those little soap bars from hotel rooms? I doubt there is a “universal truth.” However, that doesn’t mean people are free to do whatever they want. Morality and ethics don’t need to be pegged to universal truths in order to function. But you are certainly allowed to take those little soap bars from hotel rooms— that’s how I get all my shampoo.

You’ve received a buttload of press in the last 4-5 years. Journalists seem to relish characterizing you as a well-mannered, polite guy in a brown sports jacket. Any comment?

“

Fuck ‘em all. “Peace Sells… But Who’s Buying?” Megadeth quotes. Heavy metal attitude, punk rock

Your ISP resolved to my server. Are you following me? You are your own worst enemy, “Mean

flair. The hottest shoes and hairstyles. This is the new David Rees. Welcome to 1492— the 2006

Streets Media.” Collect ten farts in your spreadsheet and sell it to China. “The World Is Flat.”

edition. Columbus discovers America in a whole new way. An America known as DAVID REES.

Your mom’s economy is made out of combat boots. Hint for all journalists: If you want to write

“Show me the maize, show me the money.” Jerry Maguire, the Director’s Cut, Starring David Rees.

the ultimate, most accurate article about me, just take the latest profile of Sofia Coppola* and

Question: Is he the next Tom Cruise? Question: Since when was he not? Screw the journalists.

replace her name with mine and your job is done. The Pulitzer Prize Committee is looking for

There is no objective reality. Destroy all magazines. Poop on the newspaper and feed it to your

you—“Special Award, Best Celebrity Profile.” Congratulations: You are now fair and balanced. Oh,

dog. Welcome to the blogosphere, the new media. I saw you in Lou Dobbs’ comments section.

and pay me ten dollars every time you interview me.

* quote from Something About Sofia from Vanity Fair, Sept 2006

A piece in the LA Weekly described your strips as having “the audacity to laugh at death itself.” Do you scoff at death, sir?

No, I don’t scoff at death, because that implies that I don’t take it seriously. I guess I make jokes about life-and-death situations so that somehow, people will hopefully remember how serious all this shit is.

”

You spent some time as a fact-checker for Maxim magazine. Is this where you developed an unstoppable filing technique? What type of filing system do you use at home? My dad was a librarian so my interest in filing systems is genetic. Maxim didn’t have a filing system—just a bunch of male chauvinists sitting around with their hands down their pants. If you had the choice between… a) Chuck Norris as your private bodyguard b) a bison-compatible robotic arm with opposable thumbs c) the ability to turn into a giant invisible octopus once a month e) a magic self-organizing filing cabinet

My New Fighting Technique Is Unstoppable / David Rees

Number E, the special filing cabinet. I just moved into a new office and all my many files are all a-strewn all about the place and I wish I had a cabinet (or maid) to clean and organize them. Also, where is choice “D”? Sorry. I think option D was snorted at last night’s consortium of techno-pundits, sometime shortly after the lecture on how to build your own bison-compatible robotic arm with opposable thumbs out of pipe cleaners & beef jerky. If you could live for a day in any comic strip, which would you pick?

Any words of wisdom for young grasshoppers looking to find their way in the world of cartooning?

Prepare not to be rich. Seriously, just kidding.You will be rich. Just do what makes you laugh and have fun! But seriously, seriously, make sure you can borrow money from your parents if things get rough. ¤

My answer to this question has been the same for twenty years: I would live in the comic strip Pogo, in the Okefenokee Swamp.

Get Your War On / David Rees

My New Fighting Technique Is Unstoppable / David Rees

Get Your War On / David Rees

Little is known about the creator of the The

is said to cause incontinence, indigestion, and,

Perry Bible Fellowship, a “comic strip” that

if left untreated: color blindness. And that is

has developed an obsessive, and some say,

no laughing matter, folks. Fast-forward to our

fanatical, following. LAB decided it was time

investigation: after bribing an ex-NSA agent

to do some investigation into this highly-

with a rare, autographed copy of Thomas

addictive “strip” and its creator. Preliminary

Pynchon’s V set in ROT13, we were able to obtain

studies shows that consumption of this “strip”

an email address for the creator of the strip.

can lead to some serious side effects, including

We sent a email requesting an interview. The

tightening of the chest, difficulty breathing,

prompt answer: yes. But only on the condition

facial spasms, paroxysms of maniacal laughter,

that the identities of his family members be

the involuntary spitting of hot beverages,

protected. So we are thrilled to bring to You,

and a curious form of hysteria that modern

The Reader, the following interview, which

youngsters often refer to as “rotflmao.” Rotflmao

may cast a light upon the shady work of…

Nicholas Gurewitch, Mystery Illustrator

LAB: Nicholas Gurewitch— if that is indeed your name— how did you become involved with the shady underground realm of comics?

anti-Christian. I just like the way those words sound together, the sacred mingling with the mundane.

NG: I’ve always been looking for ways to exhibit my shady, underground feelings. It was a natural decision to look to newspaper comics as a medium, especially in college. It seems like the comics in newspapers are some of the most prominently-placed “art” there is.

Your style has been called absurdist, surrealist, and probably a lot of other things that end in an “-ist” suffix… what are some of your influences?

Yeah. It’s going to be sweet. Any plans on working with serialized characters? Or does that just get to be too limiting? I have had a few recurring characters. Serialization has never been that appealing to me though. Case in point: Killers. Television.

What question do you get most?

I love people who know how to handle secrets. I love it when artists wink at you from underneath their material. Wagner. Kubrick. Cosby. I’m always trying to be like these guys.

I’ve read that the Universal Press Syndicate talked to you, but they wanted something with less violence & no sex. Any comment?

People ask about the title a lot. I have a hard time explaining it. I don’t mean for it to sound

I’ve heard that there’s a book in the works… are the rumors true?

United Features has been interested too. I search my heart for the desire to go through

with this, and can’t quite turn up the necessary inspiration. I had considered doing a “light” one-frame comic for newspapers, but I’m thinking it might be reckless to disseminate something on that scale unless it was out of true love. I’ll be frank— I enjoy The PBF because it doesn’t assume its audience is stupid or naive. What’s your take on the Lowest Common Denominator Syndrome; ie, the bigger an audience, the more you have to dumb it down…? I don’t mind missing out on 50% of my potential audience for The PBF, just as long

as potential enjoyment is doubled. However, there are rare works that blur the line between dumb and intelligent— films like The Empire Strikes Back or E.T. ; works so mythically strong that they force people into having at least a few shunts of inspired brain activity. The quality of these works should be pursued. Indeed. Have any publications ever refused to run a PBF strip? My local paper, The Rochester City News, doesn’t usually run the sexy ones. The Guardian also occasionally avoids publishing a phallus, but don’t we all.

Do you bounce your ideas for new strips off a crew of cronies? I’ve got a tight circle of fellows who I run most ideas by. I’ve been getting a lot of help from my friend Jordan Morris lately. When we’re both giddy with laughter, I can tell we’re on to something good. The trend in graphic novels seems to moving more towards the autobiographical… but The PBF seems to be in more of a parallel universe / anthropomorphic genre, along with The Far Side, MAD Magazine, and Groening’s Life in Hell. Discuss.

I guess I miss the good ol’ days. What two comic strips would you like to see mashed up or merged? Why don’t we let Marmaduke get his paws on Garfield. Better yet, I’d really like to see Garfield get his paws on Mallard Filmore—assuming that cat eats something other than lasagna. If you could illustrate any book cover, what book would you choose? Off the top of my head, I think it’d be great fun to do something for Winnie the Pooh. The

Hundred Acre Wood has some pretty nifty trees in it. Either that, or maybe George Orwell’s Animal Farm. What term offends you least: 1) Cartoonist 2) Graphic Novelist 3) Comic Artist 4) Illustrator 5) Maker of Comics 6) Other Everyone associates cartoons with animation, and “comic” has about 40 different connotations. “Illustrator” might be the most

accurate. If I were to name an Other, it would probably be “storyteller”. Unfortunately, that sounds about as pretentious as “graphic novelist”. Any golden words of wisdom to the aspiring storytellers out there? Cherish your misery. ¤ Always good advice. Thank you, Nicholas. Folks, you can find more about The PBF here: pbfcomics.com

Dear Sir, Ray Fenwick is a genius (and so are you) pretty strong desire to see it in print. I mean, some nice warm-white paper and a massive, 20-colour silkscreen fold-out poster of myself writing poetry in a little rowboat or something… it would be glorious.

LAB: The much-beloved one-panel serial, Hall of Best Knowledge, closed up shop last month. What were some of your reasons for retiring HOBK? RF: Well, when I originally started it I told myself I would do it for a year, no longer. I think I passed that by about 3 months, and so it was time to sort of initiate the shutdown sequence. I was still really enjoying it but wanted to end it while I was still proud of the work. If you care deeply about something you work on, and you know that at least two other people feel the same way, you kind of owe it to yourself and those people not to have it go downhill. It’s painful for me to watch something like The Simpsons now because it’s just a tattered corpse version of its former self. It’s like having your funniest friend die, and then lo & behold someone keeps digging them up and bringing them to parties. The decay, the stench, it’s not good for your fond memories.

Especially the fold-out poster. Although I was actually hoping it would be of you writing poetry while riding a pony. Do you think that would feasible? That would be splendid, although my mom would maybe take offense, because she trains people to ride horses and having her son riding a pony would probably be insulting. She could never get me to ride horses, so it would be a huge slap in the face. I guess what I’m saying is that maybe you should RIDE YOUR OWN GOD DAMN PONY.

Any plans for a book?

Touche, sir! Moving on: according to your site, your day job involves managing a soon-to-be letterpress print shop. Could you tell us a little more about that?

Yes, absolutely, I’m working on that. As much as I loved that people could see HOBK online, I’ve always made it with the hopes that it could be viewed in book form. You pick up on a lot more when you can just sort of settle in with a book in your lap, because it’s obviously a much more intimate context. Plus, if I was to read it with my laptop on my lap, I would probably seriously burn my crotch, maybe even lose the ability to have children. I don’t want people to have horribly-scalded genitals. The designer and book lover in me also has a

I’m working at NSCAD (the art school I graduated from here in Halifax), helping to set up a letterpress print shop as a sort of commercial enterprise part of the school. It should be up and running in the new year, selling letterpress-printed ephemera of all sorts and doing custom jobs. I’ll be the head designer and printer, but there will be some completely unfortunate people working with me as apprentices. God forbid I would do something that doesn’t involve lettering or typography. Talk about a one-trick pony.

Again with the pony motif! What type of work will the letterpress be handling? In truth, that sounds like a dream job— head printer! With apprentices, to boot! Will you make the apprentices wear aprons and maybe floppy hats? Actually they will have to wear aprons, but they are really nice ones! We’ll be printing a little of everything: cards, stationery, broadsides, wedding invites, posters and limited edition prints. It really is a dream job. How did you get involved with setting type? Like many designers and artists I was always pretty intrigued by the whole process, and the last year of my studies I was lucky enough to take some classes with an amazing printer and bookbinder, Joe Landry. For our first project we were supposed to do something like a business card, but I thought it would be fun to try to typeset these old dense typographic almanac pages. It was ridiculously frustrating—setting type the size of toothpicks for your first outing can be a wee bit nerve-wracking— but also incredibly satisfying. Letterpress is amazing because you get to do both conceptual work and manual labour, and that balance of the different tasks is nice. The printed result is pretty hard to beat, too. On a simple level, even holding a piece of type in your hand can be a wonderful thing, in that it is a physical and direct connection to an incredible amount of history.

I’ve seen your online gallery of Winnipeg letters… faded turn-of-the-century wall ads, handmade signage, irregular hand-lettering… when or how did your interest in vernacular typography begin? And has any of the lettering around Winnipeg influenced your style? I don’t really know when or how my interest began, but I am definitely influenced by vernacular lettering, all that stuff you mentioned. I just love all the honesty and humanity of it, it’s beautiful, but also kind of comforting at the same time. Everything around us has this sort of perfected, confident sheen, and we’re bombarded by that every day. So when you have the chance to see something that shows a little vulnerability it’s kind of a relief, it’s like someone is actually trying to make an emotional connection. I’m romanticizing it a bit here, maybe even being a little maudlin, but for me, that stuff is important. I really like to see vernacular signage where it’s mostly normal, like the artist understands the rules of making these letters or forms but has maybe forgotten a couple. Those gaps make for some interesting qualities. I try to work that way, learning how to draw certain things properly to a point so that I understand the basic mechanics, but then let some of it go and let my own ideas interpolate. I think that’s sort of how some folk typography operates, and I love it.

What are some of your peeves when it comes to

design?

My only real pet peeve is when I struggle really hard with ideas at the beginning of a project, which is pretty much 75% of the time. I have a sizable amount of self-hatred so it can get pretty excruciating, especially for people close to me. I’m lucky to have an amazing group of friends and a patient girlfriend though, and that definitely helps to keep things in perspective. It’s good to get intima tely involved with what you’re working on, but just as important to take a macro view every once in a while. Maybe I should start taking Quaaludes before I start a project, that might help relax me a bit. Then my pet peeve will be when I am almost out of Quaaludes, which is easily solved by the purchase of more quaaludes.

Which are readily available at your average Printer’s Corner Shop, of course. If you could be any typeface…? There is this Jorge Luis Borges story— it’s called the Library of Babel, I think— where there is an infinitely large library that contains every book ever written. The books contain every imaginable combination of letters, meaning that while one book might be Harry Potter, the next could be filled with gibberish. I’d like to be the typeface version of the Library of Babel. That, or that novelty face made out of hot dogs. Snazzy. Snazzy indeed. What are some of your influences? Not to brag, but I have some pretty amazing friends and peers, and I’m constantly surprised and invigorated by the stuff they’re doing. They’re all so passionate, and very different, so I’m always being introduced to foreign ways of thinking. In terms of people I’ve never met, though, I owe an inspirational debt to visual artists like Ed Ruscha and David Shrigley; cartoonists like Jeffrey Brown, David Rees, Marc Bell; designers like Ed Fella and the Emigré folks; type designers like Jonathan Hoefler, Zuzana Licko; writers like Hans Christian Andersen, Jonathan Lethem, the McSweeney’s crowd.

What term offends you least: 1) Cartoonist 2) Graphic Novelist 3) Comic Artist 4) Illustrator 5) Maker of Comics 6) One Who Draws On A Regular Basis, Whether For Purpose of Sharing or Merely for Self-Gratification Oh, I like 6), it sounds like the kind of watery, timid answer I tend to give. I have a problem labeling myself as any of those things only because I don’t want to insult anyone. If I say I am a cartoonist, illustrator, graphic designer, letterpress printer and artist, that’s five large sectors of creative society that will take offense. That’s a lot of pissed off people, so I think 6) sounds great.

You also do freelance design— what are some of the best/worst parts about that? I had one client make fun of my clothes and question my sexuality in the same meeting… that was pleasant. As for the best and worst parts of the design world, I would say the best is being able to do something that touches someone from time to time, the worst being how meaningless design can feel sometimes. If you could have a discussion with any artist, living or dead… I get nervous talking to important people, so I would rather avoid that altogether. Besides, just because people do work I admire doesn’t mean they would be fun to hang out with. I’d just spend the whole time trying to prove myself worthy of their company and end up peeing on them or something.

Fair enough. I hate it when you find yourself peeing on your idols. Always awkward. Okay. Right then. Are there any trends in modern type & layout that kindle your wrath? Any fonts you particularly despise, that you would give a good box upon the ears if the chance arose? Kindle my wrath, ha! I like that, especially since my wrath is like a fire, or so I have been told by those who it hath consumed. Honestly though, I try not to look at too much work from other illustrators or designers because it always depresses me and makes me feel worthless or jealous. I donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t think trends are worth getting worked up about. Your rage can be put to way better uses than freaking out about how everyone is using scripts poorly.

If you could pick one (and only one) of the following, which would you choose: a) a magic typewriter which could type in perfect cursive b) a Langston monotype caster c) a cloning machine d) a government grant to discover the 27th letter of the alphabet e) a vaccine that would rid mankind of Comic Sans once and for all Before I pick, I should say that I have a friend who has a typewriter that does cursive, and it is pretty magnificent. I’ll take one of those, please. You’ve been quoted as saying, “Creative people are just so FUNKY, what with their creative minds always doing something jazzy like funking up a jazzy idea and giving it their own crazy creative jazz-funk funky twist…” Could you elaborate on the uncanny ability of creative people and their propensity to “jazz things up,” as it were? Ha, wow, I guess when you spray sarcasm out in to the internet it can really come back as a fine mist on your face. I’ll have to keep that in mind. Ahem. To answer your question though,

I think CREATIVE people are just so

FUNKY. I mean, say you send that CREATIVE guy in the office a WORD document and you know, just say to him “Hey

J A Z Z F A C E ! FUNK this up a bit for me, you know, JAM on it with some FUNKY letters or something!!!!!!!!!!! I’ll need that in FIVE MINUTES, okay

FUNKMASTER?! You’d better get

JAZZING while the rest of us do REAL work, ok?! Think you can find SOME JAZZY little colours and wordies to

FUNK the

JAZZ out of this SUMMARY OF RECENT JOB POSTINGS TO THE HR DATABASE?” Funk-ay! In fact, it jazzes the funk out of this interview. Okay. Do you have any gems of knowledge to offer the funky young modern illustrator? My serious answer would be that good things come out of work that you’re proud of, but you can’t rely on clients to provide the opportunities to make that work. I did the comic and the patterns and all that stuff for fun, and worked hard on it, and that resulted in being able to do some paid projects that were really rewarding. In other words, though it may sound frightfully cheezy: follow your heart, do what you do best, and the rest will follow. I hope that wasn’t rude of me to paraphrase you… you’ve been a tremendous sport, Ray Fenwick. Thank you for sharing your time & genius with us. ¤

So I understand that you’ve just gone full-time with Red Bat Press: how does that feel? Is it what you expected?

Carye Bye is the founder of Red Bat Press, an art press in Portland, OR, that produces quirky, wood-cut illustrated postcards, prints, & calendars. All type is set by hand and printed on antique cast-iron tabletop letterpresses.

Yeah, since July 2006. Before that I’ve had a regular part-time office job— my security blanket. When I quit, I assumed that after a few months I’d have to take another temp job to make ends meet… but I’ve discovered that with more focus, I can accomplish more, and more opportunities and doors seem to be opening. Plus I love being my own boss— I hate being told what to do. I’m really busy and working hard, and I love it. That’s great. Sometimes it’s very tricky to be your own boss. What’s your approach to not turning into your own worst-nightmare boss? Well, I’m very forgiving. If my body is telling me to slow down, or go out to take a walk, I do. Like today, I was printing backs of postcards and I was getting bored, and working slow. Instead of making myself finish, I decided to stop, and save the rest for a new day. So, what did your Other Job entail? 16 hours of office assistant slavery per week— no, it was actually a pretty cush flexible job— but those jobs get old eventually. I wanted my days to have more meaning instead of pushing paperwork around and pretending to be busy. It’s amazing how fast Looking Busy can get tiresome. And it’s a skill! It’s harder than it looks. Speaking of keeping busy, you also organize museum tours, participate in mail art, curate the Bathtub Art Museum, volunteer with the IPRC… where do you find time for all this? What’s your secret? I don’t know how I do it all, but I’m busy to say the least. I love a side project and the museum tours, and Bathtub Art Museum keep me busy. My regular volunteer gigs are with the IPRC and Shift to Bikes [shift2bikes.org]. I find time because they are important ways to spend my time.

Well said. So the press has been around for, what, roughly 4 years? What was your goal from the start?

I’m guessing there’s a story behind the name, Red Bat Press? The first year I made wood-cut postcards I went by my art nickname, Carye the Bee Wood-cuts. The name just wasn’t snazzy enough, so I took inspiration from a red bat paper kite I picked up in San Francisco’s Chinatown. The Chinese love the play on words, and the word “bat” in Chinese also sounds like the word for “luck.” Red is also considered a lucky color. So the idea of a lucky bright Red Bat as my press name seemed to be just right. I still have the red bat kite hanging in my studio office, and it has brought me good luck.

I never really sat down to make a goal for Red Bat Press. In fact, right before I started the press, I was attempting to be a child & pet photographer. The set-up really wasn’t working for me— I felt I had to fit in a certain niche, have certain equipment and presentation. I was wondering where I fit in after awhile, and was feeling dissatisfied. I had done everything ‘by the book’ to start up this first business— wrote a business plan, taught myself HTML so I could make a website, learned how to market, had business cards, a portfolio. When I decided to quit the photography business for good, I had a lot of good business techniques up my sleeve, and liked the thought of creating art that I liked without having to please anyone. I found I could really be myself as a wood-cut printer.

What was your inspiration for the Bunny on A Bike series? The first Bunny on A Bike idea came from a Chinese toy harmonica that pictured animals on bikes. I started sketching my own version of a bunny on a bike in my notebook, and soon after that was working on my first wood-cut print show based on drawings I made while living in Ireland. To my own amusement, I started to add the Bunny on a Bike into actual scenes and thought it was funny how most of the characters didn’t notice this funny little bunny on a bike. The Bunny on a Bike as a solo print appeared in 2002— and he’s been quite refined since the early versions. It’s like seeing the first Simpsons from the Tracey Ullman Show.

Wow. Children & pets. Sounds like some of the toughest subjects imaginable for portraits… I bet you’ve got a horror story or two from that phase? Actually, it was the parents who were just awful. That’s what surprised me the most. Especially the dads. They just wanted to eat up my time talking about camera equipment— which was just not of interest to me. I got on with the children and animals, just not the adults— but they’re the ones who I needed to please so I could get paid!

How did you go about getting funding for starting up?

What single thing has had the biggest impact on your business?

My art has always really paid for itself. The paper and other materials I need are at a minimum and I use the community letterpresses at the Independent Publishing Resource Center. I didn’t have studio costs at first especially when I had a full-time job. Every time I’ve made a little more money I’d take a new step such as getting a studio downtown. In the next 5 years, I may be taking the next leap, which will be having my own press set-up. I’m never in a hurry, and when the time is right and the money is there or it makes sense to borrow, I’ll move to the next step. I’m not much of a gambler, I wait until I know I can afford a change.

Recently I’ve gotten my card lines into more retail stores. When my work got picked up by the small natural food chain, New Seasons Market, I doubled my stores overnight and gained new confidence. This helped me to quit my part-time job so I could focus solely on Red Bat Press. What’s a typical day like at the Red Bat HQ? I’m learning to be disciplined and not check my email twenty times a day. I like to print for two hours from 8 am to 10 am, follow up on emails, or prep store orders until lunch; after lunch, I’ll run to the bank and post office, or pick up supplies; at the end of the day, I’ll work on a new project, update the website, or paint cards. I’ll usually end up leaving by 6 pm. I try not to work on the weekends unless I have an art sale. Right now I do it all, from printing, designing, shipping, selling and repping.

What’s been the hardest hurdle to jump as an indie business owner? Confidence. When I first made a wood-cut design, I would need to ask at least 3 people to give me feedback. Now I can make a print and if I like it, I’ll sell it. Not every design I make needs to be a best seller— as long as I’m amused by it, then I print it.

So at this point you’re mostly making mailable art: cards, calendars, other small printed items... any plans for books? I’d love to do a book, and many ideas pop in my head— animals on bikes, or a story about Portland, Oregon. However, if I ever do a book, I want it done well, and it will take time. I’m not ready to take that kind of time off, and I’m still very content making the art postcards and holiday novelties. But in time, there will be some kind of publication. Any words of wisdom for other indie start-ups? Talk and network with everyone and anyone. If you are into publishing get to know the Independent Publishing Resource Center [IPRC. org]. Also if you want to get official, the Small Business Association offers mentors. What’s your best-selling print? What’s your personal favorite? Bunny on a Bike is a classic. Also Everybody Bike has been extremely popular. I didn’t like that one personally until recently and planned to retire it— but now I love it and will keep printing it. I really love Sea Monkey. It took me ages to get the original drawing for it right, but I think I got it. Any big projects coming down the pipe? Always, always… I’m hoping to do a small stationary line, and I hope to create more bike-themed and Portland scene art postcards. Also, every year I create a new calendar card. If you had 48 hours to every day, what other kind of interests (or adventures) would you pursue? Go bike touring and camping. I discovered just over a year ago how far one can go by bicycle… the sounds, smells, views. The bad: dead road kill. The good: stopping to eat blackberries. Plus, it’s such an inexpensive way to travel. So, if I had more time, I’d definitely be off on my bike, but I’d always come back, because Portland is home. ¤

Brenda Edin

Business as Relationship

The ultimate question for me, besides the obvious one of financial stability, is: does this venture offer me the chance to grow and truly become the best person I can be?

