The Year in Review/State of All things: DECEMBER 2018 {official thing} (Patreon)
Content
(patron-only post)
(photo by kahn & selesnick)
“By my definition, a patron is anyone who supports another in the authentic unfolding of self.
Since writing this is for me a vulnerable act of self-expression, if you choose to give up your time to read it, you are supporting me.
You are my patron. And if I manage to write something that affects you, I will become yours.
Patronage, in its truest form, is always symbiotic.
When we encourage another in their authenticity, we cannot help but affirm the importance of our own.”
-Wendy Ice
……
subject:
hello my dear loves.
** quickie news flash*: the deadline for patron-only hardback artbooks was dece 31st (today), but due to popular demand and holiday-crush crankiness, we are adding 200 extra art-books to each merch store (US and UK). when they're gone they're gone, but this means that you probably have another week to order! everything is at: https://nointermission.amandapalmer.net/ **
before i start in, i just counted, and i produced NINETEEN official things (not couting our monthly althing) this year. holy fuck that's a lotta art n things.
it’s the end of another year, and i want to do something different for this end-of-year post.
for my new patrons...i do a wrap-up post at the end of every month and charge for it, it's my way of gaming the system and making sure we always have a floor income to keep the lights on. the patrons voted this system in, and it's been working beautifully - and gives me a hardcore reason to reflect each month. every month's Althing is a little different.
if you look back at last year’s december Year-in-Reveiw/State Of All Things, it’s filled with links and pictures and facts and figures and ebullient shouts of glee that we accomplished many things, made many arts, and broke many records together.
projects were manifested into the world, many charities were given to, my work and the work of my close collaborators continued to blink it’s little light-house beam out over the dark sea in intermittent flashes, sometimes catching you, sometimes catching the eye of the mainstream or indie world.
i stand by every strange thing i made in 2017 and i stand by every strange thing i made in 2018, and i’m about to stand by a whole bunch of strange things i’ll make in 2019. i’m a working artist and i never stop working, and i never stop believing in my own work (even when it’s hard) and the fact that i have you here is a big reason that i’m able to do that.
so, deep breath, here i goes. i’m going to write and write and not stop, and hopefully by the end you’ll understand a little more about how i feel about this goddam year.
it was a hard one. and a beautiful one.
first of all, i wanna start this lonnnnnnnng ramble by thanking all of you (about, oh, 201 one of you at the time of this writing) who posted me little tidbits of your lives on the last post. i read everything you wrote (it took me the better part of yesterday) and i commented where i could. two reflections there: one) i am so sorry that patreon’s inter-communication system is still so vague and shitty. i, too, suffer from the “did anyone actually get my comment?” spiral, and while we do have a reddit tie-in, i’m loathe to drag everyone over there on posts like this. i’ll do some experimenting in this coming year to try and find/create a better way for us all to communicate without using farceborg. two) so many of you are going through hard times…i saw a lot of resonant themes flickering and reflecting through your comments - there’s a lot of parent drama, and self-doubt, and health worries, and pets dying, and anxiety around kids…and so much more. i see you all. if you’re out there and i didn’t take time to comment back to you directly, know that i read your stories and they’re all sitting with me as i spend a week to catch up with myself.
and with that: greetings from a very strange little island down in the caribbean. i despise fancy resorts filled with rich people (i’ve had to stay at a couple of them in my life and i always wanna throw myself off a bridge) and so justine and i found a weird no-frills bed and breakfast (though they don’t *always serve breakfast*, we found out today) on this volcanically rocky island of martinique, a french-speaking "region" of france about 600 miles east of cuba and haiti. it's an econimcally challenged island (like a lot of spots down here), and we're staying in one of the more down-at-heel areas. there are lots of goats, and, generally speaking, white people are tourists.
there haven’t been any big markets open and our kitchen consists of two burners on an outdoor stove and a small sink, so we have been eating nuts and bread hoarded from the last mainland airport. the markets will be open, we are hoping, sometime after new years. until then, we will make due with what we can, hope that ash doesn’t judge, and at least we have some alcohol for new years eve, though i am pretty sure we are both going to crash out by 10 o’clock given how fucking tired we all are.
i’m also keenly aware of how nervous i am to talk about taking my time off on a carribean island as apposed to, say, the berkshire mountains, or at HOME, or anywhere else that is cold, un-sexy, and dreary this time of year. i’m hearkening back to my own passage in “the art of asking” where a melbourne songwriter tells me she’s terrified to tell her patrons that she’s going on vacation to indonesia, and the speech i gave her about how she could spend her fucking time how she fucking wanted to.