Like any relationship, the marriage of sole-proprietorship and business has a number of difficulties that are likely never to be resolved to perfection. Does that inescapable knowledge keep people from falling in love, from venturing into business? Not in my world. It seems not in the lives of many, as people have been pairing off and wading the waters of entrepreneurship from the beginning of time. The questions here are not whether people do or don’t, but whether or not they can sustain themselves within a flourishing relationship. I remember a colleague once telling me that a spouse “should be someone who can celebrate your success without jealousy, someone who will brush off your back when you fall on your ass, then gently remind you why you’re trying.” I’ve adopted his take on relationships. It seems wise to me that one should surround themselves with people who are for them. Wise also to seek out environments where a person has the opportunity to genuinely discover personal greatness. With this focus, life questions become less about zeroing in on idiosyncratic behavior and less than ideal circumstances, more about focusing on self-improvement and creating a generous existence. As I interact with the difficulties of owning my own business, the day-to-day frustrations take a backseat to the bigger picture. I am pressed to ask myself if this relationship— this business— creates an environment where I can be nudged into discovering an internal place of thriving. Does it challenge me to learn new things? Does it offer me the ability to make mistakes as I explore my talents? Am I encouraged to find value in myself as I nurture and develop something significant? At the end of the day am I left feeling energized, knowing my contributions are worthwhile and well received? The ultimate question for me, besides the obvious one of financial stability, is: does this venture offer me the chance to grow and truly become the best person I can be? Like the journey of discovering the perfect mate, it’s a glorious thing to be able to say yes. ¤ Brenda Edin is the proprietor Tour De Crêpes. (tourdecrepes.com)

Talkin’ to the Boss Lady: Deb Dormody

If’n Books

Where did the name “If'n Books” come from? LAB: How did you get into bookbinding? If I knew how many times I would have to repeat it on the phone, I may have chosen Ace Books instead. The apostrophe always gets ‘em. I get mail for ISM Books too. Anyway, I was reading Faulkner’s As I Lay Dying and I liked the southern vernacular of saying something like “If’n you wanna make a good coffin…” If’n felt like it had an openness to it that I appreciated, but it’s also a little tweaked.

DD: It was a cold, dark night in the brickyard… My terrific public high school art teacher, Wendy Thornley, had us make a simple Japanese stab-bound book. The form made so much sense to me, I immediately identified with it. I went home and started taking apart dictionaries and encyclopedias to examine how they were made. I made some pretty terrible books in the beginning, but learned a lot as I tried it out. I went on to a liberal arts college and majored in visual art and worked on bookbinding there. I took some classes at the Maine College of Art when I lived in Portland (cold!), and also honed my skills with a master binder in Connecticut. It’s a bit of a ramshackle foundation, but a pretty good one nonetheless.

What's your favorite part of the bookmaking process? My most enjoyable task is folding signatures. I can get a lot of scheming done while performing this relatively mindless activity and at the same time take great pride in my spectacular folding ability. There is actually a specific technique to get perfect folds.

Which of the following terms would you answer to: a) bookbinder b) book artist c) bookmaker c) One Who Makes Books d) One Who Perseveres In A Fine Craft Despite The Fierce Competition from Cheap Inferior Machine-Made Products e) none of the above; I'm a ninja and my binding technique is unstoppable

What have been some of your influences? Pee-Wee’s Playhouse, Providence, Joseph Cornell, Jan Svankmajer, the library, DIY ethics, quiet time, affordable rent, the act of worrying, Wes Anderson movies, Lynda Barry’s dialogue, the Harlem Globetrotters, Catcher in the Rye, good snacks, old books, and my illustrator collaborators: Jen Corace, Alec Thibodeau (who doubles as my honey), & Jesse LeDoux.

I’d have to say: f ) Boss Lady.

What have been some of the jobs or projects you've worked on in the past, and how did they influence what you're doing now?

What have been some of the toughest hurdles along the way? And how did you, err, hurdle them?

I was part of a project a few years ago called Reversing Vandalism. The San Francisco Public Library had been the scene of a vandal’s serial destruction of books dealing primarily with homosexuality. The dude was eventually caught and charged with a hate crime. Rather than toss the cut up books, the library decided to offer them up to artists to alter and turn into artworks and exhibit them. It was pretty cool to turn a destructive act into a constructive one. It’s a good lemons-into-lemonade sort of tool to have in general: thinking about creating from limited means and how that can really be an open experience if you let it.

The money thing is definitely tough. I mostly wholesale my journals and albums and sales can vary widely from season to season. So a Net 30 account that’s late really makes a direct impact on my eating rice and beans again. I’ve totally honed how my money is spent though and limiting labor costs and prioritizing efficient methods has really helped. The web sales are doing really well now too and so I get to have rice and beans AND cake.

How did you go about gathering startup capital for If'n Books? …did you smash the piggy bank, win a beauty contest, donate blood, use money from The Day Job, have a bake sale…?

Getting the nicest sales rep in the world was tremendous. I no longer work with her, but she was terrific at helping me grow my business at a rate that was comfortable yet challenging, and she’s a true advocate for the artists with whom she works.

What event has had the single biggest impact on your business?

Visa was more than happy to shell out for me. If’n didn’t enter the world with one specific bang so I opted to charge stuff periodically rather than get a bank loan. I haven’t been creating more debt but I am still paying off the credit from the first three years.

What are some of the best/worst parts about being your own boss? Talking about the boss behind her back gets really confusing. Being ultimately responsible for every-everything is simultaneously a huge headache and totally exciting.

If you could pick one of the following, which would you choose: a) a Kingsley hot foil stamp machine I’m more in need of a working guillotine. b) a special vitamin which would make you grow an extra pair of arms My arms are already messed up, I don’t need anymore arm grief. c) a crew of magic elves that would help finish big orders (in exchange for your firstborn) Yes! Because there won’t be any firstborn so those elves are screwed! d) the ability to turn into a bonobo once a month A banana? e) a cloning machine (that only produced 1:2 scale clones) I’m pretty short to begin with so maybe that would be helpful. If it’s half the size, then see Answer C.

Random Question Ping-Pong!

What's your take on the renaissance of crafting? It seems we're seeing huge amounts of interest in knitting, stitching, sewing, jewelry making, clothes design, even letterpress and printing… but things have been slower to kindle in the realm of bookbinding… any thoughts?

Are there any resources that you'd recommend for other DIY indie start-ups?

There’s definitely been a ton of articles about the renaissance of crafting, but I don’t see it as a surprise at all that in a hugely unsteady job market that crafters would want to take financial matters into their own hands— and that customers would want to purchase items in which there lies the opportunity to meet the person who made that piece. It’s making capitalism a personal interaction— even if it’s over the internet. The rise of craft shows with a DIY aesthetic has been excellent for me. When I started doing shows 6-7 years ago, I never really fit in between the blown glass sculptures and needlepoint tapestries. It’s all about context. Now for some reason, I can sell better next to needlepoint tapestries that have skulls and crossbones stitched into them.

Kiss Off Corporate America was a good book that’s really helpful in navigating the business bank account + federal tax ID number + sales permit order of things. Taxes for Dummies is a decent way to start to be informed about crunchin’ the numbers and which ones to crunch. The switchboards online forum [theswitchboards.com] is a great place for crafty businesswomen. Any words of wisdom to pass along to the aspiring young bookbinder? Try to win the lottery if you’re not already independently wealthy. Barring that, make sure that your products are truly unique. You’re competing mostly with sweatshop prices and most customers don’t know the difference, so you have to make your books super special in order to give them reason enough to shell out. Also, don’t forget to stretch. And do your own research.

Any big projects on the horizon? New design series?

The shows are also great because they’re helping to educate consumers that our prices are not higher than big box stores because we’re trying to scam people and get stinkin’ rich— but because we sat down and made that very thing with our hands. But I’ve definitely seen the bookbinding world getting bigger. There’s usually somebody who wants to be my intern, and that’s awesome. There’s certainly more bookbinders at craft shows now. As customers, too— I can spot them because they always examine the top fore-edge (head) of a book first.

We recently filmed a demo video about how we make our books here at If’n— but really it’s pretty much just a dance party. Jo Dery and Peter Glantz are almost done editing it and then it’s going to go up on the site. I’m pretty excited about it. It makes me laugh. I just introduced some new Wood Buttonhole Stitch Albums with gorgeous maple veneer covers that I’m very pleased with. I’m also releasing an accordion photo album kit so people can make ‘em themselves for once. And in late winter, a new pocket album for the people who don’t want to make it themselves. And once Corace stops jet-setting all over the US for her solo shows, she promised a new address and day book illustration. She coined my first rule at If’n: No blood on the books. The second rule is: Don’t make the books wrong. ¤

Funny… that’s what I always do: check the head. Then the hinges. Which sometimes earns me some weird looks at bookstores and thriftshops. Yeah. But to be honest, it’s definitely easier to get into a show if you’re a bookbinder than if you’re a jeweler because there’s just not as much competition. You still have to be good of course. I get jealous of jewelers once I get into a show, though. Books are freakin’ heavy. My vision of a jeweler getting ready for a show is that they pack up all their pieces in a little tiny purse and then skip over to the show whistling Sunshine, Lollipops and Rainbows. I know plenty of jewelers, so I know that’s not true, but the thought entertains me as I haul my 60-lb cases around.

Leah Kramer, founder of Craftster.org, doesn’t walk around wearing a crown, but you can bet if she did, it would be one fantabulous crown, involving some ingenious use of clay,

Leah Kramer is

pipe cleaners, paper towel rolls, felt, and glitter. Leah also helps runs a real-world store, Magpie, and recently put out The Craftster Guide to Nifty, Thrifty, and Kitschy Crafts.

Queen of Craft

LAB: In a recent interview with The Sampler, you were asked what you wanted most, and your response was… minions! to help you with all your work. I’m curious: have you enlisted any minions yet? LK: Well, I’m unbelievably lucky— and have been for a while now— to have a team of about 25 amazing volunteer moderators helping out on Craftster. Since the website is a totally open forum with over 76,000 registered members, there’s always so much to do just to keep all the content under control. The moderators are total lifesavers. I’m still praying for the day to come when I can hire some people to take lots of other kinds work off my plate so I can focus more on the aspects I love and have to neglect, but it will come some day.

The site has, what, 75,000+ members now? What have been some of the difficulties you’ve faced in scaling the site up to its current size?

Once the site started pulling some massive traffic, how did you handle bandwidth charges? Donations? Bake sales & carwashes?

The site has over 76,000 members and it’s expanding by a couple thousand every month. As easy as Craftster was to start, the hardest thing has been dealing with the scaling issues. Even though I’m a programmer, I’d never had to deal with the kind of technical issues that come with rapid growth. I had no idea how large it would become, and even if I could have anticipated it, I wouldn’t have known how to handle it. I’ve had to learn all of that as I go along. And then the other difficulty with the size of Craftster is the sheer number of people posting content all the time— it’s a huge challenge to keep it all organized and useful. This is sort of like a microcosm of the internet in general, where there’s just so much information and it’s hard to organize it in an organic way. But this is a challenge that I actually really love.

Yeah… It was a complete surprise to me that you have to pay for bandwidth at a certain point if your website gets lots of traffic. I’d never encountered that before. At first I was adamantly opposed to showing ads on Craftster. Banner ads just left such a bad taste in my mouth whenever I would see them on other sites and I didn’t want Craftster to be seen as some sort of money-making venture. It was just a hobby and it was supposed to be a service for the good of the crafting world. So my first solution was to put up one of those “donate now” buttons and that helped for a little while. But then it became clear that sporadic donations weren’t going to cover it. So I decided to try Google AdSense text ads since they are nice and subtle with no crazy flashing “punch the monkey” going on and I liked that they actually showed ads that were often relevant to the content of the site. I was extremely apologetic about it at the time and I was afraid of a big backlash but luckily I didn’t get any complaints. I then moved up to offering banner ads but rather than joining a network that would show the aforementioned “punch the monkey” ads I decided to sell banners directly to companies related to crafts and to this day I still manage that whole process myself. I also have a system in place where people can become a “Friend of Craftster” for $12/year but it turns out that it’s an extremely small percentage of people who subscribe.

So, besides keeping Craftster running smoothly, running a bricks ‘n’ mortar store, doing various crafty projects, and writing books, what do you do with all the oodles of spare time left on your hands? What is this so-called “spare time” you speak of? You’ll have to tell me more about it… no, really, I do get an occasional slice of free time here and there. I like to read graphic novels. Recently I’ve been reading the series Y: The Last Man by Brian K. Vaughan, and I just read Chicken with Plums by Marjane Satrapi. I also rent TV series like Six Feet Under and Nip / Tuck and I devour the whole series as quickly as possible because I have no self-control and then I feel sad because they’re over and I didn’t stretch it out longer.

Sounds like some very good goals. I have to ask— has there ever been an Era of Darkness for your DIY spirit— like maybe a time when you were tempted to toss out the glue gun and go get a boring temp job? Oh man… I do have brief flashes of that from time to time, but there are so many things that I love about all the things that I do. Besides the fact that it’s all related to crafting in some way, I also really enjoy the entrepreneurial side of it all, which has actually been a total shock to discover. I don’t consider myself someone with dollar signs in my eyes who’s looking to make a buck in any way possible but instead I really enjoy— with Magpie and Craftster— that I can work my mind in a strategically business-minded kind of way and yet do some good at the same time. It’s an unbelievable amount of work and sometimes I do feel like scrapping it all and getting some totally low-stress job somewhere, but then I feel like if I did that, then I’d be consumed with ideas for some other crazy project of my own, and I’d be plagued by wishing I was doing that instead.

Now, you also run an actual real-life physical store (on planet Earth), called Magpie. Which do you find takes more of your time & resources, Craftster or Magpie? Have you ever been tempted to give up one? Man… I can only imagine the foot traffic problems if it were not on Earth! We have a hard enough time getting people to notice us since we’re just a smidge off the beaten path in a great little neighborhood called Davis Square in Somerville, Mass. Luckily word of mouth has done wonders for us. As for the time involved in Magpie, I’m lucky in that there are 5 owners altogether. We all have our “day jobs” of one sort or another and then between employees and splitting the weekend shifts between us owners, we cover all the store shifts. But more importantly for all of the non-shift-covering work, we all split that so it’s not too much work for me or any of us partners. And if one of us having a particularly busy spell in life, we can lean on others to put in a little more work. This is what I rely on when it all feels like too much. Having that many partners decreases the chances of us making any real profit from Magpie but it’s not our first and foremost goal. Our goal is really just to run a great store where you can find all kinds of amazing handmade goods and not have to shop at the mall for mass-produced gifts.

Sounds like you know yourself well enough to know that you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do. I think that kind of passion is powerful, although it can also be a source of stress, especially when it comes time to find funding for projects. What was the main source of your start-up funds? Did you smash the ol’ piggy bank, work a day job, take out a loan, auction tchotchke on ebay, win a beauty contest, pass GO and collect 200? Sadly it’s not a very interesting or entrepreneurial tale. When I decided to leave my full time programming job to run Craftster full-time, it was really a decision born out of necessity. It was just way too much work to handle Craftster and a full-time job. So I had to come up with a way to make it work financially, and I had a plan that I thought would work. It took way longer than I thought to get things working financially, and I went through all of my own savings in the process, and moved on to phase 2 which was to be totally broke and lean on my husband for several months of financial support. My husband is gainfully employed as the Art Director at a children’s media company. I’m very appreciative to have had his financial support. And he’s a great illustrator and designer, which comes in handy for things like designing Craftster swag and so forth.

The Craftster Guide to Nifty, Thrifty, and Kitschy Crafts: Fifty Fabulous Projects from the Fifties and Sixties

63 What’s a typical day like at the Craftster Castle? Do you have any ponies on the grounds? How about gold-plated automagical server racks guarded by fire-breathing dragons?

What would be your advice to the veteran Craftster To The Stars, ready to go full-time and start paying the billz with the crafty skillz: 1) the “quit your day job, pour your heart into it, and chase your dreams” method? or, 2) the “keep your job, do some moonlighting, and make sure the safety net is in place before climbing the Trapeze of Self-Employment” method? I often get asked this question in regards to giving advice to people who want to make and sell their crafts for a living. I think it’s really important to dip your toe into the world you think you want to be in before you jump in. First of all, you may not actually like doing it full time. Before Craftster came along I daydreamed about making and selling my crafts for a living and even did all kinds of projections about the financial viability of this. But then I took a hard look at how happy or unhappy I was when I was on a big crafting binge getting ready for a craft fair or making an order for store. I realized that it would actually drive me kind of crazy to spend hours making the same thing over and over and I preferred to just craft in occasional short bursts. So I think you need to test out how much you would really enjoy doing it 40+ hours per week. Perhaps take a week of vacation from your job and do nothing but crank out copies of crafts you sell. And then there’s of course the issue of whether it would work out financially which you really just have to run the numbers to see. You have to be sure to factor in covering your own health insurance and be aware that you’re going to be responsible for all kinds of bookkeeping and taxes and so forth that you may never have had to do as a part of your regular job. But I really do encourage everyone to find a way to test it out and see if it would work. Luckily, these days, it’s not hard to start your own web shop, and with sites like Etsy.com and eBay, you can easily try selling your crafts. Are there any resources you’d recommend for DIY start-ups? There’s a great online community called The Switchboards [theswitchboards.com] which is all about helping one another with craft-related business ventures. It seems to be the go-to place for this. Before going full-time with Craftster, I also took a course at my local Adult Ed center about starting your own business, which was extremely helpful. And another great resource: visit the website of your local Small Business Administration (SBA) branch and see what kinds of classes or counseling they offer or what other local organizations that can refer you to. This is often free or very inexpensive.

It’s pretty glamorous— let me tell you… I get up at 8:30am every day and fill my coffee cup and walk downstairs to my little office… aka the third bedroom in my three-bedroom apartment. I open up my trusty PowerBook and I’m magically transported to the land of Craftster with a splash of Magpie and Bazaar Bizarre wrangling when I need a break from Craftster stuff. Around 6:00pm I take a break from my work and realize that I really should change out of what I woke up in lest my husband think I’ve been in bed all day. Sounds enviable, eh? It’s funny because before I started working for myself, I imagined this blissful existence where I’d have the flexibility to pop over to my favorite thrift store or meet friends for lunch in the middle of the day on any week day. Instead I work harder and longer hours than I ever did at any job— but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. The server-protecting dragons— complete with their homemade chainmaille made of woven-together discarded soda can tabs— reside in Virginia where my dedicated server is hosted. If only I could get a little IT support from them while they’re there….

The phrase “craftster” is now in everyday urban use; in fact, it’s listed as a word on urbandictionary.com: A hip crafter. Not to be confused with decidedly uncool, grannyish crafters. Also the current title of a popular blog/forum for posting of hip craft projects (craftster.org). She knit this really cool iPod case for me, she’s a total craftster.

It seems the term has started to take on a life of its own. Well, I’ve always thought that I couldn’t possibly have been the first and only person to have come up with that term, so I definitely don’t feel any ownership to it when I see it used elsewhere. And I still wonder, when I see it, if the person using it got it from my website, or if they were clever and just coined it on the fly. I know that there are people who aren’t familiar with Craftster.org. I do love that it’s in the Urban Dictionary, though. Jenny Hart from Sublime Stitching made that entry, which is even cooler. What’s next? Perhaps I’ll wake up and find out that someone has written a Wikipedia entry for Craftster….

Craftster.org has become the poster child for the online crafting movement. Which has been going strong for the last few years. A few pundits say it’s a trend that’s bound to fade. What are your thoughts on that? Craftster has only been in existence for 3 years. But it’s a good question that you raise. I certainly don’t want it to fade out because I enjoy the challenge of keeping Craftster going. I have lots of new features in the works which will keep the ever-growing content managed so it’s always easy to get to and always easy to find crafty inspiration. So as long as I can do some great innovating in that area and as long as crafting itself doesn’t fade in popularity, it seems to me that it might continue to thrive. People sometimes ask if the popularity of this new kind of alternative crafting will die out. I’d like to think it won’t, and I have a theory to back this up. One of the reasons why I think crafting has become so popular with people who are younger (or are just nontraditionalists) is that the internet has brought so many really truly hip and original craft ideas to the forefront. People have always accepted that you can express your creativity in ways like writing, music, art, etc. Now people are able to see that crafting can be a truly cool and limitless form of self-expression. It doesn’t just conjure up images of “geese in bonnets” and “home sweet home” plaques anymore. I don’t see there being a step backwards from this new way of thinking.

Any projects coming down the pipe? I’m batting the idea around for some sort of Craftster-CON event where people can travel to meet fellow Craftsters, learn new techniques, try out interesting crafting products and tools, meet celebrities who knit— a list of which can be found here: worldknit.com/celebrityknitters.html. “Watch Russell Crowe knit!” (Just kidding about that part!) But then again, if I could get Rosey Grier to come… hmm. Other than that, I’m spending as many slices of time as I can working on programming new features for Craftster. I just love the wide-open collaborative aspect of the internet that you see at places like Wists.com, Flickr, and Wikipedia. And I’m working on some new ideas that will be geared specifically for Craftsters to be able to share ideas in more interesting ways.

Good point. I think it’s here to stay, and Amen to that. Now, the Craftster slogan is “No tea cozies without irony.” There seems to be two different camps of craftsters: those who savor the irony of doing kistchy, crafty projects (and maybe have a messier, grungier punk aesthetic), and those who sincerely enjoy crafts, such as knitting, stitching, and sewing (and who are serious about making high-quality, well-made stuff)… and then, of course, those in between. Where would you say you fall on the spectrum between those two camps? Do you think there’s any danger (not like FIRE! THE BUILDING IS BURNING DOWN! danger, but more like metaphorical danger) of crafting without any sense of irony?

If you had a choice between a cloning machine, your own private ninja bodyguard, a complete bound set of Spinnerin knitting catalogs from 1955-1968, or a thrift-shopping robot drone that would spend all day finding all kinds of sweet kitschy stuff for you, which would you pick?

On Craftster, there are people who love crafts that are kitschy or irreverent, and there are people who post more traditional craft projects, and there’s everything in between. One of the things I love about Craftster is that there’s a genuine outpouring of praise for all of these different styles. And there’s so much to be inspired by, even if the original project posted is not your taste at all. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve seen an idea that thematically didn’t speak to me, but where the underlying technique brought on a flood of new ideas for me. When I chose the name Craftster and came up with the tagline, I wanted to set a certain tone, and I envisioned the participants would be a specific kind of crafter,but I’m so happy that all kinds of crafters have flocked to the site.

Sounds good. Okay. Thanks for enduring all our nosy questions, Leah. Any final words to all the good folks out there?

Oh wow—I’m salivating at the idea of the thrift-shopping drone but I’ll have go with the cloning machine. Hands down. If I could clone a dozen of me to do all the things I want to do with Craftster, there’d be a pair of scissors and a bottle of glue in the hands of every man, woman and child on this planet. And of course one clone would comb thrift stores for me.

Live long and be crafty.

Hinric hs Matt illust ratio n:

Julie Jackson: cat-lovin cross-stitchin snark-bringin We gab with the creator of Subversive

L A B : I read somewhere that you’ve given a copy of your book to your mum. And she liked it!

Cross Stitch, Julie Jackson. When not

JJ: Yes! She’s 82, and she said, “I love your book— I keep it under my mattress!” She’s really clever. In fact, I’ve asked her to brainstorm ideas with me. She’s so hip. She comes up with some zingers.

designing naughty stitch kits, she’s posting wickedly funny snippets on

Your site says Subversive Cross Stitch started as a kind of anger management therapy when dealing with an idiot boss… could you elaborate a little bit on the “idiot boss” part…?

SnarkyMalarkey.com. Julie shares the inspiration for starting up her business:

Basically, it was another blah company trying to upgrade their website. So they hired web people and then put this idiot in charge. She had never been to Amazon.com (and this was in 2001); she once asked me to make sure the digital camera had film in it; she’d try to make changes to our site by pulling it up on her browser and trying to type over stuff. One time she couldn’t read a text document I sent her, so I went into her office and found she didn’t have text wrap on. She kept pointing to the air to the right of her monitor and asking me where the words went. It was just mind-numbing. It was kind of funny that she was so stupid, but she eventually became mean and that’s when I bailed. Mean people totally suck, there’s just no excuse.

an idiot boss suffering from a serious case of PEBKAC. Along the way, Julie gets her chakras blown, brainstorms with her 82-yr old mum, shows up in the pages of magazines like Bust and Venus, puts out a craft book, and lives happily ever after with her three cats. 65

and out running errands. I usually quit around 5:00 or 6:00. Some days I have an assistant or two, some days I’m off with my assistants drinking margaritas. I usually have a couple of very mouthy Siamese cats around, too. I try not to work at night or on weekends, but sometimes that’s hard to avoid. I draw inspiration mostly from super-creative stuff I see online. I get really excited when people get wildly creative, it fuels my fire. How did you go about starting up SCS— did you smash the piggy bank, or take out a small loan, sell cookies on rollerskates, auction an ovary…? Well, I was already freelancing as a copywriter, so my schedule was somewhat flexible. My husband and I were taking turns with 9-to-5 jobs and bringing home more freelance work while we tried to follow our bliss and launch various projects. Actually, I never set out to turn SCS into a business, but once it was discovered, people wanted a piece of it, so I quickly started offering kits. It was crazy and exciting.