it's still weird. your encouragement to take care of myself has meant a lot. i am enjoying not feeling like i have to defend my right to take time off, or care where, to take care of my body, to spend time with my kid, to unwind and walk away from the internet for more than three hours. i think it’s really important to do. but i also feel myself wanting to tell you about the goats so you know i'm not in a club med golf resort like some asshole. i suppose that misses the point altogether, doesn't it. if i wanted to go to a club med golf resort, really, i should be able to. do. what. i fucking. want. maybe i just want you to know that i'm the kind of person who hates golf course resorts. maybe i need your approval.
before i forget….here’s a incomplete list of the books i’ve brought with me to read:
why we sleep, by matthew walker, PhD (so psyched to see so many of you have already read it, from the last post)
she wants it, by jill soloway (creator of transparent)
punished by rewards, by alfie kohn (a parenting book recommended by a friend)
just kids, by patti smith (re-reading)
figuring, by maria popova (not out yet - and technically i don’t have it with me….i forgot my paperback ARC and i need to bug maria for a PDF)
one perfect day: the selling of the american wedding, by rebecca mead (almost down with this one and it’s SO GOOD)
blue nights, by joan didion (holy fuck, started it last night, holy fuck it’s good. joan didion can write me the phone book)
race, by toni morrison
the zen reader, edited by thomas cleary (pre-meditation reading, i always like to have a red before i sit)
a spark of light, by jodi picoult
….and if i get through just two of these books, i’ll be happy.
…………….
visiting helen (our cousin, who is now *almost* 101 years old, i was wrong in that last post, her birthday is right around the corner in early february) was as soul-nourishing as usual, and as usual, we didn’t have nearly enough time with her.
this is a woman who escaped the warsaw ghetto, and who lost both of her parents and cousins and entire neighborhood network to the gas chambers. i always feel honored to sit and listen to what she has to say.
i asked her if she’s been reading the news lately. if she knows about trump and the wall.
she shook her head at me, sadly.
“i don’t understand it, amanda. i don’t understand it,” she said.
“i know about being a refugee. i know about not knowing when i will eat. i know how these people feel. i see the images of the children in cages, in CAGES, amanda, and i see myself. i have had to hold the image all my life of my mother, and my father, and all of my loved ones being led into rooms, where they were told they were going to be given showers. then they were gassed and killed. people tell me to forget those images, but i cannot. how could i forget? and then i see this happening.”
“i can’t read the news anymore, amanda. i just can’t.”
and she just sat there looking sad and appalled.
and i felt like this whole world was letting her down.
and like i was personally letting her down somehow, by letting this world happen this way. how could i let this happen? she’s fought all these years to survive, to build a better life and world, to found a center for holocaust studies…and now, after losing her husband and hitting the centenary mark, she’s watching the country - the country that opened its arms to her - go to hell in a hand basket.
she was happy to see ash.
“He has to investigate,” she kept saying and smiling, as he turned over every object in her assisted-living old folks’ apartment “….look at him!….He has to investigate!”
I hope he gives her some hope. Like, maybe my three-year old can make up for Trump, just a little bit.
if you want to see helen telling her holocaust story, it’s HERE as part of steven spielberg’s shoah survivors project. she sat down with a camera in 1996. it’s over three hours long, because … it takes the time it takes.
and if you want a shorter, more recent video of helen…you gotta look at this post from maria popova, on brain pickings, who we introduced helen to a few years ago.
this post made helen really, really happy. she said it made her feel useful.
here we all are, in helen’s apartment:…
…………..
so….onwards.
i read something by chance a few weeks ago, accidentally (though isn’t it all accidental?), something that stopped me in my tracks. it was a link that happened to show up in my twitter feed because @WhatMollySaid tagged me, mentioning that the piece was a good companion to “the art of asking” and i clicked it with a ho-hum sense of curiosity while i was getting ready to shut everything and go to bed one night. it was a long letter written by a woman on an obscure corner of the internet, an intimate mailing to her list of supporters, and it read a little bit like my own posts here.
the first sentence grabbed me and sucked me into the post, and i read the entire thing in one sitting, with my jaw dropping slowly towards the floor.
it was a….familiar feeling…what was this feeling? it reminded me of the fizziness i used to feel when i was a teenager, upon hearing certain songs or albums for the first time. an empathic euphoria, a sense of recognition, a sense of THIS THIS THIS !!!!!! , a sense of not-aloneness.