What are some of the jobs you’ve had before starting SCS (Subversive Cross Stitch)? I started exploring what I wanted to do early with internships during college: first it was ad agencies and then in grad school I landed a PR internship with Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood, which was just amazing. I kind of walked in and convinced them that they needed an intern. I got to wear the Purple Panda costume and go to events with Mister McFeely, Bob Dog, and other characters. I did a lot of freelance work from home beginning in 1996. I’ve brought just enough knowledge into SCS so that I can run it alone: I’m my own tech support, secretary, CEO and creative department, but I farm out accounting and legal stuff.

What was the hardest part of starting up? Oh, there was so much gnashing of teeth and unnecessary drama in trying to make something happen when I had no idea what that something was. And there was an actual moment of epiphany,

What’s a typical day like at SCS HQ? What inspires you while you work, and keeps you fresh? I’m up and at my desk by 7:00 or 8:00 and, depending on how busy I am, I’m either at it all day or in

in Dubai’, and everything else in between— where would you set the dial? I’ve had it with the struggling part, but I have no desire to do the skyscraper thing. I’m really comfortable with my “cross stitch empire” as it is, although I always welcome growth. I’m really uncomfortable with that pseudo-fame thing, where people have heard of what you do— or have read your blog— so they just stare at you waiting for you to entertain them. I always joke that I want the fortune but not the fame. My ego just isn’t that huge. though I didn’t realize it until later. It had to do with some wacky holistic treatment that a friend was wild about, which shook up my chakras or something— at least my perspective. I basically got the message that I had to chill out, get out of my own way, and stop trying so hard. One month later SCS was born. That’s a difficult lesson: learning to get out of your own way. Okay, returning from woo-woo land: you’ve been featured in magazines like Bust & Venus; your kits have been in Urban Outfitters & Target; you’re putting out accessories with Blue Q… do you have any critics that have implied that you’re not ‘indie’ enough?

I hear you. So: ever had any clients ask you to ‘tone it down’ a little? Only the first printer I tried to hire and I’ll gladly name them: Millet the Printer, an established Dallas printing company. They actually sent me a letter, which I still have somewhere. It basically said that they refuse to print something with a four-letter word on it because it doesn’t agree with their company policy. I hope they regret it now, because I’ve printed a ton of stuff since then. They suck. Maybe we should send ‘em a copy of LAB.

Margaret Cho owns CANDY ASS— is that indie cred? I think that when the mainstream adopts “indie” as a trend, then it’s not really indie any more. I don’t get any slack for the choices I’ve made. I mean, Subversive Cross Stitch is a business, so the point is to make enough money that I can make it my work. And to feel guilty about that would just be silly. You know, a girl’s gotta work— baby needs shoes!

Yes, along with a big ol’ stitched FUCK YOU! Otherwise, wholesale clients seem to enjoy ordering over the phone so they can say things like, “We need 80

It’s true— baby does need shoes. Okay: if you were sitting at a master control panel, and there was a giant red dial that you could twist back and forth to choose anything from ‘fledgling craftster looking for link swaps’ to ‘actually paying the bills (with enough left over for stamps!)’ to ‘Giant Shiny Skyscraper HQ with helicopter pad, with Huge Cross-Stitching Factory

featuring some quotes from this administration, and they were great. You’ve shown work in some gallery shows… have you ever been tempted to head in the Fine Arts direction? The patterns I sell are meant to be very simple and easy for anyone to do. They don’t represent my most complex work. If I start to take myself that seriously, the game is over. Any projects in the pipe? Oh yeah. Don’t forget I have a 2007 wall calendar out with Chronicle, and some new products with Blue Q, including cocktail coasters. And there will be some interesting developments in the next year which I can’t yet talk about. Also, when our 20-year-old Siamese cat passes on, we’re going to get two Siamese from the same litter and name them Widowie and Paducah.

Go Fuck Yourself and 45 Pussy Got Me Dizzay.” They seem to get a real kick out of that. On some of the Blue Q products we disguised the “F” word a bit to make it safer, but we left it ‘as is’ on others. What was your inspiration for the Life Sucks, Then You Die pattern?

Any last words of wisdom to all the craftsters out there, slaving away to the early morning hours over pipe cleaners, hot glue, and glitter?

Grey days and laughing at the futility of life. You have to learn to laugh at everything life throws your way. What’s your most popular kit? Which is your personal favorite?

Nobody has the exact same angle that you do, so trust in yourself. And, as Ben Stiller says, “DO it!” ¤

Most popular: Go Fuck Yourself, followed by Truthiness. Favorite: Bite Me. Have you had any ideas for kits that you ended up not producing, just because you thought the world wasn’t ready for that jelly? I decided early on to stay away from politics, since it’s so polarizing these days (although I’d imagine I don’t have many Republican customers!) and I didn’t want Ashcroft breaking down my door and confiscating my thread. Now I have so many political quotes saved up, I may have to start a separate line. There were recently some cross stitch pieces in Vanity Fair

Too frequently the Minds of Young Moderns are polluted with Impure Reading Habits. LAB consults with Chloe Eudaly, Bookstore Proprietess & Eminent Authority on “Micro-Press” Publications, on the Topicks of Proper Reading Technique, Cultural Entrepreneurialism, the True Essence of Genius, the Vital Necessity of Being Kind, Finding a Kindred Spirit in Books, & Taking Pleasure in the Little Things.

H F

A B C

Chloe Eudaly

LAB: Reading Frenzy is going to turn, what, 13 soon? Is it showing any symptoms of puberty yet? Hair in awkward places, zits, the fear of wearing white shorts, awkward crushes on English teachers, anything like that? CE: Reading Frenzy just turned twelve. I don't know what the average life expectancy for a small business is. I'd like to think we're in our sexual prime, but we may already be over the hill. What's the backstory on the name— Reading Frenzy?

Areas Affected by Habitual Reading: a. mirthfulness b. ideality c. individuality d. conscientiousness e. hope f. self esteem g. sublimity h. human nature i. language j. bibativeness 70

I can't take credit for that one, the badge of honor goes to my ex-husband, Fred Landeen. Clearly it's a play on words, but I don't like to think about that too much, as I'm not a big fan of puns and the like. I cannot tell you how many people have suggested we use a shark wearing glasses for our logo. How dare they?! Nature's perfect killing machine would sooner bite your arm off than allow you to insult it by adding spectacles to its peerless form. I also don’t like most abbreviations or slang, so “The Frenzy” kind of turns my stomach. I even had a hard time saying “zine” out loud in the early days. Reading Frenzy (from here on to be referred to as “RF”) also has a McSweeney's Book Club… could you tell us a little bit about that? It's a sporadic but fun program. Every now and then when McSweeney’s puts out a new title, they will connect us with the author and we get to do a live chat during our book group. We have beer and pizza. It's a smart bunch— much better read than I am. So far we have read Here They Come by Yannick Murphy and Icelander by Dustin Long. Next up is The Children's Hospital by Chris Adrian.

How did you go about raising startup funds for RF— did you bust open the piggy bank, sell a kidney, work a side job…? RF was launched on a shoestring and is held together by charm, charity and chewing gum to this day. A lucky convergence of cheap rent, a car accident, and the heyday of independent publishing made it possible. I don't think I could do it again if I had to start over today. I worked a second job for the first several months, and I've actually just started another job this fall, but that's another story. What are some of the jobs/projects you've worked on in the past, and how did they influence your decision to open Portland's Mecca of MicroPress? I worked for a number of small businesses, primarily retail, including a couple of bookstores, and learned the retail ropes that way. I also contributed to a few local publications, such as Snipehunt and Art Rag in the early 90s, and was totally absorbed in alternative media and underground comics. I was a regular at the X-Ray Café, which I credit as one of the main inspirations behind Reading Frenzy. The X-Ray was the first place I event went and thought, “This place was made for me.” When I think about a lot of pivotal experiences in my youth, I realize many of them centered around creative alternative businesses— The Ooze, 2nd Ave Records, X-Ray, The Howling Frog. I’m a big proponent of the 3rd Place concept— I just don’t want mine to be Starbucks.

Top 10 Self-Published Titles (and Authors) Who Will Always Have a Place in My Heart by Chloe Eudaly ‡

What are some of the biggest obstacles RF faces? Boring stuff like profit margins, the fact that alternative media now has more mainstream outlets— you can buy Bust at the grocery store— which I don’t see as a bad thing, just a challenge when your business is based on the relative unavailability of something. Now that we’ve been around this long, I think it’s easy for customers to take us for granted. I personally can no longer be the “bartender” which has been problematic, as a lot of people come to a space like RF for the personal interaction. There’s also a risk of complacency: sticking with same old or not doing enough outreach because it seems like anyone who would care would’ve heard of it by now.

Dishwasher by Pete Jordan Crap Hound by Sean Tejaratchi Flatter! by Jaina Davis Farm Pulp by Greg Hischak Rubber Whammy by Xtina Lamb Shark Fear, Shark Awareness by Nicholas Johnson Bomb the Suburbs by Billy "Upski" Wimsatt My Evil Twin Publications by Amber Gayle and Stacy Wakefield Tales of a Punk Rock Nothing by Abram Himelstein and Jamie Schweser Eskimo by Moorea Jasso

What does the Magic Eightball say if we ask it about RF's future? Magic 8-Ball says "cannot predict now" and "ask again later." Any new projects on the horizon? I started a little publishing outfit called Show & Tell Press last year. I’ve been reissuing Crap Hound by Sean Tejaratchi, and have a number of other publishing projects on the back burner: a RF anthology, a Show & Tell Annual, a few artists’ books, possibly some of my own stuff. I’m also involved in disability advocacy and determined to bring some DIY spirit

to that world. I’d like to see zines used in that context not just as a form of creative self-expression, but also as a tool for meaningful communication and self-determination. What are some of the best/worst parts of being a proprietress? 1. Time management issues 2. Biting off more than I can chew 3. Too many distractions 4. 5. Oh, sorry. I had to go do something else. Where were we? Look at the time! There is a special thrill in owning your own time and having the ability to turn nothingness into somethingness. That feeling can get the best of you, sometimes you feel like you can do anything. Fortunately, if I don’t eat well and get a good night’s rest, I will rapidly fall apart. So, while I may be having nightmares about unfinished projects, at least I have some kind of default mechanism that keeps me in-check. How did you become addicted to books? Unlike most other addictions, reading is good for you! I suppose if you’re spending your rent money on Left Behind (but who needs a roof over their head when the Rapture comes?), that could be a problem. But really, do you know anyone who’s turned to a life of crime to satisfy their book habit (shoplifting books doesn’t count, although that is very bad)? I’ve seen hundreds of books come and go from my personal library over the years. Sometimes I’ve had to sell books to pay my rent. At one point I decided to sell every book that I owned that was available at my local library. I deeply regret that I’ve had to do things like that. A book collection over time can become such an amazing record of your life experiences, passions, whimsies, secrets and mistakes. I am currently creating an online catalog of my books at LibraryThing.com— talk about addictive!

Brain Fever Cerebral Macula Symptoms

Increased sensibilty to all sorts of impressions. Sensitive retina. The inability to put a book down, even when confronted with food & liquids. The pupil is generally contracted but not invariably so. The temper is peevish & nothing seems to soothe this irritability but motion up & down the room in the arms of a nurse. Increased animation. Hydrocephalic fever. Morbid excitement or depression. Increased flow of blood through cerebral vessels. Headaches. Delirium &monomania.

Treatment

I don’t think there’s anything wrong with being addicted to books. And there’s definitely times when I wish that I’d kept every book I’ve read, instead of perpetually passing them along. Anyway, you probably figured this question was coming at some point: have you read any good books lately?

Vigilance. Cold applications to the head. The head must be shaved, & pounded ice mixed with cold water and vinegar may be applied to the scalp. This often removes the heat & flushing & calms the excitement. Iron & cod liver oil are most often appropriate. Mental & emotional excitement should be avoided. It is vital that the quality of reading material available to the patient be of the highest order. Exercise in the open air is, as a rule, very important. Bromide of potassium is sometimes quite useful. In severe cases, Mercury may be given freely as a purgative, & bleeding may be necessary.

I recently stumbled upon a livejournal community called What Was That Book? They reunite people with the books they've lost, or read a long time ago and have forgotten the title of, as the case may be. I posted about two of my favorite YA novels from the mid-80s and almost immediately got an answer. So, I am currently reading The Rise and Fall of a Teen-age Wacko by Mary Anderson and Mirror of Danger by Pamela Sykes. Next in the reading pile: The Boy Detective Fails by Joe Meno, My Girlfriend Comes to the City and Beats Me Up by Stephen Elliott, and The Sicily Papers by Michelle Orange.

If you could be any typeface, what would you be? I'm pretty fond of Futura Bold. I've actually had dreams about imaginary typefaces, so I would probably have to pick one of my own. Something sturdy and practical, yet given to whimsy and the occasional flourish. Also, are you a genius? First of all, I think genius is overrated. You can have all the brains in the world and still be a useless human being. The first step to becoming a genius is reconciling yourself to how completely unfair life can be, that fate and destiny and karma are a load of crap, that one can be good, do good, work hard and ultimately have nothing to show for it (or maybe worse), and in the face of all that you can still find a reason to get up in the morning, take pleasure in little things, be kind to others, and enjoy living. If you have a good idea, faith in your ability, and the wherewithal to see it through, then I say you’re a genius! It’s going to take at least 10-15 years, during which time you will largely feel like an utter failure or at least a total crackpot, and then one day you’ll wake up and realize you did it. Mission accomplished. Genius. I am not a genius yet. illustration: Aaron Renier | color: Nate Beaty

Reminds me of a Bucky Fuller quote: ”I’m not a genius. I’m just a tremendous bundle of experience.” Speaking from experience, are there any resources that you'd recommend for other DIY start-ups? It’s easier to fill a need than create one. That said, maybe your idea is so brilliant and innovative that no one knew they wanted it until you made it exist! Finding a happy medium is probably your best bet. There wasn’t a single great outlet in Portland for the kind of literature I wanted to represent. I knew there was some demand, and thought through exposure we could create more. Luckily, I was right. I’ve never gotten much out of the SBA, but there are Small Business Development Centers in every state. Portland’s is awesome! I had never taken myself seriously as a business owner until I

met my advisor, Jackie. A smart advisor can adapt their knowledge and resources to your project, no matter how unusual it is, and no matter how unconventional it is you have to learn to make money and get to know your industry. It took me years to get comfortable with those two basic facts. There are also some micro-enterprise development projects going on around the country that may be worth checking into; I work with MercyCorps NW [MercyCorpsNW.org]. I sometimes use The Beehive [thebeehive.org]. They provide free online resources for starting and running your own business. I’ve also found various mentors over the years— small or at least independent business owners that I admire who are further down the line than I am. I’ve been a mentor in turn, and I’m happy to try to impart whatever useful knowledge I’ve attained. In a recent interview on KCRW’s Bookworm, Zadie Smith compared reading to the act of sitting down at a piano and playing a piece of music (written by someone else, aka, the author), with the idea that the greater your talent, the greater enjoyment you’ll get out of the piece. Basically describing reading as more of a participatory process, not just a passive process, like watching TV, where you sit and expect to be entertained. There is something uniquely fulfilling and beneficial about reading. It’s a solitary pursuit, wholly engaging, but you can take it at your own pace. It’s good for your brain in a way that other mediums are not. The Smith sentiment sounds a little grandiose to me, but I have to admit that not liking to read is a deal-breaker for me— you might as well be from another planet (and a not very interesting one at that). You definitely bring your own experience to a book, and a really good book can give you valuable insight into your own life. Second only to meeting a real life kindred spirit, for me, is discovering an understanding heart through the printed word. There is something so comforting about discovering that someone who lived hundreds of years ago shared the same concerns, sentiments, passions, and pet peeves as you. At the risk of sounding schmaltzy, a good book make me feel less alone in the world. ¤

illustration: Nate Beaty

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Say you make knitted pirate cuffs or cool resin jewelry. Your friends love your work, and you get stopped on the street and complimented all the

I started making jewelry in high school, and learned how to sew six years ago. I made lots of different kinds of bags and clothes, gave them as presents, and wore them to work and out at night. Getting complimented on something I made myself was so gratifying! I started sewing a small collection of skirts and handbags around the time that two friends of mine opened a new shop, Seaplane. They asked if I wanted to try selling any of my skirts there, and I brought four of them by on a Saturday morning. A few hours later, one had sold!

time. After the hundredth time someone wants to know where you found your postmodern charm bracelet or skull wristwarmer, it dawns on you that maybe you could sell your handmade work somewhere. How you get from making things for fun to making things to pay your rent and bills can

I now have my jewelry and skirt kits in lots of stores, and it’s hard work, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I’ve learned a lot of things the hard way, and I can tell you that the two most valuable things I’ve figured out in the last six years as a businesswoman are: 1) don’t take things personally, and 2) stay super organized. Both are much easier said than done, but believe me, they help.

be quite a process, but I can tell you that I’ve never taken a business class in my life— and if I can pull it off, I bet you can too!

Slow Months We all have them, don’t panic! Use the time your business is, um, less demanding to update your site, work on new samples and products, trade links, approach a few new stores… or just take a week off and get away from the sewing machine or letterpress. You will be busy again, so my recommendation is to enjoy the downtime while it lasts.

Cards and Tags Shop owners and customers will take you much more seriously with professional cards and tags for your work. Put your name, your business name, contact info, and website (if you have one) on your cards. Try designing them yourself, or ask a friend—I traded a pendant in exchange for mine. You can print and cut them yourself at Kinko’s, or get free ones made at Vistaprint. After you get your cards made, never, ever leave the house without them.

A second income can really help take the pressure off. I freelance as a writer and editor, and it helps a lot.

For sew-in clothing tags or custom hangtags, I highly recommend NW Tag & Label (nwtag.com). They’ll work with your own design or create something new. Once you have tags made, they’ll keep your design on file forever—very handy for reordering. They also carry stock size and washing instruction labels at very reasonable prices.

Hosting your own craft sale, or participating in one locally, is a great way to have your work for sale and get your name (and cards) out. There is usually a fee of 10%+ of sales, or $10-50 flat fee for a table, though it varies quite a bit. If you join a craft sale or show, find out the details—if you need to provide your own table, lights, and other accessories, how early to set up, etc.—well in advance. Bring your own tablecloth and displays, and plenty of change—I like to start with at least about $20 in ones and $30 in fives.

Online Sales

Shows vary a LOT, but they really help. When you sell things directly, you get a better percentage of the profit. Getting the exposure helps too, it will bring people to your site when they take your cards and check stuff out later, or call you up for a custom project. Also, if your work is tactile (like mine) it will really sparkle in real life as opposed to on a screen. Experiment with different displays and try using multilevel configurations to draw the eye.

Craft Sales

Selling your work online can transform your business. Creating a simple website, finding hosting, and creating a shopping cart are easier than ever. Services like DotEasy or Hexstream Media provide inexpensive hosting; if you sign up with PayPal, they offer a free shopping cart. If you can’t make your own site, trade for the design— that’s what I did to create mine, susanstars.com.

In the weeks before, promote the event through press releases, email, postcards, flyers, craigslist, word-of-mouth, and anything else you can think of!

Get in touch with other handmade businesses you like online to trade links. With more links to your site, you’ll have better placement on search engines, and more traffic. List your business on resources like BUST’s Girl Wide Web for maximum visibility, too.

Many shop owners or buyers stop by craft sales to scout for new vendors, so doing events like these can really increase your visibility. Plus you can usually trade for other cool handmade stuff by the end of the day…

Make sure your URL is on your tags and cards, and add it to your email signature if you like. Add an opt-in email list on your site if you want to send a periodic newsletter mentioning updates, sales, or new products.

Marketing Marketing is the aspect of business that really allows you to be creative. There are so many ways to promote your business and it’s really up to you how you choose to go about it. Here are some of the basics:

Internet Marketing

Press Releases: Press releases are written to notify the media of your business and any new products, changes, and promotions that you want them to know about and hopefully publicize. If you can find out the name of the person you want your press release to go to, you will have a better chance of it getting there. The important thing to remember while writing a press release is to be clear and concise. You want the reader to find it newsworthy, and if they want more information, they will ask you for it. For tips on writing a press release, visit www.poewar.com/articles/ releases.htm, or enter “writing press releases” in a search engine for more results.

Search Engines: Some web hosts provide free search engine submission (like ipowerweb.com). You can also do it all yourself, or pay a company to do it for you. Whichever way you choose to do it, being listed in the search engines is invaluable for every website because it allows people all over the world to find your business. Link Exchanges: Email other online businesses that have the same audience as your site and ask them if they would like to swap links with you. Exchanging links is a nice, reciprocal way to promote each other’s businesses and expose your website to new people. Also, the more sites that link to yours, the higher your search engine rankings will be.

Press Kits: Another method of getting your company and products in front of the media is putting together some press kits. Press kits are generally folders that contain press releases (one for each new product or event), images (slides, transparencies, photographs, or digital images on CD), catalogs, and fact sheets or company information. Just remember that less is more and that you want your press kits to look professional.

Word of Mouth: Word of mouth is an amazingly powerful form of advertising. Keep your customers happy and they will likely share their good experience with their friends. Pass out stickers, buttons, business cards, etc. as often as you can. Swap promotional goodies with other indie businesses to send out with orders— it’s a great way to cross-promote your businesses and reach customers who are interested in handmade items. Try to network with people you know and meet new people as much as possible. Put yourself out there and ask others to help spread the word!

Business Plans Writing a business plan is an important part of starting a new business. Why write one? I’ll give you two good reasons: 1) Creating a business plan forces you to think through all of the important aspects of running a business and decide how you are going to approach them. It lays out your vision for the business and helps you set goals on how to achieve that vision. Later, you can use the plan to help evaluate your progress. 2) You will have something to show potential investors. So what goes into a business plan? Basically: · Description of the business · Marketing · Finances · Management Visit the US Small Business Administration’s website [sba.gov] for helpful instructions on how to write one.

Trading This is the most fun thing about selling your handmade stuff—swapping it with other artists! People you meet through shows or sales usually don’t want to schlep everything home at the end of the day either, so propose a trade if you have your eye on something good. Don’t take it personally if you get turned down— we all need the money sometimes. Outside of the crafty business universe, try approaching your hairdresser, web designer, massage therapist, or favorite coffeehouse or restaurant about trading your cool stuff for their cool services.

Stores and Sales

Pricing This is a truly difficult part of the job. There are a few good ways to get started pricing your work. A standard pricing formula involves tripling your total cost of materials, which should allow you to pay yourself a fair hourly wage. Another method is to ask several friends or crafty businesspeople what they would pay. Ask shop owners their opinion, too; you can start something out at the upper end of your price range and lower it after a few weeks if it hasn’t sold yet.

Once you have perfected a few of your designs, try approaching small, independent stores you like around town. Call during slow hours (weekday afternoons are usually a good bet) and make an appointment with the manager or buyer. Bring a selection of your best-made pieces and your cards. I know this can be nerve-wracking, but be confident in your work! You’re doing the buyer a favor bringing cool stuff in; otherwise he or she would have to go out searching for inventory. If the buyer is a jerk, write off the store. But try to be open to constructive criticism/feedback; suggestions from people who look at cool stuff all day can strengthen your designs.

Consignment & Wholesale

If you offer different designs or fabric choices, a simple catalog or flip book of photos is very helpful for showing the range of your work. Name or number each piece for maximum simplicity (like Resin Ring in design #4, or Butterfly Bag in #7 denim lined with #2 red cotton). If you do oneof-a-kinds only, number or name them clearly too.