i miss that. there isn’t much music lately that makes me feel not alone. maybe it’s because i’m older; maybe it’s because my life experiences have become so specific and grown-up that it’s hard to find someone express or articulate, using music, what i feel. EXACTLY what i feel. i used to put on certain songs and feel like they were mainlining into my soul, into my very cells, shaking hands with my inner core in nodding-head brotherhood. i would put on records by the legendary pink dots, the cure, robyn hitchcock, current 93, and feel simply UNDERSTOOD. i really miss that feeling. there’s been music that i’ve loved recently (lorde’s first record, and re-discovering ani difranco, for starters), but nothing that has reached into my core and throttled my heart with now-ness and complete one-ness.
this post wasn’t a song, but it sort of was. it was a song to my heart-ears.
it was a really well-written description of what a person receiving patronage really FEELS like.
but enough.
i am asking you a favor, if you can, to understand the rest of this post of MINE, please read this:
if you don’t, no worries. i’m going to quote it at length and if you’ve already read it, you’ll already be well-versed.
i’ll wait. you back? ok.
reading this post made me feel several things at once. first of all: i wanted to weep, because maybe i will only get to feel that 15-year-old-fizziness through reading words, not though music anymore, maybe i’ve changed. second: god DAMN it feels good to see someone writing about your feelings, your lonely unique inner experience SO WELL. and three: fuck. why didn’t i write this myself? it wasn’t exactly envy. but there was this sort of envy-ish-ness that set in because this post was so very articulate in a way that i feel i’m not. i feel like my words are clumsy, i over-explain, i don’t use pretty and smart adjectives, i go on and on and on, and on, and on,…i don’t capitalize…i don’t quote rilke….i tend to repeat myself and go on, and on….
the post was written by a woman named wendy ice, who partnered up long ago with david delamare, an artist and illustrator.
here’s an example of his gorgeous, detailed, sumptuous artwork:
in a nutshell: david was making a living from his art, not a massive one, enough-ish, but wanted to be uncompromising with his artistic principles.
that uncompromising-ness meant that commercial work was hard to do, and the art market was hard to navigate. his journey was really similar to my own wit the major label system.
everybody always wanted me to compromise. my body, my songs, my artwork, my relationship with my fans. i hated it.
their own community encouraged them to use crowdfunding, and they finally took the plunge and did it, kickstarter-ing a book he’d dreamed of publishing ( an illustrated version of alice in wonderland)
and that no mainstream publisher would touch, because they just didn’t….get it.
regarding the posts she was writing to her kickstarter supporters, wendy says:
“It was frightening to be so personal with strangers, and others warned me against it. But these were the people who had urged us to be entirely true to ourselves. And I think perhaps some part of me wanted to test the limits of this newfound support for authenticity. Was it limited to the book project? Or did it extend to us as individuals?
Each time I’d write something intimate, I’d cringe as I hit the “post update” button. Each time I’d expect someone to accuse me of “oversharing” or being “unprofessional.” But the result of my openness was not the rejection or criticism, I expected. The result was kindness, warmth, trust, and empathy. And something beautiful was happening for backers who chose emotional investment. They, like me, began to sense connection and meaning that transcended the book. Long before we delivered anything, several backers who had supported hundreds of campaigns said that ours was their favorite.
Despite our delays, no one urged us to cut corners, to lower our standards, or to approach things differently. No one attempted to advise or control us. And almost everyone stayed with us. Though the book would eventually arrive more than two years late, only five backers out of 826 requested refunds.
No one was unkind or unfair. I don’t know what quiet backers were thinking. But those who spoke were sending the message I’d secretly longed for all my life, the message we all wish for and too seldom hear:
‘Be true to yourself. Stick to your standards and values. Don’t compromise. Don’t cave in to fear. Trust yourself. We trust and believe in you.’
Having that kind of support is immensely empowering. I don’t know how this works for others, but when someone trusts and believes in me, I work harder to be worthy of that trust and belief. When they treat me as strong and capable, I become stronger.”
this is about the point in the post where i was near tears.
i just couldn’t believe someone was putting such clear words to things i’d thought and felt a million, billion times.
i wonder if this all sounds weird to you. i mean…i wrote a book about this shit, i wrote a 90,000-word tome about LITERALLY these things. but it fells like she just distilled everything into one simple few paragraphs. i felt overwhelmed with that fizzy recognition.
but wait. it got worse, and i kept crying.
after heading into kickstarter, wendy received a triple-threat from the universe. both of her parents were diagnosed with late-stage life-threatening cancers.