There are two ways to get paid for your work: ·Wholesale means the store will pay you outright for your pieces, either when they receive them or at net 30 terms (within 30 days of getting your merchandise and invoice). The store typically doubles your wholesale price, so you will be paid 50% of the retail price. ·Consignment means that the store will pay you for a piece after it sells,

A $3.00 sales order invoice book is invaluable here for keeping simple records of how many pieces or samples you are dropping off and how much you are selling them for. Leave one carbon copy with the shop owner and keep one for yourself. That way you’ll know for sure how many, how much, and how long they’ve been there. Check in about once a month to see how things are selling. You can also keep track of everything with Excel spreadsheets or ledger books, or use a special program like QuickBooks.

and the percentage you’ll receive will be set between 50 and 70%. There is no guarantee things will sell, of course—you may be getting things handed back to you after a few months; be prepared to trade old pieces out for new ones. Either way, you should get paid in a timely fashion. Many shops pay on either the first or fifteenth of the month for the previous month’s sales. Consigning is a little trickier than wholesaling-ask for a list of which pieces sold, so you can check it against your own records and make sure everything is in order. This is especially crucial if you are dealing with a shop in another city! Good communication is essential.

What do I do when I find the name or website of a rep I may want to work with? Do not hesitate to call reps and talk to them about your line of clothing, jewelry, etc. You must be super proactive and sometimes abnormally excited about your line to get their attention. Feel out the rep company by asking them about the lines that they represent and how many lines they represent. If you are a small company, chances are you do not want to work with a large rep group. Large rep groups tend to work with companies that mass-produce their lines, while smaller rep companies can be open to and appreciate handmade goods. If a rep initially complains about your price point (which is the wholesale price of your products) and goes on to tell you that she can find the same kind of thing made overseas for half the price, say thank you very much and hang up as fast as you can. You will have these conversations, but it is important to keep in mind that there are reps out there who only work with people who manufacture in the U.S. and who love handmade goods.

Welcome to the World of Reps! What is a Rep? A rep (aka manufacturer representative) is a salesperson working for a larger company who markets and sells products such as gifts, jewelry, or clothing (basically anything manufactured) to stores. Reps work on commission, typically 15% of each sale, in specific regions around the U.S. and the world. Most reps charge you 15% of each sale, which you pay on a monthly basis. Reps also work to sell your goods at trade shows that occur throughout the year in major cities, like New York, San Francisco, Atlanta, Dallas, and Los Angeles. You, the manufacturer, pay your rep the same 15% commission on all sales, along with a show fee, to participate in trade shows.

Once you establish that the rep may be interested in your line, you will be asked to send a catalog and samples. Depending on what you make, 1-5 items is a good amount of product to send along with a catalog that can be anywhere from 1 to 12 pages. The most important thing about your catalog is to keep it simple and visually appealing. Keep in mind that people who know nothing about your product may need to eventually use your catalog to sell your work. Follow up with reps no more than two weeks after you send your products. Ask them for feedback. Do not get discouraged if they say it may not be a good fit. Ask them immediately who they can recommend to you. All reps know other reps, and they often refer manufacturers to one another. If the rep wants to move forward, they will send you a written agreement… good luck!!!

Finding a Rep Finding a rep can be time-consuming, but the more time you put into the process, the better your chances are of finding a rep that will be a great fit for you and your business. The internet can be a good place to begin your search. Try putting “gift manufacturer rep” or “apparel manufacturer rep” into a search engine; it can yield lists of reps all over the country. Another way to search for a rep is at online sites for gift marts around the country. The California Gift Mart hosts a great site chock full of information on reps and lines that they represent in their showrooms.

Apparel Reps verses Gift Reps Think about who you want to buy your goods, or who is already buying your goods. Are you selling into clothing stores, gift stores, etc? Basically gift reps work with small gift stores around the country, while apparel reps work with clothing stores and boutiques. Thinking about who your target audience is may help you decide to work with a specific kind of rep.

A more guerilla tactic is to think about cool jewelry, clothing, or gift items that you have seen in stores that you would like to sell into as a manufacturer. You can look up the websites of many of these companies, and sometimes you luck out by finding a list of their reps around the country. If you already sell into local stores, there is a good chance that store owners will also have recommendations for reps that they like to work with who may want to represent your line. Another great way to find a rep is to attend a trade show, which gives you the chance to shop for a rep. You can check out what lines they represent and get a feel for who they are in person. Most of the time I advise just taking one of their cards and then once the craziness of the show is over, you can contact them to discuss your line.

Nightmare Reps Every manufacturer I have met has experienced at least one nightmare rep situation. Just know that you are not alone. Sometimes a rep will pick up your line as an experiment and then not sell anything. It is important to not take this personally, to immediately start looking for another rep, and to ask for your samples back. If a rep has worked with your line at a show over a four-month period without any sales, this is probably a sign that it’s time for you to break up with your rep.

Trade Shows Taxes

Being in a conference center at a trade show is a little like being on an airplane for four to five days straight with some unusually perky people. Trade shows take place throughout the year, but generally everything is backwards as far as seasons go. Stores do their Christmas buying in the summer and their summer buying in the winter. So in the dead heat of summer you can find yourself surrounded by animatronic life-size Christmas figures!

The thought of business taxes can be very intimidating. Luckily, there are a lot of resources out there to help a small business owner. And if you can’t find the answer you are looking for, or don’t want to have to deal with it, look for a good accountant. (It will save you a lot of headaches!!) Here is some very basic tax information to help get you started. For more detailed information, please visit the tax links. The type of business you own will determine the way in which you should file your taxes. Many small crafty businesses are Sole Proprietorships or Partnerships, which means the business owner(s) declares all profits and losses on his/her own tax return. For information on how to file for LLC, LLP, Corporations, and S Corporations, visit the Business Structures section on the IRS website [irs.gov/businesses/small/index.html]. It may also be necessary to pay estimated taxes for your business. Paying quarterly estimated taxes helps avoid owing penalty fees and fines on your regular tax return as a result of owing too much money in taxes.

Trade shows are a must for manufacturers already working with reps. Rep companies charge manufacturers for show space; these charges can range from $100 to upwards of $800 per show. Each manufacturer receives a space on the tradeshow floor or in the showroom during the show. It is a great idea to go to as many trade shows as possible when you are first starting off with a rep. You can show them how you describe your goods and build relationships with the reps so that they are excited about selling your goods after the show. Buyers love to meet the people who actually design the products. Often your presence will increase sales. Remember to drink a lot of water, get enough sleep, and load up on coffee.

Be sure to hang on to all of the receipts for anything you plan to deduct or write off on your tax return. An accordion file that separates receipts by month can be handy, or you may find another method that works better for you… just don’t throw anything away! I recommend consulting an accountant to find out all of the possible write-offs for business expenses. They know all the rules and can help you avoid doing anything sketchy that might get you in trouble later.

Sometimes manufacturers represent themselves at trade shows. Small local trade shows are a great place to get started, and sometimes you can share a booth with fellow crafters to cut down the costs. If you decide to buy your own trade show booth, you must enter into the experience with the idea that your company will survive if you do not make any of your money back. In other words, don’t spend tons of money on a booth, hotel and transportation if you do not have a company slush fund. The great thing about having your own space is that you have complete creative control over how you present and sell your product. You can create your very own world within a 10’ x 10’ space and sometimes make good money in the process.

Good luck, and check out PDX Super Crafty [pdxsupercrafty.com] for monthly updates on running your own business without losing your mind. You’ll find marketing tips, an advice column, and other handy resources like crafty project ideas. ¤

Helpful Links

PDX Super Crafty: pdxsupercrafty.com VistaPrint: vistaprint.com NW Tag & Label: nwtag.com Dot Easy: doteasy.com Hexstream Media: hexstream.com PayPal: paypal.com Bust Magazine’s Girl Wide Web: bust.com/girlweb/index.html Craig’s List: craigslist.org IRS Info for Small Businesses: irs.gov/businesses/small/index.html Small Business Association: sba.gov Entrepreneur Magazine: entrepreneur.com Inc Magazine: inc.com Some Annual Gift and Trade Shows: California Gift Show: californiagiftshow.com Americas Art: americasmart.com GLM Shows: glmshows.com NYI Gift Show: nyigf.com

STAR T- U P p ro f i l e

OFFICE shop + gallery

S TA R T- U P p ro f i l e :

THE STORY

OFFICE

Kelly Coller & Tony Secolo Ever wanted to quit your day job and pursue what you really love? The trick is: figuring how to make that daydream a reality. Here’s a story about Kelly & Tony, a husband-and-wife team that left behind their corporate design jobs (NBBJ, Getty Images) and moved to Portland to explore their own creative vision. Two years later, their dreams came true, in the form of OFFICE: a hybrid design store & art gallery. Here’s what you’ll find when you walk in: something like a recreated 1950s office (minus the business drab), mixed with a very smart-looking gallery, full of eye-soothing midcentury pastels, plenty of stainless steel, and fantastic displays of drool-inducing office sundries. It feels a little like a movie set. So who’s the audience? Savvy design professionals, Appreciators of Fine Stuff, and anyone who’s ever lusted after a certain red Swingline stapler. But OFFICE isn’t just another posh retail boutique… it’s a hub where designers and artists can connect with fresh ideas & new people. By organizing art shows & design-related events, OFFICE encourages the crosspollination between the art & design communities. The point? For you to leave the office feeling INSPIRED. LAB has asked Kelly & Tony to talk about why they started their own business, what keeps them motivated, and what they’ve learned along the way.

As design professionals, Tony and I were always looking for the perfect laptop case or portfolio bag. Presentation covers, unique binders, art paper, design books— we hunted these down for our design colleagues and clients. Having searched for the perfect boutique, we realized that we had not seen a place like the one we envisioned, so, in short, we decided to just create it. We put everything that we loved under one roof. One-stop-shopping, as they say. We also knew that Portland would be the perfect place for an unusual boutique to flourish— shoppers are committed to buying local and supporting indie business. The creative community was really amazing— and not being served as well as we thought it could be.

THE ST YLE Simply put, OFFICE’s aesthetic is what Tony refers to as “blue-collar mid-century modern,” where form meets function. In other words, affordable good design without pretense. That’s what OFFICE is all about. Our style references the past while remaining grounded in the present. The look is raw and refined, vintage and modern, stylish but unpretentious. Which is why when you walk into OFFICE, you’ll find a1950’s office as the backdrop for our products. We don’t sell vintage— yet.

THE INSPIR ATION Inspiration came from our obsession with everyday office objects, stellar stationary, neon signage, and the overall design sensibility of the 40’s and 50’s, combined with their modern counterparts. We were also heavily influenced by the design movement on the West Coast between the 30’s and 50’s that celebrated all design disciplines— the belief that design was for everyone, and should be accessible and affordable. This movement also believed that design had the power to help society move forward, to change and unite people… a belief we share. We are fascinated with all of the old Arts + Architecture magazines. We are inspired by everything from vintage stores to great little underground art galleries; the Jack Spade store in NY; Peter Miller’s bookstore in Seattle, and Portland’s down-to-earth, “snob-free” business community.

THE STAR T-UP Moving from concept to reality is no small challenge. Once we refined the concept of OFFICE and tested it in a few small circles, we wrote a very detailed business plan, bought the book Small Businesses for Dummies, accepted what we didn’t know (and found experts who did), set up an LLC with a great legal team, focused intently on connecting with the local press (there’s no such thing as too many press releases), and worked hard to engage our core customers in a constant dialogue. We openly share our resources— printers, designers, fabricators, you name it. No elitist secrets here.

F I N ANCING Financing was rough. We interviewed a lot of small businesses on how they raised capital; we also interviewed several banks, and the SBA. We came to the conclusion that the fastest and easiest way to get start-up funding was to do it ourselves. We sought out friends with MBAs and walked through different scenarios. Eventually, we did it with bootstrap funding: a combination of credit cards, lines of credit, savings, home equity, and a loan from Tony’s parents that in the end resulted in about $200,000 start-up funds. A year after opening, with a proven history, good credit, and amazing publicity, we refinanced everything with a great community bank (Bank of Tigard), which allowed us to get out of debt and streamline all of our payments. The fact that we had been profitable since we opened helped quite a bit, so the bank knew that our business was succeeding and would continue to grow. Part of our financial plan (and risk) was that for the first year, we would both commit to OFFICE all the way— 24/7. As part of our plan to ensure continued financial success of OFFICE, I returned back to the design world part-time, as the marketing director for a design firm that focuses on retail and graphic design called— oddly enough— Twenty Four Seven (www.twentyfour7.com). Which, of course, speaks to the fact that inspiration doesn’t punch a time clock, and good ideas happen beyond the 9-to-5 window.

DAY TO DAY On a day-to-day basis, especially from Tony’s point of view, nothing beats designing or answering to yourself. He wouldn’t trade in his “job” to be a designer for a design firm anytime— although he still does graphic design for special projects. We feel lucky and fortunate that OFFICE has been embraced by the design and art community. Every day, we get excited about hearing from our customers and what they’re doing. We’ve helped customers make portfolios and get design jobs; we provide resources and ideas for their projects. And, in return, they introduce us to new and interesting people. We’re always excited about design events— it’s a chance for us to interact with our customers. There isn’t anything we wouldn’t do for them, whether it’s making hand deliveries on the day we are closed, or working out after-hours appointments, or sending ideas to the press on cool stuff that we think should get some ink. Our next challenges: designing our own products. And search engine optimization for our website. All in all, we love Portland and I think our excitement shows. ¤

PUT TING IT ALL TOGE THER

TOP TAKE-AWAYS FROM OFFICE d o t h e m at h We

can’t

emphasize

a d ve r t i s i n g the

Don’t spend your money on a variety

importance of doing a very detailed

enough

of print ads— be focused, strategic and

business plan that clearly outlines every

use alternative ways to get the word out.

element of your concept, including

Advertising only works if your ads are there

financial projections. This allows you to

all of the time in the right publication.

test your ideas and refine them before

Focus your energy, in your first year, on

you go forward and plan for growth.

sending out press releases.

a d v i s o r y b o a rd

p re s s re l e a s e s

Admit early on that you don’t know

If you can’t do it, ask a friend to help you

everything and seek out others with

with this in trade for something you offer.

different yet complimentary specialties.

This is the key element to success, along

For us, it was asking our MBA friend to

with always thanking the press for the

help us with projections, financial reports,

opportunity, even if you don’t get ink at

and troubleshooting.

first.

partners

d e s i gn

Seek out a partner very early on— even

Every major magazine from Business

if in an advisory role. Starting your own

Week to Fast Company has been talking

business is really hard to do on your own.

about this topic for the past 5 years. Don’t

Also, Tony handles design and I handle

skimp on your design. Create a seamless,

marketing, which keeps our roles very

consistent message for your customers

separate. Additionally, seek out strategic

in design and experience. Partner with a

alliances with companies that share the

fantastic graphic designer early on. Again,

same or similar customer base.

trade if necessary.

Kelly Coller + Tony Secolo Main text & Top Ten Take-Aways: Kelly Coller Introduction & photos: Joseph Robertson

www.officepdx.com shop@officepdx.com 888. 355. SHOP (7467) 2204 NE Alberta Street Portland OR 97211 USA

funding

we b s i te

fo c u s

criticism

Go through the process of putting

Get your website up, even if it is only

Focus on your primary customer base;

Be open to criticism. It will only make your

together what the SBA wants— but if time

one page. This lets customers (and more

the others will follow. You can’t and

concept stronger in the beginning, and

is of the essence, you can do it yourself

importantly, the press) know who you are.

don’t want to be all things to all people.

help your grow your business in the right

with bootstrap funding if you have a good

Also, if you do online shopping, make it

Determine who your core customer base

direction. Keep an open mind, and talk to

business plan.

easy for your customers.

is and serve them above and beyond what

those who have been where you’re going.

they ask for.

The concept of Someday Lounge is openness and community. It is a place that is grounded in reality— what lies between the great clatter and ignorance our toxic popular culture exudes. It's what we see in fleeting glimpses through cracks of the superficial corporate facade we are forced to confront everyday. Spiritually, Someday exists between this noise. What is this space between? It is open and simple. The space is bound by two walls— boundaries that define the places that Someday lies between. Frontwards, backwards, and above, the space is boundless. What we add here is elemental and raw, organized by thoughtful minds and simple logic.

ANDY POWELL

Finding the space between

You define Someday Lounge as a space between. And the space is physically bound by two long walls; one raw, untouched brick, and one clad in a steel grill and lit from behind. In the concept narrative, you've named these two walls… what do these two walls represent? We set out at the beginning of this to create what we defined as a habitable piece of figurative art. This was something that was very important to us because of what Someday was intended to be, and what it was being created to do. The excerpt is from our last written iteration of the story we’re trying to tell with the space. The idea of betweenness first found itself in a sketch, a lot of which had to do with looking at what was already there, and then it became more clear. The more difficult part, in the poetic sense, was figuring out what these things actually were that we were between… or, should I say, what they wanted to be. We knew long, long ago, well before anything else, that we would be keeping the brick wall untouched, just as it had always been. Each brick layed by a man’s hand on a given Oregon day some 100 years ago— something like that you just can’t cover up. So, the bricks remained the bricks, and ultimately, the other wall was covered and we erected giant steel grilles in front of them with lights between. It is our rendering of the great techno-industrial monster in our midst… a concept I think we’re all starting to get a hold of— you see it in a film like The Matrix or hear it at the end of a song on the last Wilco album… or in the past, spelled out in more obscure places, like the Last Poets’ Mean Machine. It’s the machine that is always on, spinning, recording, executing, and in a way, spurring us on to do the same. There is no rest there. We called it ‘Ford’s Machine’ because the place next door is actually called “Ford’s,” and yeah, there is some humor in that. The brick wall we called ‘Old Town’, since we’re located in Old Town, Portland, and because the phrase evokes something past, something now unreachable. So, the space, you might say, is between the unattainable, romanticized past, and this unbelievably cold, unfeeling future… and it’s in this space between, somedaylounge.com rooted in the present, where we artisan squatters all gather, celebrate art, community, hope. And that’s Someday Lounge.

Someday opened to the public while still under construction. Which seems to be in keeping with its mission of transpareny & openness. A long time ago, we agreed to be a venue for PICA’s T:BA 06. It’s an amazing weeklong performance art festival, and the world standard for such an event… it was great news… all we had to do was to get our building permit and build the place. And time passed. Obstacles came, setbacks added up, revisions were requested, and so on, until 17 days before the festival we were issued our building permit. We hit the place hard, really hard. It was Ride of the Valkyries the whole time. A lot of people stepped up for us, and we worked ourselves to near death, but still, for all the valor, we were nowhere near the finish line when the week of the festival came around. But the people at PICA were unbelievably supportive and were still excited to have shows here, so they jumped into the fray and all of the sudden the doors were open, there were people here drinking, and there was a pirate-rockpuppet show going on. It was chaos, but somehow, it worked, and it allowed us to have some phenomenal shows of our own, too. The idea of transparency, of showing the process and not just the final made-up face is definitely in the spirit of the place. I don’t think anyone would have actually planned it this way, but in retrospect, it seems to have worked out quite well. Someday Lounge is described as a bar, club, lounge, a performance & arts venue. To that end, Someday has launched a program, Viva L'Arte, and is setting up equipment to stream live video feed. Can you talk a little bit about the goals of Viva L'Arte? Viva L’Arte! is our battle cry. It’s a cry to affirm why we are here, what we are here for… something to actually believe in… try it, it’s fun: VIVA L’ARTE! Yeah! Someday is, in the end, a place that celebrates art. A fundamental goal of the place is to collapse the distance between artist & audience— to give creative talent a stage that otherwise might not be offered them, and to expose this talent to those who might otherwise not have seen it. We stream all of our performances live on the Someday Lounge website, and we archive them as well. We are also building a recording studio & video editing suite to produce

CDs & DVDs of live shows. The website is going to facilitate the distribution of these things, and through all of this, vital artists can reach an audience without signing years away or compromising the integrity of their work. Any plans for installation art, or hanging work? We have in fact had an installation, just a few weeks back. Fred Thomas and Soma Wingelaar came in with their piece, Boundless/Countless. You enter into an enormous inflatable white bubble and find Fred inside making music, and meanwhile Soma, who made the bubble, controls both the amount of light and air inside. They work together, improvisationally, and create this wonderful, otherworldly experience. What have been some of the biggest difficulties during the startup phase? Getting sleep. That and having shows and doing construction simultaneously… which has been messy, to say the least. What are some of the features of the design that you're most pleased with? T h a t ’s a tough one. Even the smallest element has its own story, a half dozen different contributors and a hundred sketches and conversations that brought it into reality. Any build project is a collaborative work, but this one has been tremendously so since even the earliest days of design. Steelworkers, en-

gineers, artists, woodworkers, plumbers, concrete guys, graphic designers, photographers, homeless guys doing odd jobs, sound techs, baristas, geeks, electricians, drywall guys… We had a small army working to prepare for the PICA festival, and they really gave us everything they had, even with Jason and I stumbling around and pretending to be in charge… we’ve worked like dogs, but it’s the dedication that others have shown that really sticks in my mind. Someday is the product of an entire community of people, though you’ll never really be able to see it in a photograph. You do design + build under the name of GalloPowell (gallowpowell.com), with your partner, Jason Gallo. Your first major project together was the eco-friendly Back40 House, a guest house with rammed-earth walls, recycled roof insulation, a gray water recovery system (that waters the garden), and, to top if off— concrete floors heated with a system of water pipes warmed by active solar. Very impressive, and an ambitious first project. What were some of the principles behind the Back40 House? The Back40 was designed as my thesis project in my last year of architecture school in Tucson, AZ. Jason and I were classmates there, and when we graduated, we set out to build the place. It was a rite of passage, of sorts. Truth is, we always shared

a lot of common sensibilities, and have had a tremendous influence on mendous influence on each other. Even though the design was essentially each other. Even though the design was essentially mine, it’s as much a mine, it’s as much a product of our shared approach as anything else. The product of our shared approach as anything else. The initial seed of the initial seed of the design came from the indigenous pit house— a building design came from the indigenous pit house— a building type that dates type that dates back as far as 4,000 years around what is now Tucson. The back as far as 4,000 years around what is now Tucson. The basic principle is basic principle is to carve into the ground and use the earth you upturn to carve into the ground and use the earth you upturn to build walls. The to build walls. The resulting space is thoroughly connected to the mass of resulting space is thoroughly connected to the mass of the ground, which the ground, which helps offset the dramatic temperature swings that are helps offset the dramatic temperature swings that are the norm in the the norm in the desert. It’s also a poetic way to cultivate a connection to desert. It’s also a poetic way to cultivate a connection to the place it’s built, the place it’s built, which allows for a much more livable space… a space which allows for a much more livable space… a space you can feel. Cost you can feel. Cost was also an important factor, which we tried to offset by was also an important factor, which we tried to offset by using simple, using simple, raw materials, with minimal finishing, and by doing nearly raw materials, with minimal finishing, and by doing nearly all of the work all of the work ourselves… which, after sitting in a studio making drawourselves… which, after sitting in a studio making drawings and models ings and models for 5 years was a blast. It really felt like play time… and I for 5 years was a blast. It really felt like play time… and I guess now we’re guess now we’re just hooked. We now use the back40 as our design studio just hooked. We now use the Back40 as our design studio + clubhouse, + clubhouse, and we’ll be building our work as much as we can from here and we’ll be building our work as much as we can from here on out. on out. Why don't we see these kinds of eco-friendly + cost Why don't we see these kinds of eco-friendly features in more houses? effective features in more houses? I think the role that capitalism When the primary goal of an endeavor is simply to make money, the long plays can’t be underestimated. When the primary goal of an endeavor is term really doesn’t matter. The amount of energy a dwelling might need simply to make money, the long term really doesn’t matter. The amount to be livable doesn’t matter, nor does the health of the land around that of energy a dwelling might need to be livable doesn’t matter, nor does dwelling or of the people who may dwell in it. The attitude is: get paid and the health of the land around that dwell out of there. Go make more get out of there. Go make more money. It’s an incredibly impoverished money. It’s an incredibly impoverished way of way of being in the world, but it’s the predominant way of doing things. In other parts of the world, certainly in places that have cultural histories much deeper and older than ours, there is a much greater respect world, but it’s certainly the predominant one in these parts. In other parts for the planet and the systems that sustain life on it. It’s true that a con- of the world, certainly in places that have cultural histories much deeper sciousness is certainly expanding here, but we are a people who remain and older than ours, there is a much greater respect for the planet and the profoundly disconnected from our situation. Our planet is now on the verge of tremendous change, brought about by us, but still we do little.

Blame air conditioning, television, Paris Hilton—take your pick— but that’s not really the point. The point is that without fundamental changes in our everyday behavior, micro and macro, that awareness is generally What are the best/worst parts about doing freelance worthless. work? or being your own boss? To me, the best thing is just feeling like your work is a part of you. That mental separation that is often made between work and life is completely dissolved, and they really bec That can be rough, too though… like right now, I’ve been sleeping on the couch at my friend’s house here in Portland and working 16 or 18 hours a day for five, six months. You know, it certainly effects the relationships you have, and the ones you’d like to have. But, honestly, I can’t imagine doing it any other way. It’s a small price to pay for being able to do what you believe in. Backtracking to Someday for a moment, you describe the front as being dissolved as much as possible, stitching together the street and structure. James Howard Kunstler (author of Geography of Nowhere, Town & City) talks about the importance of creating a transition from street to sidewalk to structure, in order to calm traffic, encourage pedestrians, and facilitate community. Any thoughts on integrating street & structure? At this point, our built environment is largely a collection of separate spaces all jammed together… there’s no cohesion. So while we’re entirely acclimated to it, it is a pretty jarring thing going from one entirely different set of sensations to another by walking through a door. Like flipping channels on a television, you’re constantly having to reset yourself, which restarts the process of settling in to a situation. I think it puts you on edge, and, I suppose, makes you a bit less likely to have that thoughtful conversation or share the kind gesture with whoever you find in there. We really want Someday to be a place where you don’t have to readjust like that, but rather feel connected to where you were, and maybe, by extension, connected to where you’re going. ¤

Derek Powazek We are the media Derek’s been working the web for the last 11 years, which, in internet years (1:50), is equivalent to about 550 years. Through the centuries, Derek has helped develop online communities like Fray, Blogger, and Technorati, and he’s written a book along the way: Design for Community. In more recent history, Derek (and his partner, Heather Powazek-Champ) founded JPG magazine: a participatory publication (and online community) that takes photography on the web and puts it in ink. Derek also heads up the newly-formed 8020 Publishing, specializing in hybrid print/ web magazines. Speaking from half a millenia of experience, Derek shares his thoughts re: participatory publishing, web vs print, “user-generated content,” and how people are becoming empowered to make their own media. To quote O’Shaughnessy: We are the music-makers / and we are the dreamers of dreams.

JPG is described as a magazine for people who love imagemaking withoutJPG is described as a magazine for people who love imagemaking without attitude. Could you talk a little bit about the JPG community?attitude. Could you talk a little bit about the JPG community? JPG is devoted to a new generation of photographers. People empoweredDP: JPG is devoted to a new generation of photographers. People empowDeby ever-cheaper and more powerful digital cameras, who love photog-ered by ever-cheaper and more powerful digital cameras, who love photography. People like us, basically. Since JPG began online, our community israphy. People like us, basically. Since JPG began online, our community is spread out all over the world, and includes all ages, types, and levels of skill.spread out all over the world, and includes all ages, types, and levels of skill. And that's just the way we like it.And that's just the way we like it. Your skillset includes design, photography, & writing. Was publishing the nextYour skillset includes web & print design, photography, writing… was publogical step? Could you describe the path that led to JPG and 8020 Publishing?lishing the next logical step? Could you describe the path that led to JPG And did it have nice little zen stepping stones, or was it all twisty and brambly?and 8020 Publishing? And did it have nice little zen stepping stones, or was When I look back over my career, there are two threads. I've always lovedWhen I look back over my career, there are two threads. I've always loved publishing. I ran a newspaper in college, and still remember the smell ofpublishing. I ran a newspaper in college, and still remember the smell of fresh newsprint in the back of my VW bug. I majored in photojournalismfresh newsprint in the back of my VW bug. I majored in photojournalism and planned on a life of shooting and writing for newspapers. When theand planned on a life of shooting and writing for newspapers. When the web came along, I realized it was an amazing tool for enabling people toweb came along, I realized it was an amazing tool for enabling people connect. I spent 11 years growing websites that gave people a voice. Every-to connect. I spent 11 years growing websites that gave people a voice. thing from my own labors of love (like the fray.com personal storytellingEverything from my own labors of love (like the fray.com personal storytellcommunity (to professional gigs at places like Electric Minds, Blogger, anding community) to professional gigs at places like Electric Minds, Blogger, Technorati. I even wrote a book called Design for Community: The art ofand Technorati. I even wrote a book called Design for Community: The Art of connecting real people in virtual places, which described what I'd learned.Connecting Real People in Virtual Places, which described what I'd learned. 8020 Publishing is the marriage of those two threads. We want to put the8020 Publishing is the marriage of those two threads. We want to put the web all up in traditional publishing's grill. This is about empowering peopleweb all up in traditional publishing's grill. This is about empowering people to make the media they consume. to make the media they consume.

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What are some of the projects you've worked on in the past, and how did thoseWhat are some of the projects you've worked on in the past, and how did experiences contribute to JPG?those experiences contribute to JPG? I ran a personal storytelling site for 9 years called Fray (at fray.com - it's I ran a personal storytelling site for 9 years called Fray (at fray.com - it'son hiatus at the moment). It taught me that personal stories are the best on hiatus at the moment). It taught me that personal stories are the bestfodder for community. And that sometimes all it takes to turn a reader into fodder for community. And that sometimes all it takes to turn a reader intoa writer is the right question. And my work with blogging companies like a writer is the right question. And my work with blogging companies likeBlogger and Technorati taught me that there are millions of people out Blogger and Technorati taught me that there are millions of people outthere producing amazing stuff that mostly goes undiscovered. If only those there producing amazing stuff that mostly goes undiscovered. If only thosepeople had the tools to enter the mainstream media… people had the tools to enter the mainstream media……and now they do, it seems. In a recent JPG Letter from the Editors, you talk about the photogra-…and now they do, it seems. In a recent JPG Letter from the Editors, you talk phers who exist in the middle of the spectrum— not quite amateur, and notabout the photographers who exist in the middle of the spectrum— not quite quite professional. And now we're starting to see photographers getting atten-amateur, and not quite professional. And now we're starting to see photogration via photoblogs and sites like Flickr, and being offered shows, gigs, evenphers getting attention via photoblogs and sites like Flickr, and being offered jobs— what's your take on this? Do you have any suggestions for a phrase forshows, gigs, even jobs— what's your take on this? Do you have any suggestions that gap between pro and amateur?for a phrase for that gap between pro and amateur? There's an interesting word in the camera world: prosumer. It's used to There's an interesting word in the camera world: prosumer. It's used todescribe the cameras that are a step above the cheap consumer stuff, and describe the cameras that are a step above the cheap consumer stuff, anda step below the professional. Prosumer also describes the people who use a step below the professional. Prosumer also describes the people who usethem: somewhere in between professional and consumer. These are exactly them: somewhere in between professional and consumer. These are exactlythe people we build JPG for. Because anyone with almost any camera can the people we build JPG for. Because anyone with almostparticipate. And if their work is good, they'll get published. The online zeitgeist seems to be trending towards DIY media-making over passive content consumption; it seems folks are tired of being offered the same oldThe online zeitgeist seems to be trending towards DIY media-making over consumer fare, and they're out there inventing new flavors. The DIY spirit haspassive content consumption; it seems folks are tired of being offered the always been part of the web, but it feels like we're seeing a new level of maturity.same old consumer fare, and they're out there inventing new flavors. The DIY Simply put, media is becoming more participatory.spirit has always been part of the web, but it feels like we're starting to se Totally! We call what we do at 8020 "participant publishing." The internet Totally! We call what we do at 8020 "participant publishing." The internethas taught a new generation of people that what they have to say is every has taught a new generation of people that what they have to say is everybit as important as CNN. Everyone gets a voice. I think we've seen the last bit as important as CNN. Everyone gets a voice. I think we've seen the lastgeneration of people who are content to sit and passively consume media. gWe're also starting to see some of the above-mentioned folks get paid forWe're also starting to see some of the above-mentioned folks get paid for doing what they do. Enabling some of them to quit drudge-tastic day jobs anddoing what they do. Enabling some of them to quit drudge-tastic day jobs do what they do well full time. And still pay the bills.and do what they do well full time. And still pay the bills. Yeah, baby! Isn't that cool? Yeah, baby! Isn't that cool? The excellent part about this is that it's based on merit. Videoblogger Ze Frank has more viewers than most new NBC shows for one simple reason: he's producing better video! The fact that NBC is a giant corporation with piles of cash and Ze is one guy in Brooklyn doesn't matter. And I say: Amen!

The excellent part about this is that it's based on merit. Videoblogger Ze Frank has more viewers than most new NBC shows for one simple reason: he's producing better video! The fact that NBC is a giant corporation with piles of cash and Ze is one guy in Brooklyn doesn't matter. And I say: Amen!

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One of the stated goals of JPG is to take great online photography, and put it inOne of the stated goals of JPG is to take great online photography, and put print. Pretty straightforward. And there's something very satisfying about that,it in print. Pretty straight-forward. And there's something very satisfying because, let's face it— stuff on the web sometimes feels a little ephemeral. Doabout that, because, well, let's face it— stuff on the web sometimes feels you see a trend in taking the online material and putting it in print? Despite alla little... ephemeral. Do you see a trend towards taking the online material the pundits who have been saying (for the last decade?) that the internet wasand putting it to print? Despite all the pundits who have been saying (for going to kill the magazine, the newspaper, the book?the last decade?) that the internet was going to kill the magazine, the Yeah, isn't that cute? Look, I worked at HotWired in 1996. We were bangingYeah, isn't that cute? Look, I worked at HotWired in 1996. We were banging that "paperless future" gong louder than anyone. And I totally believed. Butthat "paperless future" gong louder than anyone. And I totally believed. something funny happened: paper didn't go away. And I never stoppedBut something funny happened: paper didn't go away. And I never stopped reading books and magazines. And neither did anyone else. The internetreading books and magazines. And neither did anyone else. The internet is not going to kill paper publishing, but it is going to force it to change.is not going to kill paper publishing, but it is going to force it to change. People used to buy almanacs to see what the average rainfall was. Isn't thatPeople used to buy almanacs to see what the average rainfall was. Isn't that quaint now? Magazines that are about current news and informationalquaint now? Magazines that are about current news and informational data are going to die. That information is better gotten digitally becausedata are going to die. That information is better gotten digitally because it's all about being current, and the internet is better at that. So we see theit's all about being current, and the internet is better at that. So we see the big general interest magazines like Time and Newsweek going downhill fast.big general interest magazines like Time and Newsweek going downhill fast. But niche publications are actually doing very well. Because they give youBut niche publications are actually doing very well. Because they give you something you can't get online: permanence (magazines don't go down), ser-something you can't get online: permanence (magazines don't go down), serendipity (flip to a page and be surprised), and an emotional connection that'sendipity (flip to a page and be surprised), and an emotional connection that's just hard to replicate on a screen. The internet has freed paper publishingjust hard to replicate on a screen. The internet has freed paper publishing from having to be about data. And I think that's great. So magazines shouldfrom having to be about data. And I think that's great. So magazines should look at what makes them special. The traditional guys don't notice, but thoselook at what makes them special. The traditional guys don't notice, but those of us who live online do. Magazines are special to us because they're rarer. of us who live online do. Magazines are special to us because they're rarer. On your blog, Just A Thought, you've talked about your dislike for the termOn your blog, Just A Thought, you've talked about your dislike for the term user-generated content. Instead, you’ve suggested the term authentic media.user-generated content. Instead, you’ve suggested the term authentic The problem with that term is a matter of audience. No self-respectingThe problem with that term is a matter of audience. No self-respecting writer would would ever say, "I generate content." Uck. That phrase waswriter would would ever say, "I generate content." Uck. That phrase was invented by the people who profit by the things people make. That's whyinvented by the people who profit by the things people make. That's why it's icky. I think it shows a huge lack of respect for the stuff people create.it's icky. I think it shows a huge lack of respect for the stuff people create. JPG has been going strong for 2+ years now. What have been some of theJPG has been going strong for 2+ years now. What have been some of the hurdles along the way? And some of the pay-offs?hurdles along the way? And some of the pay-offs? JPG started as a labor of love for my wife and I. We both had day jobs andJPG started as a labor of love for my wife and I. We both had day jobs and were doing JPG on the side, so we used a print-on-demand service calledwere doing JPG on the side, so we used a print-on-demand service called Lulu to produce the magazine. That made it easy for us, but hard on ourLulu to produce the magazine. That made it easy for us, but hard on our community. POD is expensive and twenty bucks is a lot to ask for a maga-community. POD is expensive and twenty bucks is a lot to ask for a magazine. So we decided to do what we're doing now: traditional offset printing.zine. So we decided to do what we're doing now: traditional offset printing. That way we could dramatically lower the cost of each issue. But to do that,That way we could dramatically lower the cost of each issue. But to do that, you need to print a lot. And once you have all those magazines, you haveyou need to print a lot. And once you have all those magazines, you have to move them, which means distribution and subscriptions. And, of course,to move them, which means distribution and subscriptions. And, of course, it takes a lot of money, so that means taking advertising. It's all been totallyit takes a lot of money, so that means taking advertising. It's all been totally worthwhile, but a lot of work. Still, the payoff is huge. We published almostworthwhile, but a lot of work. Still, the payoff is huge. We published almost a hundred photographers in the last issue, most of them had never beena hundred photographers in the last issue, most of them had never been in print before. These are housewives and students, blue collar and white,in print before. These are housewives and students, blue collar and white, from all over the world. That makes it all worthwhile.from all over the world. That makes it all worthwhile.

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What was the process of raising start-up funding like? Did you folks have a 5-yrWhat was the process of raising start-up funding like? Did you folks have a plan, or was it more of a leap-and-figure-it-out-later project?5-yr plan, or was it more of a leap-and-figure-it-out-later project? We were lucky. Paul, my partner in 8020, and I had a big plan for JPG,We were lucky. Paul, my partner in 8020, and I had a big plan for JPG, basically what we're doing now and more, and happened to meet Halseybasically what we're doing now and more, and happened to meet Halsey Minor. Halsey started CNET in the 90s in order to put tech magazines out ofMinor. Halsey started CNET in the 90s in order to put tech magazines out of business, but he'd come around to the same place we had: that there wasbusiness, but he'd come around to the same place we had: that there was really something special about magazines, if only they'd modernize the wayreally something special about magazines, if only they'd modernize the way they worked. He loved our idea, and invested in us, so we could start 8020they worked. He loved our idea, and invested in us, so we could start 8020 to publish JPG and, soon, more magazines.to publish JPG and, soon, more magazines. It looks like JPG is now accepting sponsors + advertisements. Was this a moveIt looks like JPG is now accepting sponsors + advertisements. Was this a to lower cover prices? JPG has also put a respectable Advertising Code of Con-move to lower cover prices? JPG has also put an respectable Advertising duct in place, which is very clear about distinguishing content from advertise-Code of Conduct in place, which is very clear about distinguishing content ment. Could you talk a little about this development?from advertisement. Could you talk a little about this development? We believe that, when the community is creating their own magazine,We believe that, when the community is creating their own magazine, you can no longer treat them like sheep. So we'll never have giant flash-you can no longer treat them like sheep. So we'll never have giant flashing punch-the-monkey ads on JPG. We can't. We'd sour the communitying punch-the-monkey ads on JPG. We can't. We'd sour the community environment and they'd leave. But we do have ads in the magazine. That'senvironment and they'd leave. But we do have ads in the magazine. That's because ads in magazines really don't bother anyone. We're looking atbecause ads in magazines really don't bother anyone. We're looking at ways to modernize the ad buying business for magazines (look for more onways to modernize the ad buying business for magazines (look for more on that soon). And there are more ways for brands to support the community.that soon). And there are more ways for brands to support the community. Our sponsored themes do that now— the next one, Embrace the Blur, isOur sponsored themes do that now— the next one, Embrace the Blur, is sponsored by Lensbabies. And at the end, they're going to give lenses tosponsored by Lensbabies. And at the end, they're going to give lenses to the published photographers. When the media is made by its participants,the published photographers. When the media is made by its participants, advertisers have to come bearing gifts.advertisers have to come bearing gifts. Any new features on the horizon? What's next for 8020 Publishing?Any new features on the horizon? What's next for 8020 Publishing? We've got a very exciting set of features coming up for JPG that will give theWe've got a very exciting set of features coming up for JPG that will give the community more ways to connect with each other and participate in thecommunity more ways to connect with each other and participate in the creation of the magazine. And we've got our second magazine scheduledcreation of the magazine. And we've got our second magazine scheduled for the first half of 2007. Woot!for the first half of 2007. Woot! Any words of wisdom for fledgling start-up publications? Any words of wisdom for fledgling start-up publications? Remember, right from the get-go, that the most valuable thing you haveRemember, right from the get-go, that the most valuable thing you have is not your technology, or your content, or your staff: it's your community.is not your technology, or your content, or your staff: it's your community. Treat them well, give them power, and make sure that everything you do isTreat them well, give them power, and make sure that everything you do is helping them, and there's no place you can't go.helping them, and there's no place you can't go. ¤

G o fo r t h a n d explore: jpgmag.com 8020publishing.com powazek.com/justathought technorati.com fray.com b l o g g e r. c o m electricminds.com

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Derek Powazek

http://www.powazek.com/2006/09/000611.html

Will Post for Money Just a Thought from 22 September 2006 about: Blogging, Internet, JPG Magazine, Technology Or: Consumer-Made Media and the Almighty Buck Jason Calacanis is the P.T. Barnum of the weblog world. Barnum took a hirsute woman and turned her into The Bearded Lady. Calacanis took something as banal as paying writers to write and turned it into An Issue That Must Be Discussed. And I'm glad, because it is. If you don't know the story, here's a recap. Calacanis sold Weblogs Inc, a network of topical blogs, to AOL for a staggering amount of money. Then he was put in charge of netscape.com, another AOL purchase, which was once the most visited site on the web but had since been micromanaged into a wasted wreck of pointless marketing nonsense. Calacanis announced that he was simply going to clone the tech news darling Digg. And then he did. The new Netscape differentiated itself from Digg in three key ways: It was uglier, it worked against its own bottoms-up process by pegging stories approved by staffers at the top of the page, and they started paying the top contributors. I'll leave the first two differentiators alone for now, as they're pretty subjective. But the payment thing captured the attention of the blogosphere, showing once again Calacanis's Barnum-like knack for drawing a crowd. Let's be frank about something: writers, all over the world, at this very moment, are getting paid to put one word in front of the other. Just because you're not getting paid to write your site, and I don't get paid to write this, doesn't mean that paying people to write is a novel thing (apologies for the pun). What makes all this worth talking about, besides the fact that it's been talked about, is that I see it as part of a larger trend, and a critical part of the new, collaborative web (that, and we discussed it this week at Knock Knock, so it's fresh in my mind). Media, more and more, is becoming participatory. Call it user-generated content, authentic media, or whatever term ultimately comes to mean talented amateurs coming together to author mediaâ&#x20AC;&#x201D; Woo! TACTAM! Will it stick? You decide! Ultimately, it's not a question of if media will be made this way in the future, it's only a question of when it will overtake traditional media. I strongly believe this, and it's one of the core reasons we started 8020 Publishing. Even if you don't agree that media will be made by its consumers in the future, there's no denying that there are more and more places to use your voice online.

derek powazek publishing authentic media

In the late 90s, every site you signed up with gave you an email address. The late 00s equivalent is the free blog. Every site asks me what I think, gives me a chance to have my say, to post, vote, and comment.

Netscape has no multi-media aspect, nor does Digg. So why does Netscape need to pay while the far more successful Digg does not? It could be that Netscape doesn't really need to pay, and this is just clever PR (in which case, score one for Calacanis, because it worked). It could also be that Calacanis was just in the mood to spend some of AOL's money, which I'd respect. That's what corporate overlords are for.

And let me just say, Amen! This is the web I've always believed in, and always wanted. It's going to raise a generation of people who expect to be able to talk back to their media. They'll look at us fogies and wonder how we could have ever stared at all those televisions and read all those newspapers with nary a chance to respond.

But I have a different theory, and it has more to do with differentiators one and two up there.

But in a mediasphere that is increasingly consumer-made, how do we consumers decide where to make media? For example, I'm writing this

Netscape is a poisoned brand. Once the darling of the web world, its fall from grace was public and powerful. For us oldtimers, Netscape's failure

on a train speeding through Denmark at sunset (romantic, eh?). When I'm done, where should I post it? My site, naturally. But I could also post it to any number of sites clamoring for my contributions. Newsvine? Vox? TypePad? LiveJournal? MySpace? Blogger? All of 'em?

was personal. It was our failure. And for the newtimers, it's just been completely off the radar. Netscape.com has been a has-been so long, why would anyone want to contribute to it if they weren't getting paid? The secret to success with consumer-generated media is that the community has to feel wanted, important, engaged, and a little in love. For it to work, participants have to feel ownership. And you generally don't feel ownership of something that pays you. When you get paid, you're the one getting owned.

The more consumer-made media there is, the more valuable our contributions become. And when that value reaches a certain level— a level I believe we're nearing— the competition among media outlets will result in some of us getting paid. That's just supply and demand.

I think it's different for JPG and Threadless because we're not paying you for participation, we're paying you for letting us make real products from your work. The difference is subtle, but important, because the participation is still rewarded by all those great humanistic rewards that are more important than money.

Netscape isn't alone in offering up the booty. Newsvine and Squidoo both promise a cut of the ad revenue generated from your pages (which feels good, until you realize how little that amounts to for most people). Threadless brags about its payout in allcaps. And, of course, 8020's newly relaunched JPG Magazine is going to pay photographers— not for contributing to the website, but for allowing us to publish their photos in the magazine.

The bottom line is, when you found a relationship on getting paid, it never goes farther than that. And the moment the money runs out, it's over. You knew what this was.

For us at JPG, the decision was simple— if we make money selling a magazine with your photos in it, you deserve some, too. But note that we're not paying people to add their photos to the website. There are lots of different kinds of payment, and we think having a stylish place to showcase your photos, while not unique on the web, is still pretty good payment for participating (and we've got other ideas on how to make it worth your while, just you wait and see).

I just hope that when that happens, the stain doesn't spread to all paid-for consumer-created media (TACTAM!), because I really do believe the time has come. The designers who give Threadless something to sell deserve the money. The photographers who give JPG Magazine something to print deserve to get paid. Maybe someday I'll even get paid to write stuff like this (hey, a guy can dream).

But as soon as a photo makes the jump out of one medium (the web) and into another (sweet, sweet print), that's a horse of a different color. In that case, your work made it through a very public screening process and came out on top, and you're letting us print it in another medium, so you deserve to be paid.

But when it comes to posting a link and writing a witty sentence, Digg's got it right: pay your contributors with respect, attention, awesome social features, and an elegant interface. Then just let your competitors spend themselves to death trying to compete. ¤

derek powazek publishing authentic media

Derek Powazek

http://www.powazek.com/2006/04/000576.html

Death to User-generated Content Just a Thought from 4 April 2006 about: Blogging, Flickr, Geek, Internet, Journalism Dear internet, Can I make a suggestion? Let's all stop using the phrase user-generated content. I'm serious. It's a despicable, terrible term. Let's deconstruct it. User: One who uses. Like, you know, a junkie. Generated: Like a generator, engine. Like, you know, a robot. Content: Something that fills a box. Like, you know, packing peanuts. So what's user-generated content? Junkies robotically filling boxes with packing peanuts. Lovely. Calling the beautiful, amazing, brilliant things people create online user-generated content is like sliding up to your lady, putting your arm around her, and whispering, "Hey baby, let's have intercourse." They're words that creepy marketeers use. They imply something to be commodified, harvested, taken advantage of. They're words I used to hear a lot while doing community consulting, and always by people who wanted to make, or save, a buck. Think about the rest of the world. Writers produce stories or articles. Authors write fiction or memoir. These are words infused with meaning and romance. Can you imagine a writer saying, I am a content provider when asked what they do? Lately the notion that the web is about user-generated content has been getting more traction. With the success of MySpace and Flickr, pundits are looking for a trend. And they've found one in this hateful phrase. But user-generated content is nothing new online. In fact, it's what the network was designed for. So let's not give in to the buzzphrase du jour. Let's use the real words. Those people posting to Amazon pages? They're writing reviews. Those folks on Flickr? They're making photographs. And if we must have an umbrella term to describe the whole shebang, I have a suggestion. Try this on for size: Authentic Media. Authentic media comes to you unfiltered by the global brands and conglomerates that have taken over the mainstream media. Authentic media is the raw, first-person narrative you can find on blogs and homepages. Authentic media is what happens when the mediators get out of the way and give the mic over to the people who actually have something to say. The best part about this phrase? It paints the rest of the mediascape as inauthentic. I can live with that. 造

derek powazek

authentic media

user-generated content

Ze Frank

freelance artists The bottom line is that you have to create. You have to create a body of work, and then you have to challenge yourself to create even more work than you’re already doing. And it can’t

thinking,

necessarily be for money, for profit. The transition from job to freelance to freelance-makinga-living… is going to involve a period of not making any money. You have to learn how to

so you

work through that. You have to find what makes life enjoyable in that space. I encourage people to somehow create a space that is viewable from the outside. I don’t care if it’s a gallery show, a poetry reading, street performance, you name it— create some kind of a

don’t have to 99

platform to share your work— and then work your ass off.