and then david, her love, was diagnosed with cancer as well. they fought valiantly, all while working on the art and trying to stick to the production timelines.
and then….
david died.
wendy says:
“My favorite poet, Ranier Maria Rilke, once wrote that the best measure of a marriage partner was ‘whether one wishes to stand guard at another person’s solitude and whether one is inclined to position this same person at the gates of one’s own depth…’
I think this is an excellent ideal for any meaningful relationship. When we stand guard at another person’s solitude we allow them to make their own choices, discoveries, and mistakes. And we let them do it on their own natural timeline. This “guarding of solitude” which one might also call a “supportive stepping back” is the very essence of patronage. Our Kickstarter backers urged us to proceed authentically and patiently supported us all along the way, even when it was inconvenient. Then, when David died, they repeated this formula.
Each person reached out, sincerely offered condolences and help, then gently stepped back and allowed me to find my own way. If advice was given, there was no pressure to take it. If company was offered, I was free to decline. Everyone made me feel as though they'd be there for me if I needed them.
But nothing was imposed.
I will never be able to thank everyone enough for that gift. Because in lovingly stepping back, those individuals gave me the freedom and courage to find my own way. I was free to be stoical, but just as free to fall apart. I knew if one day I woke up and couldn’t leave bed that I’d be fine. Someone would feed and clothe me, and do my laundry. Someone would get me to counseling. Someone would hold me and let me sob. I never had a moment’s doubt about that. This offering and stepping back was a huge and powerful act of love that required strength and wisdom especially from those who were closest.
It’s hard to allow someone we love to find their own path. But it’s the only way to truly love. It’s also the only way to show respect and trust which, when given, are transformative.
At times it’s almost impossible to resist the impulse to swoop in, to rescue and fix things, to advise, and shield loved ones from suffering before they have the opportunity to make valuable mistakes and grow.
Loving with wisdom often means jumping in if things become dire, but holding back until then. And even when we succeed at that incredibly difficult task, we often unconsciously convey judgment, doubt, or fear.
Parents want to support the child who dreams of a financially risky career or longs to move to another country. But they can’t help but worry, and their unspoken loving concern can feel like judgment or lack of support. We want to support our spouses in their most cherished dreams, however impractical. But we also hope to pay the mortgage. Words of support from a loved one often ring false when tinged with fear. And they may be undervalued. We may hear them and think, “they’re only saying that because they love me.” Patronage, because of its distance, sidesteps many of these problems and grants something that, at its best, feels very much like unconditional love.
A patron can support another person’s authentic self and vision without consciously or unconsciously placing any demands on them. They can offer complete encouragement without doubt or hesitation.
A patron can urge another to take a bold practical or emotional risk with little or no risk to themselves. (Unlike my parents, patrons don’t wonder whether I’ll show up at their door and ask to move in.)
But patronage isn’t something that should be reserved for professional artists. We all need patronage. Perhaps we need it more than ever.
It’s always been hard to live with authenticity and vulnerability and to act boldly in pursuit of one’s dreams. But now, all day long, we’re bombarded with advertising messages that say we’re somehow lacking. And social media compounds the problem. The pressure to conform is greater than ever because our every expression is measured by external standards. We quickly learn which kinds of comments get “likes” or are worthy of “shares.” Meanwhile, when writing something honest, we may find ourselves publicly attacked. So, unless we’re comfortable with conflict, we soon censor ourselves and whatever we might have given becomes lost. There’s no getting around these pressures. But we can resist them by actively encouraging others to be authentic and thanking them when they risk vulnerability. I know this can change lives because it’s changed mine.”
so, at this point, i was sobbing. in gratitude, in recognition.
i talk about unconditional love all the time. it’s one of my favorite subjects. how we have to have it for each other. how every human has to have it for every other human. how i have to have it for neil, and it’s hard. how i have to have it for ash, and it’s so easy. how unconditional love is the only thing that can really conquer the problems of the planet and blah blah blah.
but it had never occurred to me that for all of my pontificating about unconditional love, and all of my psychobabble about my own relationships, it had literally never occurred to me that the very thing we’ve built here on patreon is, well….that.
patronage is, when you strip it down, just unconditional love.
it’s saying: i will support you, with no strings attached, to follow your authentic path, to create the art you need to create.
it’s what i’ve been trying to do. i don’t know if i’m doing it well, but i know i’m doing it.
and you know what? it’s the fucking best, you guys. the best.
so, anyway, there i was, sobbing on my bed reading this stranger’s post.
and it made me wonder how much you actually KNOW about my own emotional relationship this patreon, and how much it’s changed MY life, and how it’s changed my insides, and how it’s changed my way of thinking about my work. i say all the time, in post after post, that i’m filled with gratitude, and that i appreciate your patronage so much, and that it’s everything, and i go on and on and on. (and on. i know.)
sometimes i say it so often that it starts to ring like a hollow platitude, like a lord’s prayer or an ommmmm at the end of a yoga class or a pledge of allegiance uttered for the thousandth time in a classroom.
but i always, always, mean it. and it makes it easier every time i say it, because the relationship feels more real as the weeks and months and years wear on. and also, there’s always new people joining the fold, and the way it always feels fresh to play old songs for a new audience who doesn’t know the joke is coming….it all feels constantly fresh and real.
i really don’t know what my life’s work would have looked like for the last three years without this patreon, but i can guarantee you this: i wouldn’t have made about 70% of the work. i just wouldn’t have had the funds to create such un-sellable, non-commercial, weird (and often spontaneous) things. videos like “mr. weinstein will see you now” just wouldn’t exist. that video cost north of $40k to make. BUT I REALLY WANTED TO MAKE IT. did it turn a profit? no. will it ever? no. did i desperately want to make it? yeah. was i able to? yes. because of this, because of you, this collection of beautiful souls who chipped in about $3 each so that i could hire a massive crew of filmmakers and dancers and rent out a whole building in brooklyn to manifest the idea into a shareable reality.
i just went over to the long list of patreon things to survey what came out in 2018. (you can look at everything here: http://amandapalmer.net/patreon-things/)
my personal highlights, looking back? the weinstein video (which has racked up almost 100k views) as the shining gem, for sure. but also, the podcast with david eagleman feel like a crowning achievement, and i’m still excited to make it public at some point (i haven’t yet, it's patron only...enjoy it).
and so did the judy blume video we filmed in new orleans (and i warn you, now that there’s an album version to release, and judy blume may be game, i may make a second video for that fuckign song because i love it that much. and you know what? I CAN DO THAT IF I WNAT TO. I CAN MAKE 13 VIDEOS FOR THE SAME SONG IF I WANT TO, BECAUSE I HAVE A PATREON!!!!! WHEEEEEEEEEEEE. let’s make a judy blume video on the moon, someone call NASA…or elon musk?). it made me really happy to bring jason (webley) on as the director for that video: it was a job he’d never really done, at that scale or in that way, and i felt like a proud sister getting to share some of my fun playground with him. making electric blanket - both the single, which we recorded at ani difranco’s house - and the video, which jason helped produce in LA with the help of some of the patrons here - was another soul-nourishing moment. jason’s dad has been really sick…he’s in hospice now and his end is drawing near, and jason hasn’t been able to focus on his own work as much as i think he’d probably like to. being able to scoop him up and bring him into this projects felt like a gift in both directions: i got to hang out with my friend, and jason got to do some no-pressure fun work to take his mind off the family hardship he’s enduring. things like this, real things like this, are important to me. not just “what kind of art do i want to make” but “why…and with who”. i prize my family and friendships above my work, or maybe that’s not fair: they have to co-mingle in order for me to be happy. the patreon makes that possible…because there’s no way i’d want to walk into the offices of a record label and say “i need an advance to do a project that will probably have no commercial value because i just really need to collaborate with my friend right now because his dad is dying”.
companies don’t work like that. they can’t. they have to think about the profit, or they cease existing, period. but people CAN work like that, if they want to. i do. i want to. and your patronage is what makes it possible for me to organize my work around my life, instead of organizing my life around my work.
the “re-wired” https://www.patreon.com/posts/patron-journal-20803724 and “bride-tripping” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zXgTazHFr20 videos were more perfect examples of totally commercially non-viable projects that deserved to get born but just wouldn’t have without the patreon.
one was a brand-new reflection on my understanding of vanity, and grief about my miscarriage. and one was a collection of really old footage that deserved to be exhumed and put into a new sort of container.
these are the sorts of projects i dream about making (and have always dreamt of making) but could ever figure out how to fund. i say it a lot, but there aren’t many options out there to “fund” work like this. there’s paying out of your pocket (un-sustainable, the money would run out fast), there’s rare government grants (impossible for so many reasons) and then there’s what so many artists are doing today: there’s getting into bed with corporations and becoming an advertiser for someone else. and maybe it’s my vintage, but i just can’t handle it.