The tagline on Ze Frank’s site reads, Many have come, but I like you the best! And

user-generated content

anxiety & creativity

worst part of self-employment

many have come: ZeFrank.com, home of Ze’s videoblog, The Show, gets some-

I don’t like the term “user -generated content.” The notion is that a lot more people are making stuff, because there’s a lot of low-cost tools out there, and there’s communities being energized by that…whether it’s writing, music, or photography, whatever. And my take on it is: it’s really amazing and incredible that people are learning stuff, they’re communicating, they’re developing new languages. But the problem is that we’ve traditionally viewed the value of the activity by the content it produces… so now you have terms like “consumer-created content” and “user-generated content” and you’ve skipped over the value of the activity and the value of the learning process, and it’s just about judging the content. And if you judge this stuff against people who have spent their lives learning a craft, it’s just not gonna hold up. In the end, it’s the wrong way of judging a movement.

Different people have different connections to their emotions. Ideally, I’d be motivated purely out of joy. Anxiety is something that I’ve just sort of felt at home with for the last several years. When creating, you tend to find pockets of very intense feelings… you’re not really sure where they come from… you might even realize you subscribe to certain beliefs that aren’t all that well thought out. Anxiety, for me, is a great way to measure those places. It’s a good sign of some sort of a fracture, a space for growth. For me, in the world of videoblogging… I discovered I felt very uncomfortable exploring the obvious. There’s a deep fear in me of doing something obvious or stale. And that can be just as much of

The worst part of it is you lose a certain sense of security. You have to be willing— even at your highest level of success— to live with a certain amount of real uncertainty, whether it’s about the next month, or the next year. And there’s the awkward situation of having to be the person who has to both ask and answer the question: where do I want to be in five years?

where in the neighborhood of a million and a quarter visits per month. How To Dance Properly, in which Ze shows off some sweet dance moves (like Ride The Pony and Stir The Pot Of Love)— originally designed as an invitation to a birthday party and sent out to a dozen or so friends— put Ze’s site on the map. From there, Ze decided to focus on a series of participatory projects: When Office Supplies Attack (a call for people to send in pictures of themselves being, well, attacked by office supplies), I Knows Me Some Ugly MySpace (a contest to see who can create the ugliest MySpace page), and Earth Sandwich (two people simultaneously placing slices of bread on the ground on opposite ends of the globe). Ze’s take: “I just think it’s so neat to be able to motivate people into doing something that’s joyous and fun.“ Since we already knew that Ze Frank likes us the best, LAB decided to call him up and pick his brain about what it’s like being a freelance creative consultant. We also chatted about some other stuff, like anxiety and creativity, and we even tried dropping some fancy web jargon, like “creative content producer” and “user-generated content.” To which Ze replied— well, we should let Ze speak for himself—

On my site, I don’t filter content, I just try to create spaces for content to live and breathe in. With something like The Show, I’ll draw attention to things that I think are interesting.

a block to your creative life. But I don’t buy the tortured artist thing. I certainly don’t think depression is a prerequisite to a good creative life. Depression, for me, is not a motivator at all. Anxiety is that middle ground which motivates me. I’m sure anger works for some people. In the hierachy of emotions, I think joy and happiness are at the top of the scale. And whenever I do feel joyous, I try to find a way to express it.

best part of self-employment The uncertainty itself carries a certain amount of excitement, because you have the liberty to move in completely new directions. The ways in which you can redefine yourself allow you to keep up with your work. You’re constantly in transition, you’re constantly starting over. But you’re finding ways of connecting bits of your past to bits of your present. Skills that didn’t have a purpose five years ago— suddenly have a purpose. For me, personally, I really enjoy the fact that I have no idea what’s coming. ¤

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Posters & flyers: LAB wants ‘em. A panel of design ninjas will pick the best of the batch, and we’ll include ‘em in an upcoming issue.

Send 3 of each design (with contact info) to: 5035 NE 25th Ave Fl 1 Portland OR 97211 We can’t return the entries, so send spare copies.

Post a picture of your creation in its natural habitat to: flickr.com/groups/LAB_projects (include the following tag: LABproject03)

Poster Call

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HyperCasting HyperCasting Mark

I. The Story So Far Everything is changing. Everything has changed. Everything always changes, but at times that change is particularly pronounced and thus specifically noteworthy. For media— which is the topic du jour— this is so plainly obvious that any attempt to refer to the “before” time has an almost archeological feel, as though we must shovel carefully through layers of dirt to uncover how media worked just a few year ago. These transformations have been seismic, and singular. There is no going back. But what, exactly, has happened? The revolution we glimpsed in 1994, when the rough beast of the Web, its hour come at last, made the earth tremble, seducing and subsuming us into its ever-broadening expanse, fell back, for a brief while, into patterns more established and more familiar. We glimpsed a utopia; then a fog rose, and the vision faded. We endured half a decade of stupidity, cupidity and the slow strangulation of dreams. We longed for communion; we got DVD players delivered in under an hour. Fortunately, the network accelerates everything it embraces, and what might have taken a generation in earlier times took just five years to run its course, from Netscape to Razorfish, and the lunar crater of NASDAQ seemed to spell the final doom of all our hopes. The Web, people loudly proclaimed, was so over. Silly humans. During those first five years, we learned just how different network economics could be; not just in theory, but in practice. We learned that the essence of the digital artifact is that it exists to be copied. Like a gene in the Cambrian seas of the early Web, information was copied and recopied endlessly. John Perry Barlow’s Declaration of the Independence of Cyberspace was one of the first such objects, spread via email and website until it became nearly impossible to ignore. More recently, Cory Doctorow’s lecture on DRM for Microsoft Research— in text, Pig Latin and video versions— has been passed around like a cheap two-dollar…well, you know. Each of these digital artifacts eventually reached nearly every single individual who might find them interesting, because, as they were copied and read, forwarded and linked to, each of the human nodes in this network made a decision that this information was important enough to share. In the networked era, salience is the only significant quality of information. For that reason, it was only a matter of time until the technologies of the network would reinforce this natural tendency, and accelerate it. So even as the Web died, it was reborn. The top-down design of a hundred centralized sources of information evolved into seven hundred million peers. From each according to their ability, to each according to their need. Feeds replaced websites, and torrents replaced streams. The revolution we had fleetingly glimpsed had finally— blessedly— arrived.

<title>hyperpeople & quo; Blog Archive &r hypercasting</title>

But one man’s blessing is another’s curse.

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The network revolution presented incredible opportunities to anyone working in the media industries. Suddenly, it became possible to reach massive audiences, unbounded by proximity. But instead of reinforcing the previous structures of media ownership and information distribution, the network has consistently undermined them. Mention Craigslist to a newspaperman, and watch as the color drains from their face. Casually drop BitTorrent into a conversation with a studio executive, and observe as they choke back their rage. The network carries within it the seeds of their destruction. And they’re absolutely, utterly, completely powerless to stop it. This would be a sad story if professional media had not willingly cooperated in their own demise. The technologies of the digital era were simply too tempting to be ignored, too important to the bottom line. But the network has its own economics, and quickly overcomes or blithely ignores any attempt to subvert its innate qualities. Film studios make the majority of revenues from DVD distribution of their productions, but that same DVD, because of its essentially digital nature, can be copied and recopied endlessly, at no cost. If it is salient, it will be copied widely. That’s not just a horror story: that’s the law. And if you don’t want your film copied? Well then, you have to resort to antique production technique. Make sure it’s shot to film stock, physically edited (good luck finding an editor who prefers a Steenbeck to an Avid) and graded— with no digital intermediates— then projected in an exhibition space where every audience member has been subjected to a humiliating physical search of their bodies. If you did that, you’d kill piracy. Probably. Of course, you’d also kill your exhibition revenues. But the studios (and the record companies, and the broadcasters, and the book publishers) want to have it both ways, want the benefits of digital distribution, all the while denying the essential quality of the medium— it exists to be copied. But all of this noise about the approaching end of copyright obscures a more salient point: the barriers of distribution have utterly collapsed. Anyone can send anything to everyone, everywhere, at little or no cost. The tribulations of the largest of the professional media producers are simply the canary in the coal mine; they’re the most sensitive to the economics of a distribution system that has kept them alive and well-fed for a hundred years. Now that those economics have irrevocably changed, the entire business of professional media production is threatened.

II. Stupid is the New Black Behold: I bring tidings of the second dot-com boom. Stupid is back! That, at least, is the message from a hundred insta-pundits, on the business pages of newspapers, in blogs, and countless analysts’ reports. The entire world seemed shocked by the entirely expected purchase of video-sharing site YouTube by Google for 1.65 billion dollars. It’s a bad deal, some say, doomed to fail. It isn’t worth it. It’ll bring Google crashing back to earth with endless litigation from the copyright holders who have just been waiting for someone with deep enough pockets to sue. Feh. What most everyone overlooked— as it happened the very same day as the Google purchase— were the licensing agreements YouTube struck with Universal, Sony BMG, and CBS. Together with their earlier deal with Warner, YouTube now has a deal with every major music publisher in the world. YouTube will now figure out how to share the revenues it will be generating with Google’s advertising technology with all of the copyright holders whose materials end up on YouTube. Some pundits— most notably, Mark Cuban— have indicated that only a moron would buy You-

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Tube, because it’s widely believed that YouTube has built its business entirely upon the violation of copyright. Certainly, YouTube established its reputation with a specific piece of video owned by someone else— a digital short from NBC’s Saturday Night Live, Chronic Sunday. That video— viewed millions of times before NBC rattled its legal saber and the content was removed— introduced most users to YouTube. In the year since Chronic Sunday, YouTube has become a clearing house for the funniest bits of video content produced by other companies, from segments of The Daily Show with Jon Stewart, to South Park, to Family Guy to The Simpsons. Why has YouTube become the redistributors of these clips? Because none of the copyright holders made an effort to distribute these clips themselves. YouTube has been acting as an arbitrageur of media, equalizing an inequity in the market place— and getting very rich in the process. It may be copyright violation, but the power of the audience is far, far greater than the power of the copyright holder. YouTube could delete every clip uploaded in violation of copyright— to some degree they do— but if you have a few thousand people uploading the same clip, how do you stay ahead of that? Even YouTube itself is subject to the power of its audience. And if they become draconian in their enforcement of copyright— which is a possible outcome of the Google purchase— they will simply force the audience elsewhere, to other sites. Better by far to strike a deal with the copyright holders, so that they receive recompense for their efforts. NBC has started to distribute Saturday Night Live’s digital shorts on its own website; ABC and FOX offer full streaming versions of their programs; everyone is queuing up to sell their TV shows on iTunes. Is this a willing transition? Probably not. Minutes spent in front of the computer are minutes lost to television ratings. But if the copyright holders don’t distribute their content as widely as possible, someone else will. YouTube has proven this point beyond all argument. Cuban believes that YouTube will die without a steady stream of content uploaded in violation of copyright. But if recent history is any guide, the studios are now falling over each other in their eagerness to do a deal, and share some of that money. The simultaneity of the Google purchase and the YouTube deals with the recording industry are not accidental; they’re indicative of a great sea-change. Big media has swallowed the bitter pill, and realized that they’ve lost control of distribution. Now they’ll try to make money off of it. But Cuban makes another, and more damning point: he says that no one wants to watch the little hand-made videos which make up the vast majority of uploads to YouTube. This is the Big Lie of Big Media: if it isn’t professionally produced, the audience won’t watch it. No statement could be more mendacious, no assertion could be further from the truth. As a film producer and broadcaster, Cuban certainly hopes that audiences will always prefer professional content to amateur productions, but there’s no evidence to support this position— and rather a lot which counters it. The success of Red versus Blue, Homestar Runner, Happy Tree Friends, and The Show with Ze Frank— each of which command audiences in the hundreds of thousands to millions— prove that audiences will find the content which interests them, and share that content with their friends, using the hyperdistribution techniques enabled by the network that ensure these audiences can get what they want— from anyone, anywhere, at any time— with a minimum of difficulty. These productions lie completely outside the bounds of “professional” media; they are “amateur,” not in the sense of raw, or poorly produced, but because they have turned their back on the antique systems of distribution which previously separated the big boys from the wannabes. A perfect example of this transition can be seen in a video on YouTube by the Australian band Sick Puppies. Shot by the band’s drummer, it features a well-known character, Juan Mann, who inhabits Sydney’s Pitt Street mall, bearing a sign reading “Free Hugs.” The band befriended this unlikely character, and shot hours of video of him at work, giving free hugs to passers-by. While in Los Angeles, pursuing a recording deal, the drummer cut his footage into a three minute film, then added one the band’s song “All The Same” as a temp track. Thinking to share his work around, he uploaded the

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video to YouTube on the 26th of September, and told his friends. Who told their friends. Who told their friends. YouTube is particularly good at “viral” distribution of media— it’s the one thing they’ve gotten absolutely right— so, within three week’s time, that little hand-made video had been viewed well over three million times. Sick Puppies are now on the map; their music video has given them a worldwide fan base. A debut album on a major label— expected early next year— will complete their transformation from amateurs to professionals. Salience determines whether an audience will gather around and share media, not production values. In the time before hyperdistribution, audiences had a severely limited pool of choices, all of them professionally produced; now the gates have come down, and audiences are free to make their own choices. When placed head-to-head, can a professional production of modest salience stand up against an amateur production of great salience? Absolutely not. The audience will always select the production which speaks to them most directly. Media is a form of language, and we always favor our mother tongue. The future for YouTube lies with the amateurs, not with the professionals. Cuban misses the point entirely, assuming that the audience will behave as it always has. But this is not that audience; this is an audience which has essentially infinite choice, and has come to understand that the sharing of media is an act of production in itself— that we are all our own broadcasters. And you’d have to be a moron to miss that.

III. The Epidemiology of Cool We know why YouTube has had such an incredible string of successes; the site makes it easy to share a video with your friends, and for those friends to share that videos with their friends, and so on. The marketers call this “viral distribution,” but we know it by another and rather more prosaic name— friendship. As an inherently social species, we are constantly reinforcing the our social connections through communication. It could be an IM, a text message, an email, a phone call, or a video— it’s all the same to the enormous section of our forebrains that we use to process the intricacies of our social relationships. We share these things to tell our friends that we’re thinking of them— and, rather more competitively, to show our friends that we’re on the tip. Each of us are coolfinders (some of us do it professionally), and we each keep a little internal thermometer which measures our own cool against that of our peers. That innate drive to be recognized for our tastes has been accelerated to the speed of light by the network. Now, even as we coolfind, we are constantly inundated and challenged by the coolfinding of our peers. It’s produced a very healthy, if ultra-Darwinian, ecology of cool. Our peers are the selection pressure as we struggle to pass our memes on to the next generation. Thus far, we’ve done this on our own, with very little assistance from the wealth of computing machinery which crowds our lives. We create ad-hoc solutions for media distribution: mailing lists, websites, podcasts— each of these an attempt to spread our ideas more successfully. But they’re held together tenuously, only by our constant activity, busy bees maintaining the cells of our hive. And it’s a lot of work. We’re forced to do it— forced to run the race, lest we be overrun by the memes of others— but we’ve reached the one practical limit: time. No one has enough time in the day to keep up with all of the information we should be absorbing. We can filter ruthlessly— and perhaps miss out on something we’ll regret later— or declare email bankruptcy, like Lawrence Lessig, or just withdraw to an ever-more-specialized domain of coolfinding. And we are doing each of these things, every day, under the pressure of all this information. There’s got to be a better way. In the early years of the 19th century, farmers in western Pennsylvania kept their wagon wheels

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greased with puddles of bubbling muck that studded the countryside. Although useful, the puddles were a toxic nuisance to livestock. If the farmers could have rid their lands of these puddles, they likely would have. A half a century later, western Pennsylvania became a boomtown, built on its substantial petroleum reserves. The bubbling muck had immense value— but it had to wait for the demands of the kerosene lamp and the internal combustion engine. In the early years of the 21st century, we each generate an enormous amount of interaction data— every click on a computer, every email sent or received, every website visited, every text message, every phone call, every swipe of a credit card or loyalty card or debit card, every face-to-face interaction. None of it is recorded— or at least, it’s not recorded by any of us, for any of us (though the NSA has expressed some interest in it)— because it hasn’t been seen as valuable. It’s bubbling up through all of us, and around all of us, as we create data shadows that have grown longer and longer, resembling Jacob Marley’s lockboxes and chains, rattling throughout cyberspace. All of that information is worth more than oil, more than gold. And all of it is sadly— almost obscenely— dropped on the floor as soon as it is created. If we’re lucky, it is deleted. If we’re unlucky, someone uses it to create a digital simulacrum, and we find our identities hijacked. But in no case is this information ever exposed to us, for our own use. We’re told it has no value to us, and— so far— we’ve been stupid enough to believe it. But now, just now, economic forces are linking the persistence of our data shadows to our ability to filter the avalanche of information which characterizes life in the 21st century. Turns out this data guck is good for more than greasing the wheels of commerce. These data shadow glow with the evanescent echo of our real social networks— not the baby steps of MySpace and Friendster— but the real ground-truth interactions which reveal ourselves and our relations one to another. It is human metadata. And it is the most valuable thing we’ve got, now that there’s demand for it. YouTube records every email address you use to forward a video to a friend. It uses these, at present, to do auto-completion of addresses as you type them in. It also presents a friendly list of these addresses, to make forwarding all that much easier. What they’re not doing— at least, not visibly, and very likely not at all— is keeping any record of what I sent to whom, nor when, nor why. Yet every video forwarded through YouTube is forwarded for a reason— salience. YouTube could record those moments of salience, could use them to build a model, a data shadow, which could reinforce your own ability to make decisions about who should see what. It might even, to some degree, automate that process. When you add to this the newly emerging capabilities of analytic folksonomy— comparing a user’s tag clouds against the tag clouds of others within their social network— certain other relationships and affinities emerge. Again, these relationships can be used to improve the capability of the system to help find, filter and forward relevant videos. This is how a social network really works. It’s not about having 500 first-degree friends in MySpace. It’s about listening to your naturally occurring social network to direct, improve, and accelerate information flow. When the brand-new power of the individual as broadcaster is reified by the capabilities of computing machinery to listen to and model our interactions, the result is hypercasting. This is what media distribution in the 21st century is inevitably hurtling toward, driven by the natural selection of steadily increasing informational pressure. Hypercasting solves some lingering questions confronting us. The first and most important of these is: How will we figure out what to watch now that we’ve got a near-to-infinite set of choices? We’ll rely on the recommendation of our friends, as we always have, but now these recommendations will be backed up by a hypercasting system which will invisibly and pervasively keep track our interests, the points of interest we hold in common with our friends, our communities, our families, and our co-workers. It will not be automatic— no one really wants to see some out-ofcontrol hypercasting system deluge us with video spam— but it will be so tightly integrated into our interactive experiences that it will barely register on our perceptions. We’ll simply come to

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expect that our iPods, our Media Centers, our PSPs and our mobiles are loaded up and ready for us, with things we’re sure to find compelling. Addiction to television will soar to new highs, a new crop of amateurs— millions of them— will find successful and lucrative careers in media production, and advertisers, as always, will find a way to spread their messages. On the surface, things will look much as they do now, but everything will move at a more rapid clip. Videos will fly across the world in seconds, not days, and a global audience of a million will gather in moments. Almost accidentally, this will change news reporting forever, as citizen journalism becomes a real threat to established media companies, and their utter undoing. Shouldn’t the New York Times be subject to the same pressures as NEWS Corporation? Is YouTube the harbinger of the transition to hypercasting? The lead is theirs to lose. GooTube delivers over half of all videos seen on the Internet. They have the cash and the brainpower to transform broadcasting into hypercasting. And they have to worry about the next set of 20-somethings, in a garage, working on the Next Big Thing. Those kids, nurtured by YouTube, know just what’s wrong with it, and how to make it better. YouTube faces its own selection pressures, which will only increase as it grows exponentially and cuts content deals and just tries to keep the whole centralized mess up and running. Yet it doesn’t matter. We have seen birth and death, and thought they were different. But the death of the Web brought a new kind of life, a vitality and surefootedness suppressed during the years of MBAs and crazy business plans and IPOs. Perhaps history is repeating itself, as everyone goes wild with another case of gold fever, and we’ll lose the plot again. In that case, we should be glad of another death. Hypercasting might need to wait a few years, for a platform very much like a fully mature Democracy DTV— or something we haven’t even dreamt up. It may be that YouTube will disappoint. But that doesn’t mean anything at all. YouTube isn’t driving the evolution toward hypercasting. The audience is. And the audience— in its teeming, active, probing billions— always gets whatever it wants. That’s the first rule of show business. ¤

Mark Pesce is a Sydney-based consultant, writer, and lecturer. His consultancy, FutureSt, advises media companies in publishing and broadcasting on strategies for forward movement in an ever more fragmented and converged media marketplace.

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ReluctantKevin ProphetMofex Kevin Moffet is the author of Permanent Visitors, a collection of short stories that won the Iowa Short Fiction Award. His stories have appeared in McSweeney’s and Best American Short Stories 2006. Recently, he wrote for Funworld, reviewing rollercoasters and parks. Which term would you be most likely to use to describe yourself? a) writer b) storyteller c) novelist d) word jockey e) rollercoaster connoisseur (that’s a mouthful) f) 4th-generation Floridian g) other I’d say G. Is “reluctant prophet” too immodest? You were recently an editor/writer for FunWorld, where your job involved the riding and reviewing of massive rollercoasters, more or less, right? Did your experiences have any impact on your writing? The actual riding, not so much, but the writing about the riding probably did. Covering the same fairly ridiculous topic month after month made me prize and seek solace in my own work. After coming up with 2,000 words about the new linear induction coaster at Kings Dominion, I couldn’t wait to get back to whatever story I was working on. I imagine you get tired of talking about the rollercoaster thing... what’s the most frequently-asked question you tend to get about all things FunWorld? A lot of people ask if I can get them free tickets to amusement parks. The answer is yes.

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You published a piece in the Believer about your FunWorld adventures. Did that affect your relationship with FunWorld at all? Not really. The people who read the article seemed to have a sense of humor about it. Plus, there wasn’t much they could do. At the time, I’d already moved away from D.C. (Funworld super-headquarters) and had been demoted to “contributing editor,” which meant I was writing articles about lightning detection at waterparks and various types of sidewalk sealant. Among other things, you’ve interviewed Dolly Parton— how did that go? Interviewing Dolly Parton was, by far, the high point of my career at Funworld. I was told beforehand that I’d be allowed five minutes, but when the interview was done I realized that she’d allowed me ten. Ten! She tried so hard to answer my questions, even the stupid ones. At the end of the interview she said—I have this on tape—“Thanks, Kev. You’re a real nice guy.” She said it so definitively. As far as I’m concerned this is all that needs to be said on the subject of my personality. You’re currently serving as a lecturer at Gettysburg College. Have you gone through a phase of acclimatizing from the midway to the classroom? If things are going particularly well I tend to shout “Wheeeee!” But no, not really. What have been some of your influences? At various times in my life: my father, Rod Carew, Luis Tiant, Michael Jackson, Mark Gonzales, Flannery O’Connor, William Trevor, Joy Williams, my wife, and my son, Ellis. If you could meet any writer, dead, alive, or maybe halfway between— Donald Barthelme, maybe. I have an old reading list of his, passed on by one of his former students. I’d like to ask him a few questions about it. What’s currently on your reading list? Right now I’m reading Chris Adrian’s The Children’s Hospital, which is terrifically strange. Any big new projects on the horizon? Plans for a novel? Yeah, I’m working on a novel and, intermittently, stories and essays. I’m writing an essay right now about Tang, the powdered drink. Do you have any words of wisdom you’d like to pass along to the Young Modern American Writer?

Mr./Mrs./Ms. Young Modern American Writer, I have no words of hardwon wisdom of my own, but I can offer some secondhand advice, from Harry Crews: ninety percent of the work of writing is keeping your ass in the chair. I think he said ninety percent. It might have been seventy-five.

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`e Volunteer’s Friend Kevin Mofex

ate is at the hospital again, watching a wall-mounted television screen, following the camera as it worms its way around the bright pink walls of his lower digestive tract. It moves quickly, forward and back, stopping on a patch of tissue for a second or two, and then off again. The nurses warned him that the camera’s progress would feel like bubbles rising and bursting in his abdomen, and indeed it does. On television his colon looks slick, enormous, almost inhabitable. He closes his eyes. The last time he was here was with his wife, Jeanne, two years ago. The antiseptic smell of an examining room is a smell he now associates with her, the velcro rip of the blood pressure cuff. He can hardly stand it. But the pain in his stomach has become too insistent, the symptoms too certain, to ignore. He’s waited long enough to know that waiting won’t fix what’s wrong with him. “There,” the doctor says. Tate opens his eyes. “What?” “A lump, a discoloration.” A tiny white plus sign appears on the television, followed by another a few inches lower, and then a third and a fourth. Four straight lines connect them and form a rectangle. Within the rectangle, Tate sees a bulging scuff mark the color of a cheap tattoo. “Right there,” the doctor says. “It could be nothing. Could be more than nothing.”

A More trips to the hospital, more tests. The doctor uses terms familiar to Tate from his wife’s illness: biopsy, colonoscopy. He drinks two gallons of liquid that tastes like charred grapes. One final test, and the nurse is making a joke about the weather. She tells him he should get dressed, which he does, slowly, before going to the doctor’s office to wait. Through the office’s curtainless window is a wooden jungle gym with a chain bridge where a young girl sits, head down, legs dangling between the slats. The doctor walks in and closes the door. Spiky-haired and young with purplish eyelids, he looks like one of those television prodigies. Tate steadies himself. The lump, the discoloration are more than nothing. “There are several courses available to the patient,” the doctor says, then corrects himself. “To you.” The worry is it spreading to his liver or his lymph nodes which, the doctor explains, pointing to his own neck, are important to his immune system. Tate wishes someone had come along to listen to the doctor for him, as he did for Jeanne. How he clung to each word then, searching for the smallest possibility of hope! He doesn’t have the energy to go through it again. He turns back to the window and the girl, whose neck, Tate sees, is covered with livid burns. The girl stands up and jumps into wet sand, wet from a heavy downpour earlier; in the examining room, the nurse said, “Thought I might have to come to work in a rowboat.” Currently, Tate realizes that the doctor is attempting to comfort him, and that he should say something. “I wish Jeanne was here,” he says. “Understandable.” The doctor probably saw Jeanne’s name somewhere in his paperwork. “I could have someone from the hospital come by your house. To talk to you. I could do that.” “No, no,” Tate says. “I’ll be all right. I shouldn’t have said that out loud.” The doctor is scribbling something in his notepad. 110

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A few weeks of treatment and Tate feels raw and worn out. He’s been fitted with a permanent catheter in his chest which makes it difficult to sleep. When he does sleep, he dreams he is contagious and has to walk around in a surgical mask, handing out cards explaining his illness. The only foods he eats regularly are bananas and toast. All else leaves him nauseous or planted on the toilet for a half-hour, or both. He brings catalogs into the bathroom and reads through them, clothing catalogs, catalogs advertising imported and hard-to-find candles. When he stands up, there are warped red marks on his thighs from where he’s rested his elbows. He receives get-well cards from the same people who sent sympathy cards two years before. One of the cards depicts a glass of wine and says, A little aging, a certain amount of mellowing…. Not long after she was diagnosed, Jeanne decided to redecorate the condo. She’d read an article saying there were two types of living spaces: healing spaces and weakening spaces. She wanted a healing space. Slowly she started getting rid of their things and refurnishing the condo in an Oriental style, searching through flea markets and junk stores for anything fitting this description. Whenever Tate tried to talk about her sickness, Jeanne changed the subject or ignored him. She didn’t want to discuss being sick or getting better, she wanted to talk about the perfect new tea table, or the limited-edition Confucius figurines. She never did get a chance to finish. Much of their old dark oak furniture remains, but now with jade plants and bamboo window shades, watercolors of flute-playing courtesans on the walls, pillows stitched with Chinese characters. A month after the funeral, a wooden abacus arrived in the mail, which Tate hung in the kitchen above the toaster oven. Now, waiting for his toast to finish, he studies the abacus, two beads in one column, five in the other. It’s one of those things that gives no hint at all as to how it works. In the kitchen, in the condo, Jeanne is everywhere visible, nowhere present. Sometimes, Tate feels like putting an ad in the paper, selling it furnished, and moving.

A One afternoon, after a pair of Leukovril injections, after the doctor had asked how he feels, Tate admits that he wouldn’t mind having somebody visit. “Understandable,” the doctor says. This is his favorite word. A few days later, a volunteer from the hospital stops by. She wears cumbersome sunglasses which she removes when Tate answers the door. She is young with far-apart blue eyes. Her name is Callie, she tells him, short for Calandra. “Very nice,” she says in the foyer, stepping out of her sandals. “Very eclectic.” They sit across from each other in the living room. He offers her a glass of water; she accepts, and insists on getting it herself. Her silver anklet makes a tiny sound when she walks away. Tate reaches down to the floor, picks up a paperclip, and pockets it. He has no idea what to say to her. When she returns she drinks the water in a single long sip. Finished, she reaches into her purse and pulls out a book called The Big Questions which, she says, she always uses when meeting with new friends. By friends, Tate understands, she means the people she volunteers to visit for the hospital. “Are you ready?” she asks, opening the book. He assumes she’ll offer something vague and impersonal. Instead she asks, “Would you be willing to tear the wings off a rare and beautiful butterfly for an all-expensepaid trip to anywhere in the world?” He thinks about it for a second, then says, “Do you mean right now? Right this minute?” “Right now.” She crosses her legs, skinny with a tanline just above the anklet. “I hand you a rare and beautiful butterfly and all you have to do is tear its wings off for 111

a trip to Paris.” “I’ve already been to Paris. Years ago with my wife, Jeanne. She was born there. Paris was about what I expected it would be.” “You can go anywhere, Tate. Africa, China. All you have to do is—” She makes a tearing gesture with the book. “I’ve never been to China. I guess I’d pick China.” “So your answer’s yes?” He tries to think about the question, but keeps stumbling on the opposing condition. What does killing a butterfly have to do with traveling? The girl is straightening the corner of the page, which has been dog-eared, looking at the page with raised eyebrows, distracted but aware of his hesitancy. “Of course not,” he says. “I’ve never enjoyed traveling alone. Plus the butterfly. No, my answer’s no.” “There’s no correct answer,” she says. “I don’t like that one. Try another.” The others are similarly baffling. “Your wife and child are bitten by a snake and you only have enough antivenom for one of them. What do you do?” The questions are intended to be thought-provoking, but mostly they confuse and depress him. The girl stays for a little over an hour. When she leaves Tate washed her glass and set it on the drying rack. From his kitchen window, he watches her get into a small black car, sit for a few minutes in the driver’s seat, and then drive off. He’s glad the hospital sent a woman, though he wishes she was older. His neighbors are nosy; if they see her leaving his condo, they’ll assume something lurid is going on. Jeanne was always cordial to them, and they think this means that Tate will be too. They’ll ask, “Do you have some family visiting or something, Tate?” hoping to surprise him into an admission. He isn’t interested in befriending his neighbors and sees no reason to pretend otherwise, especially now. If one of them asks, Tate decides he’ll say no, his family isn’t visiting. His neighbors are free to assume what they want to assume.

Callie visits twice a week. Tate learns that she went to college to study nursing, but never finished. Now she wants to be a writer, or maybe a film director. Currently, she says, she is happy volunteering at the hospital. She sees no reason to go back to college to study writing. “I want to be able to draw from a variety of experiences,” she says. “I already know what school’s like.” She talks about herself as if from a great distance looking back. Once in a while she stammers over a word—“I enjoy spending time with seer, series”—pauses, closes her eyes, and then begins the sentence again: “I enjoy spending time with serious people.” She means him. They walk to a park a few blocks from his condo. The park was once a little petting zoo with dwarf goats and alpacas where Tate used to bring his nieces and nephews when they came to town. That was a long time ago. Now, young couples sit together reading the newspaper on bedsheets in the overgrown grass. Some boys throw a frisbee. It lands in front of Tate, who hands it to Callie, who tosses it back to the teenagers. The two sit on a metal picnic table so Tate can catch his breath. The sun is a blinding smear shape, so intense that Tate, in a floppy hat that Callie insisted he wear, feels its individual rays all around him. Callie wears sunglasses, her hair pulled into two thin braids. Tate looks around for a bathroom while Callie describes the plot of a book he’s never heard of. He’s had to pee since they left the condo but is too embarrassed to tell her. A middle-aged man in oil-cloth coveralls approaches, smiling with his mouth open. “I know a woman haunts me all night long,” he sings. “I know a woman with a body won’t quit —” “Go away, Adam,” she interrupts. The man regards Tate. His shiny lips seem poised on an insult. “It’s a song,” Callie says after the man walks off. “And the coveralls, they’re just 112

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ornamental. Adam doesn’t do anything all day but creep people out and loiter.” She exhales loudly and then looks at him. “Are you okay, Tate? Are you hot?” “I’m a little warm. We should probably go back.” But when he stands, his insides constrict, and he knows he won’t make it to the condo without finding a bathroom. He looks around again and says, “I really need to use a bathroom. Soon.” Callie smiles slightly before catching herself. She lifts her sunglasses and looks around the park, at him. “Well, I believe we have no choice but to find you a nice large shrub.” She leads him to the far end of the park. The boys stop their frisbee-throwing to watch her go. They look as if they want an explanation. Behind a red-budded hedge that separates the park from a row of aluminum-sided duplexes, Tate unzips his pants and Callie stands watch over the park. He waits. He breathes deeply, tries to relax, waits some more, but nothing happens. “I don’t hear anything,” she says. “Tate? Are you having stage-fright?” She walks behind him and he fumbles with his pants, struggles to zip them up. “This is extremely common,” she says. “Listen, you need to straighten your back, relax, and breathe.” “Would you go stand where you were?” he says. “I don’t need any help with this.” “Deep breaths,” she says, backing up. “Know that I’m not the sort of person who’s passing judgment.” She begins whistling chaotically and Tate straightens his back and relaxes. Cloud wisps blow past the sun, dimming the ground behind the hedges for brief intervals. He closes his eyes and shivers. On the way home, Callie says things like, “It’s extremely common,” and, “Don’t think a thing of it.” He doesn’t want to talk about it anymore. “The man from earlier,” he says after awhile. “How do you know him?” “Adam? He’s someone I used to visit for the hospital,” she says. “He was sick.” “What happened?” “He got better.” She crosses her arms, then leans forward to wipe her mouth on her hands. “Often I have that effect on people.” Tate can’t tell whether or not she’s joking. This would be a good time to pay her a compliment or to thank her for visiting, but he can’t think of a casual-enough way to say it. He doesn’t want to scare her. Arms crossed, a half-step in front of him, she looks lost in thought. They walk back to the condo without talking.

A Slowly Tate’s appetite returns. Though he’s still worn out, especially on the days he goes to the hospital for treatment, the nausea starts to subside enough for him to eat at The Scripp’s again. When he returns from the hospital, he lies down and almost instantly sinks into a black sleep. Waking up, his eyes coming into focus on the muted watercolor of a panda bear, it takes him a second or two to figure out where he is. He puts on a nice shirt and drives to The Scripp’s, a restaurant he and Jeanne went to for forty years. Often the waiters, many of them as old as Tate, leave a second menu and place-setting across from him, out of habit. The last time he and Jeanne ate there, Jeanne, while finishing her salmon, bit into a staple, which she spat out and gave to him. Tate showed it to the waiter who returned with the chef. “I’m very sorry,” the chef said. He was fat with a neat beard. Tate expected Jeanne to shrug him off. “I want you to go into the kitchen and bring me a piece of red-velvet cake,” she said. The chef turned to the waiter. “We don’t have red-velvet cake,” the waiter said. “We’d be happy to bring you anything from our dessert menu.” Jeanne looked at Tate and sighed and smiled. “I want you,” she repeated, “to bring me a piece of red-velvet cake.” The waiter and the chef returned to the kitchen. Tate finished his dinner, ordered 113

more wine, and waited for Jeanne to make a move to leave. Probably they didn’t talk about anything while they waited. Often they didn’t. After twenty minutes, the waiter returned with a three-tiered slice of red-velvet cake with white frosting. Setting it in front of Jeanne, he said, “Please accept the restaurant’s apologies.” She stared at it for a second, then asked the waiter to put it in a box for her to take home. The waiter left with the cake. “What am I doing,” she said. At The Scripp’s, Tate waits for his dinner while reading the newspaper. The waiters quietly move from table to table, talking to diners who look as if they’ve been herded up and taken somewhere against their will. An unopened menu sits across from him. Sometimes Jeanne would order her dinner, then realize she had chosen the wrong thing and go search for the waiter. Though it annoyed him then, he misses those few silent seconds after she handed the waiter the menu, when she’d either stand up or smile contentedly at him. He misses the anticipation and release of it. Tonight, Tate orders the lamb chop and a glass of red wine. He drops his fork, then reaches over the table for the extra one. Though he never said it to Jeanne, he always assumed she’d be the one left alone after he died. Driving around town, reordering her days, making arrangements.

A Callie begins visiting his condo three, sometimes four times a week. Her water glass from the previous visit is still in the sink when she returns. On the days she stops by, Tate makes sure not to wear shorts, because his chalky knees look sepulchral. Or cardigans: they make him look too brittle and kindly. He uses the bathroom before she arrives, and pulls a comb through his thinning, colorless hair. He imagines Jeanne watching and disapproving of these preparations, and he feels slightly foolish. But he isn’t interested in examining his intentions. Being with Callie is too easy. He feels a vague air of aspiration whenever she comes over. A man from the hospital calls one morning to ask how the volunteer is working out. Tate tells him he has no complaints. “None at all?” the man asks. “Nope,” Tate says. “Would you like to think it over for a second?” “Would you like me to have a complaint?” The man lets out a brief wheeze. “Sir, this is a courtesy call to ensure our volunteers are adequately performing their duties.” At first Callie reminded Tate of Jeanne when Jeanne was younger, but he realizes that this is a false impression, invented perhaps to make him more comfortable around Callie. Jeanne at twenty-four was steady, forthright, aggressively unmysterious. Her only wile was the French accent, which diminished slightly over the years—or maybe it hadn’t diminished; maybe he’d become accustomed to it. Sometimes he has the feeling that neither of them changed at all, they just became blindly accustomed to each other, satisfied with what they knew and what they didn’t. And that Jeanne, even now, especially now, is as intimate and invisible as his nose.

A One day Callie reads him a story, about a ship-full of soldiers returning home from battle. In the beginning, two soldiers are talking about a third, who has tuberculosis. She reads so beautifully clear and unwavering that he is soon too distracted from the story to figure out what is leading to what. At the end, one of the soldiers is wrapped in a sail cloth and dumped off the stern of the boat into the sea. Sharks circle him and take quick teasing bites. “I’m so dumb,” she says when she closes the book. Her expression is grave, consoling, almost convincing. “I just remembered it being an amazing story, especially the end. I didn’t even think about the subject matter.” Tate hasn’t either. “It was lovely,” he says. “You seem so calm,” she says. “I’m speaking from experience. You don’t act like 114

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anything’s wrong.” “I’ve always been calm,” he says. “And I’ve been feeling better. The treatment seems to be working.” She nods. “Everyone agrees it’s an excellent hospital.” She’s still grave, though, the expression not yet ready to expire. “The reason I always wanted to go into nursing was because at hospitals something, you know, vital is always happening. I spend hours in the lobby of the oncology ward talking to patients. It probably sounds terrible.” “I don’t like hospitals. My wife, Jeanne,” he begins, then, seeing Callie brighten, stops himself. Something about the sudden lift of her eyebrows. “She didn’t like them either.” “You’re so unsentimental. My other friends are always wanting to confess things to me. I guess it’s a side effect from their medication. Not that I mind. I like it actually. You, though, have an even temperament. Probably you should’ve been a judge, or an airline pilot.” What sort of things do her other friends confess to her? he wonders. Sometimes she’ll draw her arms into her sleeves and cross them beneath her shirt. The first few times she did it, Tate asked if he should adjust the thermostat, but she swore she wasn’t cold. Today, she wears a brown tank-top with a pair of bleach stains, symmetrical enough to look deliberate, below her breasts. She brings her arms into the tank-top and crosses them so the tan stubs of her shoulders occupy the arm holes. She is a loudly attractive girl. “I was the vice president of a company that shipped fruit,” he says.

A The following day, she stops by unexpectedly. Tate has just returned from the hospital, and is getting ready to lie down for a nap. On the way to the living room, Callie pours herself some water, drinks it at the sink, then refills the glass. Tate waits in his reclining chair. His throat burns; his eyes feel like they’re filming over. He blinks them back into focus. On the way in, Callie ran into Mr. Stavros, who asked how she knew Tate. “I told him I was posing for a portrait you were painting. I don’t think he believed me. He sort of mumbled something and walked away.” Stavros is one of Tate’s neighbors. “He’ll probably bring it up at the next condo association meeting,” he says. The words come out like freezer-burned pellets. All he wants is to sleep. He eases the chair back a little and closes his eyes. After awhile—he may have nodded off—Callie stands up, stretches, and says, “Tate? Would you mind if I took a bath?” He finds a towel for her and sets it on top of the toilet seat. After turning on the water, she holds up a pair of ginseng bath sachets and asks, “Can I use these?” The sachets—Tate doesn’t exactly know how they work, or if they’re even intended to be used—were bought during Jeanne’s redecorating. “Of course,” he says. She starts to fiddle with her tank top. He leaves, closing the door behind him. He busies himself in the kitchen, the room of the condo farthest from the bathroom. He washes some silverware. He stands in front of the toaster waiting for two slices of raisin bread to finish. After his injections, raisin bread is still the easiest thing to eat. But raisin bread toasts quickly: if he turns his back on it for a second it’ll burn. Plus the kind he buys is swirled and topped with cinnamon, difficult under the bright orange coils to tell whether it’s done toasting, or hyperilluminated, or— Callie calls his name, twice. He raises his head from the toaster, to the wall-mounted abacus, which lists slightly, and waits. As he adjusts the abacus, she says, “Come here, Tate.” “You all right?” he calls. “No. I’m bored. Come in here and talk to me.” At the bathroom door, he listens to the faint scuffling of bathwater. “Tate,” she 115

says, “I’ve got an idea.” He remains still. Often he feels, when she is visiting, a great proprietary thrill of having this attractive girl in his house. The thought of her in his arms, though, of his old speckled hand on her skinny thigh, no matter how urgently summoned, defeats him. It is impossible. It’s comical. It makes sense that he should become aware of his body now that it is failing, but not like this. Callie calls his name again; he stands quietly at the door. He isn’t about to open it. He goes into his bedroom and lies down. Eyes closed, he imagines being dropped into a warm patch in the center of the ocean. He sinks slowly, pulled gently down into blackening water. Sealife swims out of his way below, fills the vacant trail he leaves above. By the time he lands on the ocean floor he is asleep. He wakes up to a darkened room, his head hot on his pillow, and Callie, apparently, is gone.

Stavros smokes a black cigarette by the front door of his condo when Tate returns from dinner. Thickset and facetious, he lives four units down, a brass knocker incised with his last name on the front door. “Guess who I ran into the other day,” he says. “I know, I heard,” Tate says, reaching into his pocket for his house key. “She’s a volunteer from the hospital.” He’s disappointed by how quickly he surrenders this to Stavros, who exhales incredulously. Tate hasn’t told his neighbors he’s sick but somehow, all at once, they found out. Their persistence, their hungry concern: his neighbors are like birds. “She’s sharp,” Stavros says. “I bet she makes very interesting conversation.” “She wants to be a writer.” Stavros laughs. Just his shoulders shake. “It will never happen,” he says. “She’s too concerned with the effect she is having to be a writer. But I’m sure she’ll make stories everywhere she goes.” “What do you know. You’ve barely spoken to her.” “I watch her get out of her car,” Stavros says. “Maybe she wants to make a story with you.” Tate continues on to his condo. The cigarette smoke, mixed with the taste of his dinner, leaves him nauseous. “You don’t look so good,” Stavros calls. “Are you feeling okay?” Inside, Tate washes his face at the bathroom mirror. Stavros is right: his face looks ransacked, topped by a few perfunctory wisps of hair. He feels as if he’s being prepared; in a few weeks he’ll be perfectly bald. Without hair, he can’t look at his reflection without thinking: skull. Jeanne started wearing a wig before beginning chemotherapy. It matched her dyed auburn hair so well that for days Tate didn’t know she wore it, until one late night he saw it sitting on the floor next to her nightstand. How diffidently she died! She walked around the condo watering jade plants before she went to the hospital the final time. When people asked how she was feeling, she’d say, “Fine. You?” Her only indulgence was insisting on a piece of red-velvet cake, which sat three days in the refrigerator before Tate threw it away. Her wig is still in their bedroom closet, pinned to a faceless styrofoam head.

A Over the next few weeks, the nausea returns and he notices he’s losing weight. One afternoon, after waking up from a nap with a tearing sensation in his abdomen, he goes into the bathroom and coughs up a warm clot of blood, which lands below the rim of the sink, trembles, and releases a single pinkish strand of fluid. In the lobby of the oncology ward, Tate flips through a business magazine, stopping on an article about a man who retired from a law firm, invested wisely, and became a 116

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famous yachtsman. He remembers what Callie said about hanging out in the oncology ward, and he looks around for her: twenty or so men and women, most of them older than him and staring at a television with its sound off. Callie hasn’t been to the condo in more than a month, since the day of her bath. He left a message at her house and thought about calling the hospital but he didn’t want to get her in trouble. He decided that his hesitancy to go into the bathroom reflected poorly on him, that his prudishness revealed his shameful intentions. Either that, or she’s embarrassed she’d asked. The lobby smells like carpet, coffee, hairspray. His arms are numb; he can taste his fillings. He wants to lay his head in the lap of the old woman next to him. She is gripping a metal walker with one hand and digging into her hive-shaped pocketbook with the other. Stuck to the crossbar of the walker is a rectangular address label. He looks down at his own lap and sees that he’s squeezing the magazine so hard he’s crumpled a picture of the famous yachtsman. The spiky-haired doctor recommends a CT scan. In the tomography room a nurse unattaches the catheter from Tate’s chest. He lies on a skinny vinyl table and is inserted into the scanner with his head sticking out. Orange dye drips slowly from a bottom-heavy bag. From behind him the nurse says, “Breathe deep. Okay don’t breathe.” Soon he feels a lukewarm surge beginning in his forehead and ending in his lap, and he’s sure he’s peed himself. He tries to remember what pants he has on. The nurse says, “You might be feeling something warm right now. It’s the contrast moving through.” A week later, he sits on an examination table above which hangs a bumper sticker that says ♥ Your Phlebotomist. The doctor comes in and looks at Tate, sits down, and looks at him again. He has a clipped smudge of a mustache. “It’s such a stubborn disease,” he says. “We’ll want to modify our approach.” The cancer has spread to Tate’s lymph nodes, which are important, the doctor reminds him, to his immune system. By modify our approach the doctor means Tate coming to the hospital early the next morning to have his lymph nodes and a larger section of his colon removed through his abdomen. He tells Tate not to eat anything for sixteen hours before the surgery. He looks at his watch. “That gives you about seven minutes to run to the snack machine for a Snicker’s.” Tate hates the man for saying Snicker’s. He stays where he is while the doctor nods some more. “From here it gets more difficult,” the man says. “You probably remember from your wife.” He peeks down at his notes. “Jeanne’s.” He peeks again. “Colon cancer.”