this past holiday season was particularly eye-opening in this department. i feel like i can talk more candidly here than i would on social media…and certainly, if you’ve read this far, i can speak even more ramblingly and plainly.
in the few weeks leading up to christmas, i felt like i kept getting pummeled with a particular glove of sadness. it was all happening on instagram, the platform where everybody seems to be posting media and so-called “content” nowadays. i have said it many times: i’m a platform slut. i’ll go where the people go, and i’ll always assume the people, like a strange, constantly-migrating internet-day diaspora, will always move on from whatever platform we happen to be currently utilizing. i’ve seen it playing out this way for years.
it started when i met a young musician i really liked. she was a young upstart, pop-punk rebel type with a powerful energy and a feminist bent. i followed her instagram one night, and flicked through her history. and my heart (my old cantankerous punk heart) sort of broke a little bit as i saw a whole string of posts that were just, bluntly, product placements. she was clearly getting paid to use her feed to advertise a bunch of things. she was silly, she was charismatic, and she was good at it, but it also felt really strange, to tune into her feed and find that it was mostly just a stream of her, acting as a commercial agent for a bunch of hair products and clothes. and i thought a lot about this younger generation, and the weird hall of mirrors that is “authentication”. in a strange twist of paradox: i imagine that some of the teenagers tuning into her feed aren’t turned off by the sales pitches, because it’s the sales pitches themselves that are “authenticating” this artist as a “real” one. “notam enim est conjunctio cum ergo ipsa est vera.”
(“she’s partnering with a brand, therefore she is real.”)
and so it goes. it used to be, in the Days of Yore, back when i was 25 and dinosaurs roamed the earth, things felt really different. the “alternative” music scene, whatever that meant (the punk scene, the grunge scene, the so-called cool music), was pretty much all on the same page regarding partnerships with corporations. you just didn’t do them if you wanted to be taken seriously as a real, authentic artist.
michael jackson and other pop artists could go right ahead and partner up with pepsi, but that was their job and good for them: they were pop artists. but nirvana? radiohead? bjork? nick cave? no no no noooooo. nooooooooooooo. “artists” - the sort of “artists” that you relied on to be no-bullshit moral compass of cool - were not supposed to enter the corporate zone. and mostly, they didn’t, and most groovers of my vintage still don’t (when was the last time you saw nick cave in an ad for cartier watches, knock on fucking wood).
and again: this is simply the musician moral code i was raised with. you don’t get in bed with a company trying to sell something. if you do, your art, and your integrity, will be immediately compromised. you can’t express yourself freely if pepsi (or anybody) is sapping your “authenticity” to hock product.
so i feel my sad feels, and i went along my merry way…but only a few days later, i was flicking through instagram again, and my heart sank a little further. a performance artist/film-maker type that i love was following suit. her stuff has always been playful, and severely honest, and extremely counter-mainstream-culture. her whole schtick is being a post-modern maker, a fresh pair of eyes peeling back and exposing the absurdity of the world. and there she was, tailoring her theatrical posts to advertise a sweater company. she made a little film in her style, and she tried to sell their sweaters. i was sad.
i was like: is it me, or is this a thing. i tweeted about it.
it brought up some great discussio.
and yeah....those two things bothered me, but then, things got weirder. and it was the third thing that left me actually crushed, because it was more personal.
i was thumbing through my instagram feed a few days later and i saw a beautiful candid picture of an old old friend of mine with her toddler. we have kids almost the same age, hers is a little older than mine. they were sitting in front of their christmas tree and looking off camera, laughing. my smile widened…and then faded. as i started reading the tiny text that accompanied the photo, i realized that this was actually an advertisement. the photo was posed, the toddler was holding an organic snack, the post was one of those “er……is it an ad or isn’t it?” ads, and the knife went fully into my stomach.
and i wasn’t angry with my friend, who i love. or my filmmaker, who i love. or the young musician i’d met, who i hope to get to know better, and one more.
i was more... angry at the world.
angry that this is what it’s come to, that the line is now so blurred that i’m not really sure what to believe anymore when i look at the feeds of my friends and my colleagues.
and angry, in a way, because i know all these people need the money, or the discount, or the free product, and i shouldn’t judge them, and angry because it’s all so easy to justify, angry because “why the big deal about this amanda”, which is the response i get every time i post grumblingly about this on social media.
angry because i remember an earlier internet that was about communication, and creativity and connection…and not sales.