A Back at his condo he tries to think of someone to call. Jeanne’s brother and his family live abroad. Tate can never figure out the country codes so he rarely talks to them anymore. He has a few friends in town, but doesn’t feel like burdening them with the news. He phones Callie. He imagines the phone ringing next to a bundle of postcards atop an oversized wooden spool. When her answering machine picks up, he replaces the receiver. He decides to clean out the refrigerator. He dumps a half-gallon of milk down the sink, throws away expired salad dressing and cheese. In the far back corner of the refrigerator, hidden behind a can of sweet corn, is a jar of Jeanne’s favorite brown mustard. Tate pulls it out and examined the peeling label flecked with pepper: half-empty, a year past its expiration date, turning darker brown near the top of the jar. That it so outlasted Jeanne makes the mustard seem monumental, full of importance. He throws it and the can of sweet corn in the garbage. He’s neither hopeful or hopeless, but knowing that none of the condiments will be lingering around the refrigerator if something happens, waiting for him to return home, heartens him a little. Later, the doorbell rings. Tate looks through the peephole at Callie, who removes her sunglasses and sort of purses her lips. In her arms is a brown shopping bag. Tate opens the door and she smiles, then walks past him into the kitchen. “It smells like 117

something in here,” she says. Tate opens a window and sits in the recliner while Callie gets something to drink. He can see one bare foot, capped by the silver anklet. He wonders how casually he’d have to say, “So where have you been?” for it not to sound like a reprimand. She comes into the living room holding two glasses of pink liquid. “Grenadine and cheap beer,” she says, handing him a glass. “It tastes like soda.” Tate waits for the foam to recede before sipping it. It indeed tastes like soda, cold and cloying. He feels it traveling as a lump down his esophagus. Callie finishes hers, and makes a sour face. Her hair is fastened limply behind her head, and she looks paler, more tentative. She worries the anklet by shaking her foot around. It takes Tate a few minutes to realize she’s nervous. “It’s good,” he says. “I’m glad you came. I was at the hospital today.” “I guess that’s why I’m here then,” she says. When Tate finishes his drink, Callie goes into the kitchen and makes another. She invites Tate to sit on the couch and rests her feet on his knee. Her legs aren’t heavy. She confesses that, except for Tate, she’s tired of all her friends. They just want to whine about how much they regret this and that. She’s sick of it. They’re so uninteresting. Clearly, uninteresting, in her opinion, is the worst thing someone can be. Her feet move around atop his knees randomly. She’s considering quitting the hospital, but she wants to sleep with a doctor first, ideally a surgeon. Surgeons, she hears, are thorough. Surgeons have very clever hands. Tate studies a pair of silk fans clipped to the opposite wall, Jeanne’s final flourish. He feels as if he’s in a museum, eavesdropping on someone else’s conversation. His leg has fallen asleep. “It’s your turn to tell me a secret,” Callie says. Tate carefully sets his glass on the tea table, fitting it atop the wet ring it left. He says, “An old, old friend of Jeanne’s had discouraged Jeanne from marrying me. She used to send Jeanne birthday cards and Christmas cards, which I’d open and black out a few words from their greeting. Like she’d write Wishing you all the best these holidays. I sure would hate to still be living up north, wouldn’t you! And I’d black out the words to read The holidays sure do hate to still be living you! or something mean-spirited, and then mail the card back to her. After awhile they stopped coming.” Callie’s expression confirms that this is a good, that is, an interesting-enough, secret. “Didn’t they ever talk on the phone?” she asks. “I mean, even if Jeanne didn’t know, I’m sure she knew. You know?” “No,” Tate says. “I’m pretty sure she didn’t know.” Out the back window, he sees that the patio light has turned on: the sun is setting. “What is this called again?” he asks, pointing to the empty glass. “A Monaco. They drink them in Prague!” She returns to the kitchen. Tate digs his fingers into the sofa’s upholstery. He’s angry with himself. There was no reason to mention the cards, to casually bring them up so as not to appear secret-less or uninteresting, which he supposes he is. She returns with a glass in each hand. She asks, “Would you go without bathing for six months in exchange for five-hundred thousand dollars?” “Who’s going to pay that much for me not to bathe?” “Don’t worry about that,” she says. “The questions are supposed to make you think about how you live, what’s important to you. Okay, here’s another: would you live in perfect happiness for a year if at the end you wouldn’t remember any of it? Why, or why not?” “Sure,” he says. “Starting right now.” “Why, or why not?” He finishes his drink. Callie withdraws her legs and turns her head, poised to accept whatever Tate wants to unload on her. She has extremely sympathetic eyebrows. That her other friends spend their time confessing and regretting things to her doesn’t surprise him. What does she expect? She’s probably the only person they were moved to compose themselves around. Tonight, her eagerness seems insincere to Tate. Like

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earlier in the waiting room, he has the impulse to lean over, lay his head in her lap, and fall asleep. He supposes that if he asked, she’d allow him to, which is partially why he doesn’t ask. After a few minutes, she gets up from the couch and says, “Where are your records, Tate?” He sits forward. “You mean pictures?” “Albums. Record albums.” “Photo albums?” “I think we’re a little drunk. I see a record player but no records.” “Our bedroom closet,” Tate says. Callie returns with a stack of records and sets them in front of the record player. On hands and knees, she fiddles with the record player’s lid and soon a woman is singing in French over the speakers. “Edith Piaf, Charles Aznavour, Jacques Brel. These are amazing,” she says. “Do you speak French?” “They belonged to Jeanne. You can have them.” She says she couldn’t possibly take them. It was a casual offer, but the more reluctant she acts, the more vigorously he insists. They’re just records sitting in a closet. He isn’t sentimental about them, he doesn’t even speak French. He’d rather someone have the records who will listen to them. Callie gives in and thanks him. They dance. Tate’s hand rests lightly on her hip. She feels small at the waist, and smells like gum though he doesn’t notice her chewing any. The catheter presses against his chest, pinching him. Worrying about it, he almost trips over Callie’s feet, but she is a graceful dancer. Her eyes are closed. Tate knows that whatever happens tonight will be a lot like this dance: difficult for him, easy for her. This, he decides, is fine, fine. “Aren’t I a good dancer?” she says when the song ends, looking up at him. Her irises are the depthless blue of oceans in an atlas. He agrees that she is. “Lessons,” she says. She kneels down by the record player and finds another forty-five she’s excited about. Tate, waiting for her to finish, can’t decide what to do with his hands. “I’ve got an idea,” she says. “I’ll be right back.” A somber-sounding ballad plays, and Tate doesn’t understand a word. He used to come home from work to find Jeanne with a glass of wine in the recliner, listening to her records. The wine and the music left her meek and maudlin for the rest of the evening. Tate never asked her what the songs were about; she never told him. It was a pleasant mystery. Like the two-hour walks she took after dinner, or when she spoke French in her sleep. He knew so much and so little about her. Just as he’s about to stop the record, Callie walks in wearing a charm necklace and Jeanne’s auburn wig. It sits high on her head, over her hair, which is tucked beneath it. She has a long neck and, in the wig, looks like some sort of grandmother robin. It makes Tate instantly and irrationally angry. She smiles at him. “Shall we dance?” “First why don’t you take that off?” “Hey, why don’t we pretend we’re on a ship crossing the Atlantic? Like I’m the ladies auxiliary seeing you off to war. We’ve got one night until we hit port.” “That’s a bit too close to the truth. Right now, I’d really like you to take the wig off.” She steps closer to him, lifting her skinny arms to dance. “Tonight we dance, tomorrow it’s au revoir.” He expected Callie would do something irresponsible, he was hoping for it, actually. He was prepared to give in to whatever reckless idea she had. But not this. Not crossing the Atlantic and seeing him off to war in Jeanne’s wig. “Here,” he says. He grabs the wig and yanks harder than he intends. He expects to casually pull it off and toss it into the bedroom. Instead the wig shifts only slightly and Callie’s neck lurches. “That hurts,” she says, gripping and pushing away Tate’s arm. “Let go. You’re hurting me.” He doesn’t let go. Instead he pulls harder, reasoning that once he frees the wig, she’ll see why he grabbed it, and understand. He isn’t able to. She squirms free and

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collapses on the couch, out of breath, beginning to cry. The wig has shifted sideways enough for Tate to see the pearl-white heads of the pins holding it in place. The record ends and the needle ticks against the label before it lifts and resets. “That was not deliberate,” he says. “What’s wrong then? Why did you grab me?” She sits up, pulls the pins out of the wig carefully, one by one, and sets them and the wig next to her. Her hair gleams in contrast, as if she pulled off a scab. “What’s wrong?” she repeats. That she has no idea she’s done anything inappropriate—looking around the bedroom closet for something to put on, settling on Jeanne’s wig—seems to Tate unforgivably arrogant. “I’m sick,” he says. “No matter how much I want to, I’m not getting better.” She stands up and gathers the empty glasses from the tea table. “You don’t have to do that,” he says. He follows her into the kitchen, where she tucks the half-empty grenadine bottle into the shopping bag among beer cans. She won’t look at him. “We were having fun,” she tells the bag. “Take the records,” Tate says. He sees no good way to stop her from leaving, but thinks he can delay her a little longer. “Take whatever looks interesting.” To his surprise Callie finds another shopping bag, returns to the living room, and fills it with records. It takes about two minutes. “Your nose is bleeding,” she says on the way out. The usual concern in her voice is missing. If it had been there, he wouldn’t have recognized it, but its absence is far easier to identify. From the kitchen window he watches her get into her black car and drive away. In the living room he holds a wet paper towel to his nose. With his head back he can see the top bookshelf arrayed with knickknacks: a pair of Confucius figurines, saki cups around a tiny decanter, a Zen waterfall that, when plugged in, makes serene cascading noises. Jeanne, Jeanne, Jeanne. The blood pools along his palate. The record continues to play. When the bleeding stops, Tate returns the wig to the closet. It is stored on a styrofoam head, a bare white egg on a stand, not a head at all really, something designed with a single purpose in mind. Tate pins the wig to it, positioning the wig with the label toward the back. It makes the egg more head-like. “Placeholder,” he says to the egg. He isn’t tired so he goes into the living room to listen to Jeanne’s records, forgetting that Callie has left with them. There is just the forty-five on the turntable, which ends and resets every few minutes. He is thinking about Callie’s question: a year of perfect happiness after which he wouldn’t remember anything. The more he listens to the record, the more he likes the notion of a year of perfect happiness forgotten. Not the anticipation of one to come, but the idea that one might have existed in his past. A year of perfect happiness, just the sound of it, a single year locked away from the years before and the years after it, happiness unburdened by nostalgia, perfect…. In the morning, the record is still playing. Tate packs a small suitcase, locks the door to his condo, and drives himself to the hospital. ¤

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The Volunteer’s Friend Kevin Moffett

J oseph R ob e r t s o n

SELF-INTERVIEW Joseph Robertson, mastermind of LAB, performs a quick'n'dirty self-inteview with a jenky self-hypnosis contraption constructed out of 1) a portable Westinghouse record player found in the basement, 2) a handmade plate purchased for 25¢, and 3) an ipod with Aphex Twin's Cliffs on repeat. A dangerous proposition at best. Hypothesis: this is an un-scientific experiment, bound to yield nothing but rare gases, hot air, radioactive woo-woo waves, and residual ego issues. But you get to be the judge. Here's the results: You chose the tagline: Live. Learn. Repeat as necessary. Were there any alternate taglines? How convenient that you should ask! Why, there just happens to be a plethora of alternate tagline candidates, not limited to: LAB: Highbrow, lowbrow, no brow. LAB: Inconsistent by design. LAB: For Creative Content Mavericks. Grrrrr! LAB: We make stuff… not, like, with a laboratory, but, like… WITH OUR MINDS. LAB: It's not an acronym. LAB: For really really really ridiculously smart people. LAB: Short. Concise. Liberal with periods. LAB: Semi-colons are for wimps. LAB: ALL CAPS, ALL THE TIME. What's the story behind the name, LAB? Does it stand for anything? It's a bit of a geeky reference to LAB, an international color space. It's a way of defining colors, a little like sRGB or CMYK… actually, for a far better explanation, check out this wikipedia article: [http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/CIELAB]. And, of course, there's the more obvious reference to a lab, where you experiment with stuff.

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Where did you get funding for this project? I introduced some of my photography equipment to eBay. I'm down to a single 50mm lens. Which is fine— that's what I started with, and I love the simplicity of it. It's like riding a single-speed bike. I've also been lucky; my partner has helped float me. We plan on taking turns— down the road, when she goes back to school (for a degree in library science, is the current plan), I'll float her. You scratch my back, I'll scratch your back, and then all of our backs will be… all scratched. Which is, you know, nice when you've got an itchy back. I might just be wearing too many microfleece midlayers… or is it nanofleece? I don't think nanofleece exists just quite yet. Well, it should! If we can't have rocketpacks and monorails, the least Modern Technology can do for us is give up some freakin' nanofleece, right? I want some nanofleece that's so breathable that even the pores on my pores can breathe. We'll get right on that, sir. *ahem* What tools did you use to put together LAB? A 20" iMac G5. Adobe Creative Suite. A six-year-old AGFA scanner. A desk built out of two planks of wood on top of eight milkcrates. A small studio space, provided by Michael Fine (a very kind, warm-hearted guy who let us use a space when he heard that our original studio fell through because of a leaky roof). A 13" macbook. A Canon 350d. Oh, and that dusty old Cray supercomputey thingie in the basement. What were some of the challenges along the way? Riding the emotional roller coaster of the project. Where the euphoric peaks were something like, "This is fantastic! I love this! Why didn't I do this years ago? I'm learning new things! Weeee!!!" followed by the stomach-churning plummets: "What am I doing? What was I thinking? I can't do this! I don't have the skills or the budget! What have I got myself into? Waaah!!!" That probably makes me sound a bit like a manic-depressive bipolar Cathy comic strip, but you get the idea. Self-doubt, fear & loathing, anxiety, diarrhea— these are the things that destroy creativity, and generally make your butt clench uncomfortably. What got me through: the Power of Granularity. A fancy word for basically just breaking down each task into lots of little tasks and then breaking those tasks down into even smaller bits (the only downside being that to-do lists on any given day ran the length of a small novel). Other assistance came in the from a magical french press (never runs out of coffee), a heap of good books, Dave Brubeck, Nina Simone, long wandering photo walks, atrociously delicious chocolate crepes from Brenda's Tour De Crepes, encouraging friends who put up with my grandiose brainstorming mixed with self-indulgent whining (Hi Julie!), and a partner who believes in me fiercely and is honest enough to tell me when my one of my ideas is a big pile of poop. And several cases of pumpkin seed Ryvita. Can't underestimate the power of fiber in the diet, I'm telling you. It's all about fiber. And vigilance. Fiber is good. What are the best/worst parts of being your own boss? Worst: Putting more on my plate than I can handle. Being incredibly self-critical. Best: Putting what I want on my plate. Being able to have ideas and know I can make them happen, without going through any kind of committee group-grope or ten layers of apprehensive middle-managment. Finding likeminded folks to collaborate with. Just using the word "collaborate" a lot, generally, was pretty satisfying.

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What kind of jobs have you had in the past? Or projects you've worked on? Jobs/workplaces, in reverse chronological order: natural foods store, retail clothing, natural food store, bookstore, cafe/theater, pinball arcade, nude art modeling, tech support for ISP, natural foods store, used computer store, inventor's assistant, bookbindery, natural food store, bookbindery, grocery co-op, tech support for software company. Self-employment stints include: running a small bookbindery (Robertson Journals), online retail (CactusPony Books), and doing a scosh of freelance design & photography. Related: I spent three years running things into the ground with a site called pthbbbt.com, now (thankfully) RIP. And various other sites, including a small book collective. Also: kept up a mail art network (Mail Is Neat) for about five years, which is now simmering on a backburner. Volunteer gigs: I've put in time with ZAP (the Zine Archive Project) in Seattle, and I'm currently volunteering with Reading Frenzy, the mecca of micropress here in Portland. Is that all? Besides a spot of office temping here and there, yeah, that covers it. It looks pretty crazy and unfocused, but I've picked up some invaluable experiences along the way. But it's hard to cram that all on a resume and have it make much sense. I guess it highlights a few recurring interests: books, natural foods, books, and geeky tech stuff. Oh, and books. All those disparate jobs served as springboards to all kinds of learning adventures, whether it was meeting folks (I met John Hansen while working at Elliott Bay Book Co and he gave me a crash-course in hand bookbinding), learning how to set type by hand for a hot-foil stamping machine, learning how to troubleshoot network issues, watching an eccentric inventor design binding machine prototypes, or learning InDesign to make a store newsletter. If every boring task is viewed as an excuse to learn something new, well, life gets a little more interesting. Of course, with repetitive busy-work, there's a point of diminishing returns, and it's easy to start going a little nuts. I remember one temp job that involved stuffing envelopes with insurance statements all day long, and at some point (after mastering the art of using a bone-folder to get a perfect crease… which would later come in handy when folding signatures for handmade journals), I started stuffing outgoing envelopes with candy and glitter and haiku… *ahem* But enough of that— I'll save those stories for the grandkids. Doesn't this all this seem a little self-indulgent? Yes. It's incredibly self-indulgent. But that's what I appreciate as a reader: stuff that has personality. Or a story behind it. The zines I enjoy most are made by people I know, or have at least met. That personal connection gives their work more meaning to me. As well as a different level of authenticity and trust. It's the same with food— when you know the person who's serving you that crepe or slice of cake, it makes it taste that much better. That, and I felt it would only be fair that I subject myself to the same interviewing lens that I've been aiming at everyone else, just to see how it feels (See Laura Kicey's article on self-portraiture, page 23). It's a little uncomfortable, actually. But at the same time, I think a little introspection via the ol' Q & A is good for ya. What are your plans for LAB? What were some of the inspirations? To see if there's an audience for something that's a hybrid mix of online media & micropress, with a healthy sprinkle of the personal aspect of a zine or blog, but with some nice clean design & eye candy, would be a messy way of putting it. While working on this issue, I've thought a lot about the audience, and the groundswell of DIY media makers, and this little 3D model of parameters has been forming in my mind, not completely unlike the LAB parameters (where A = green to magenta, B = yellow to blue, and L = lightness)… visualize this: in a three-dimensional space, we're talking about creative folks who might fall anywhere on the X axis (of amateur to pro), or the Y axis (of for-profit to not-for-profit), but on the vertical Z axis of I’m doing this to pay the bills to I’m doing this because I love doing it, these folks

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would all definitely be in the latter category. In other words, people who are passionate about what they do, and would do it no mater what. Technical gibberish aside, on a more selfish level, LAB is like one ginormous learning project for me. Overall, I'll be happy if LAB provides some food-for-thought for anyone, even if just those involved. Some personal inspirations: Tibor Kalman, M&CO, COLORS, Lawrence Weschler, Miranda July, Zadie Smith, Dave Eggers, McSweeney's, Emigre, and a whole heap of micropress publications & online media makers. And pretty much every single interviewee in this issue, for that matter. I have huge crushes on all of them, in terms of what they're creating. Are you afraid of LAB being a giant belly flop? To be honest, I've imagined every flavor of failure. The little librarians in the back of my head that never sleep (metaphor stolen from Dave Egger's You Shall Know Our Velocity) are fantastically good at providing a wide inventory of worst case scenarios, ranging from no one cares to everyone will point & laugh to you're going to look back on this little phase and be so fantastically embarrassed. There's always a million ways to fail. The only true failure is if you don't learn anything. So, to my warped way of thinking, a million ways to fail = a million ways to learn. Or, as the design firm WK+12 so elegantly put it: Fail harder. What's next? I'm in the process of starting up a small design studio with Nate Beaty of Clixel Design & BrainFag infamy. It's called color | space, and we're going to wear the following feathers in our hats: print & web, coding illustration, photography, and, maybe eventually: info architecture & color consulting. Such fine feathery hats! We have a very nice white couch. One of us is color blind, while the other can tell the difference between chatreuse & harlequin green; one of us can code while sleep-walking, and the other couldn't code his way out of a wet paper bag, so we make a good team. An odd-fellows sitcom just waiting to be made. We could call it: Who Moved My Pantone Swatches? Did I mention we have a white couch? Any words of advice for DIY startups? Not that I'm qualified to be giving advice, but, if I must… Find something you love doing. And something that will provide opportunities to constantly learn and grow and be challenged. Don't get stuck in something dead-end, where you're cranking out books or bread or crafty widgets like some kind of sleep-deprived low-wage zombie, ie; don't become a sweatshop of one. So find your Thing (sometimes this involves doing something and finding out that it is most definitely Not Your Thing), then work your ass off and chalk it all up to experience. Try not to re-invent the circle too often, although sometimes you'll need to hammer a new shape out of a pre-existing circle. Find excuses to learn new things. Keep a journal of those things. Keep a sense of humor no matter what. Find a way to make your work fun, even if that means less profit. And don't forget to give yourself an emergency escape button. Listen to others, but not to the extent that you stop listening to yourself. In fact, you probably shouldn't be listening to me. Finally, don't write in the 2nd person imperative— it's just plain obnoxious. I'll leave y'all with yet another quote from Buckminster Fuller: A lot of people think or believe or know they feel (experience)— but that's thinking or believing or knowing; not feeling (experiencing).Almost anybody can learn to think or believe or know, but not a single human being can be taught to feel (experience). Why? Because whenever you think or you believe or you know, you're a lot of other people: but the moment you feel (experience), you're nobody-but-yourself. To be nobody-but-yourself— in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else— means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting. ¤

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CO N T R I B U TO R S Nate Beaty has been scribbling on whatever scrap of paper that

Aaron Renier currently lives in Brooklyn Ny with his dog Beluga. He

crossed his path since gradeschool. The last seven years have been spent attempting to hone the tricky craft of comics. With several self-publications and anthology work under his belt, Nate fears this comic obsession will be a lifelong pursuit, and has begun preparing for a monk-like future eating rice and sipping tea from ink-stained cups.

won an Eisner award for his first book Spiral-Bound out with Top Shelf Productions, and is currently working on a book title The Unsinkable Walker Bean for Scholastic Books. He is also working on his beard which is coming in nicely.

PDX Super Crafty is a collective of four women who each run a busi-

Edgar Dacosta was born in Spain in 1986. He says, “I’m not studying

ness selling handmade items. They joined forces to support each other, promote their businesses as one, and to help people discover the importance of crafting and buying handmade items. Their first book, Super Crafty: Over 75 Amazing How-To Projects was released last fall.

photography, and I’m not a professional photographer, but I like so much this little world full of fantasy, sensations and inexplicable emotions.”

Brenda Edin is a small business owner and freelance writer in Portland,

Mark Pesce is the founder of FutureSt, a Sydney Media and Technlogy

OR. A lover of both work and play, she encourages others to find a career for which they have not only the skills, but the interest and passion.

Consultancy. Pesce is best known as the co-inventor of VRML. Author of five books and numerous articles, Pesce is the former founding chair of both the New Media program at USC’s School of Cinema-Television, and the Emerging Media program at the Australian FilmTelevision and Radio School.

Ray Fenwick is an illustrator, artist, letterer and letterpress printer living in Halifax, Nova Scotia. He was the author of the award-winning comic Hall of Best Knowledge, now finished its run. He makes all kinds of things, but to be honest, most of them include lettering in some way.

Working the web since 1995, Derek Powazek is the creator of many award-winning websites, a couple of which still exist. Derek is the cofounder of JPG Magazine and the CCO of 8020 Publishing. Derek lives in San Francisco with his wife, two nutty Chihuahuas, a grumpy cat, and a house full of plants named Fred.

Matt Hinrichs is a freelance graphic designer and illustrator from Phoenix, Arizona. His wanky noodlings can be sampled at scrubbles.net.

Lara Jade is a seventeen-year-old photographer from central England. She says, “I’m mostly self-taught, but last year I enrolled in a photography course at college. I currently use a Canon 350d with 18-55mm lens, 50mm f/1.8, and a 60mm macro.”

OFFICE owners Tony Secolo and Kelly Coller are an award-winning husband and wife graphic design and marketing team. Together and separately, they have been involved in the graphic design profession for over ten years. Secolo’s graphic design work has been featured in HOW, Print, the San Francisco Center for the Book, and several other publications. Coller, in addition to owning OFFICE with Secolo, is also the Marketing Director for design firm, Twenty Four Seven in Portland, OR and a board member for the Portland Institute of Contemporary Arts. Prior to OFFICE, Coller worked in business development and client relations for NBBJ and also for ZIBA. She has served on a number of arts and design boards throughout her career, including the American Institute for Graphic Arts (Seattle Chapter). She is also certified in Design Firm Leadership and Management and has written many articles on public service, marketing, leadership, and design.

Laura Kicey is a graphic designer and photographer from Central Pennsylvania. She can usually be found cloistered in an attic in Ambler, PA with her Mac or skulking around alleys with her camera. Her photographs have been published in a number of books and magazines and shown in local and online galleries alike.

Kevin Moffett was born and raised in Daytona Beach, Florida. Until recently, he edited and wrote for Funworld. His stories have appeared in McSweeney’s, Tin House, StoryQuarterly, the Chicago Tribune, and elsewhere. His first collection of stories, Permanent Visitors, won the Iowa Short Fiction Award.

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LINKS

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GO AHEAD: JUDGE A BOOK BY ITS COVER

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THANK YOU FOR NOT TELLING ME TO HAVE A NICE DAY

Post the photo to: flickr.com/groups/lab_projects/ Include the ownerâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s name and the business name in the description. Add the following tags to the photo: LABproject02 small biz portrait

Yo u c a n n e v e r l e a r n l e s s , y o u c a n o n l y l e a r n m o r e . | B u c k m i n s t e r F u l l e r