angry because in the same moment i felt that burning knife of emotion (what is that emotion i was feeling on behalf on these women…was it humiliation? was it shame? was i wrong to be feeling any of these things?) upon seeing those pictures, i felt the searing thrill (and guilt) that comes from my own patron-funded privilege. iv’e built this thing, i’ve used crowdfunding to great effect, and i so i don’t really have to consider any of this stuff, because i don’t….really need it. if a vegan face cream came to me and offered me $10k to try it and film the results on instagram, i have the privilege of saying hell no but thanks.
if i am an “influencer”, i want to be the kind of “influencer” that influences people to think really hard about how they use their internet, and what kind of moral compass we wanna have when it comes to using our reach. i want to be the kind of “influencer” who teaches people to be super-sharp and media-literate, with a bullshit detector nine miles high. i want to influence people away from the pain that the internet is causing.
if you’re wondering where i’m going with all this, i want to go back to wendy’s post, the bit that i quoted up at the very top of this post:
“By my definition, a patron is anyone who supports another in the authentic unfolding of self.”
I’ve been writing (in private over the past few weeks, for the text in the THERE WILL BE NO INTERMISSION artbook) about the grand ballet that encompasses my circumstances, my family, my creative process, my pitfalls and joys, and this patreon. and how it all dances together in a kind of unified, fateful harmony.
i started this patreon when i was pregnant with ash, and shortly before anthony died.
one of my first long, substantial patreon posts was not about art, process or upcoming collaborators: it was about anthony’s death, and what it felt like to be there. i was almost seven months pregnant. i pretty much picked up where my book left off, assumed my audience was continuing to read (and to be interested in the story) and kept on writing, using this platform as a way to publish my ongoing thoughts.
i didn’t know how my audience would feel about any of this, but i also figured that i wasn’t here to “make people happy”, and i wasn’t here to convince anybody that my art-unfolding-self was worth paying for. i was here because some people had already decided that my art-unfolding-self was worth paying for, and now it was time, in whatever way i could imagine, to fucking unfold.
there’s a lot of blur in the world, my loves.
there’s the blur between “art” and “commerce”, there’s the blur between “art” and “life”, there’s the blur between “life” and “performance”, there’s the blur between “me” and “you”….and every one of these blurs is something i’ve dabbled in. and it’s towards this amorphous blur that those instagram stories all point their strange, questioning fingers.
“….a patron is anyone who supports another in the authentic unfolding of self.”
that spoke to me. so deeply.
the authentic unfolding of self.
that’s what this all has been, these past years, and i’ve used your collective unconditional love to do my unfolding. i've unfolded myself through deaths, and births, and abortions, and a miscarriage, and i'll continue unfolding, and reflecting on all that unfolding....with your help.
this is true patronage, and real love. project by project, i’ve used your help to pay my staff, manger and art-collaborators to help me steer this unfolding-ship WAY outside the “safe” harbor, far out of the tiny little crammed port of failing record labels, declining music sales, angry spotify-streaming battles, youtube advertisements, and “branding partnerships”, and, instead, into a wide, fresh-air ocean of freedom, where the course in uncharter, where the maps are scrawled and quickly tossed overboard, and the waves roar dark and foamy under the blazing starry sky of unknownness. where me and my artistic collaborators scream and laugh in our ramshackle, duct-taped floating-pirate-playhouse, enjoying homemade rum and using every penny and resource we’ve got to keep the ship afloat, and keeping the art and the message real and true.
this is what you’ve helped me do.
i hope you understand this:
you’ve helped me stay afloat, and you’ve helped me stay real.
…………….
enough with the emo bit it’s over.
stop crying. and so will i.
......
what's coming?
the upcoming year is going to be so different from the last three: for the first time since starting the patreon, it’s going to be very album-focused. i’m going to be going on a full world tour for the first time sine starting the patron (and since having a kid). you are all part of the journey….i’m bringing you all with me, whether you’re able to make it to a show or not.
beyond the standard Things you can expect from an album-release year (songs from the record, the record itself, the lone b-side, the music videos), i want to really utilize the patreon to its full capacity to give you a flavor of this year, this tour, this whole undertaking of THERE WILL BE NO INTERMISSION. there WILL BE no fucking intermission. i plan on detailing the tour journey for you, i plan to stream at least two of the shows if possible, i plan to talk a LOT about the songs and what’s behind them, and if all goes well, i plan to do a podcast (using patreon funding) to explode each song on the record with different special guests who can talk about the themes with me. i am really, really fucking excited for this year.
i’ve never gone into a record feeling safer, stronger, unshakeable, and more understood. because of you all.
if i have ANY time on the side (i really don’t know if i will), i want to do some more long-form writing….but we’ll see. it may be too much to try juggling that, a three-year old, and a world tour. if nothing else, i’ll be blogging the shit outta ya.
so hang on, my loves.
it’s going to be a wild ride this year, and i need you with me.
my gratitude to you all knows no bounds.
……
and
here’s some good year-end news for you.
as a community, we donated about $29,200 across these charities:
Chernobyl Children’s Fund
March For Our Lives
Everytown Support Fund For Gun Safety
The NRDC (National Resource Defense Council)
The NOW Foundation (for women’s rights)
and
The Alliance for Choice
….via various patreon projects, either directly through my “thinging” on patreon and donated a percentage, or through project downloads on bandcamp that i was able to divert fully or in part to charity since the patreon dough covered the projects costs:
i want you to look at that number: almost $30k, and really think about it. that’s not MY money: that’s YOUR MONEY, technically, i just passed it on to people who really needed it. it gave me huge pleasure to do so, and i love this way of giving. it’s one thing to donate to my usual charities from own bank account (and i do…i have my annual giving-list to planned parenthood, and NPR, and the other groups and candidates who come in need throughout the year). but it’s another to feel like part of my job here is being trusted to pay it forward.
and we do.
………
here's the usual patreon nerdiness:
HOW THE PATREON HAS GROWN THIS MONTH....
as of this writing there are 14,514 patrons pledging $57,358 for the first THING of the month.
there are SO MANY NEW PEOPLE, probably all here because of the tour pre-slaes and the artbook and other access reasons...and goddamn, I LOVE YOU ALL.
patreon charges you monthly/retroactively, meaning that you get billed on the 1st of the month for all the Things released the month prior (for example, you'll get charged for the Things released in december on january 1st).
so i don't have figures for this month just yet, but here's november, below.
i say this every month, but if you're new....because people have their pledges capped (HAVE YOU NOT CAPPED YOUR PLEDGE? if you are on a budget, you SHOULD, and here's the tutorial again), the first Thing raises the most money, and anything released thereafter raises less and less. (and....I LIKE THIS. it means i never feel too guilty about release too much art).
the numbers below are gross. not net. basic math. meaning: it's the money raised before fees were deducted by patreon and is not the total deposited to me. patreon takes a 5% fee (which they use to build and sustain the platform, which is GOOD) and then there's a payment processing fee, which varies on a ton of factors and is usually between 5-9% of the total collected.
also, none of this reflects the money i SPENT MAKING THE ART, running my business, paying all the collaborators, etc etc etc.
i don't share that level of nitty-detail-stuff with you because i assume it would bore you to fucking tears. but you can trust me: paying for a full-time staff, office, manager, accountant, and massive team of art-collaborators ain't cheap. sometimes we barely break even. so be it. we have freedom, and this is awesome.
.....
in november, i Thinged two Things:
"Anti-Ukulele Anthem" video with Andrew O'Neill was the first Thing and it earned about $49,887 from 11,764 patrons.
The State of All The Things: November 2018 was the third and final Thing of the month and it earned about $24,634 from 7,639 patrons
(we say "about" because patreon may be still trying to process some pledges that have yet to go through...we never know, you know.)
.......
AND...
END OF YEAR NOTES FROM TEAM AFP.
afp here, in italics.
i gotta say, i really like that the team has a reason to check in once a month on these Althing posts...i actually really enjoy reading these missives myself, a lot, because i learn things that might otherwise get lost in the shuffle. i work myself to the bone, and i often don't look up to see that i'm working so hard that i'm exhausting my staff. their dedication to me, to you, and to all of this has been particularly hardcore this year - everyone has sacrificed time, energy, attention to outside lives and relationships....but also, this is an office-wide, life-wide blur. you don't take a job like this to clock in 9-5, get your paycheck and go to the bar to grumble about your boss. well, i'm sure there's plenty of grumbling about the boss...but i see with mine own two eyes that hayley, michael and alex believe 100% in the mission of making the world a better place through art, and they're all willing to dance on the fence of sanity with me. i owe them so much. without them, this community wouldn't have a foundation.
and so....
from hayley...who has been my right-hand gal in the office, helping me co-ordinate the endless work of running a huge network of people and patrons and content. she's a super-ninja in every department, remembering things t(and people) hat everyone else has forgotten, keeping the trains running on time, and doing everything from copy-editing to running the entire ship sometimes when it's taking on water. hayley: this whole community is so blessed to have you, and i am super grateful for everything you've done and continue to do. xxxx
Dear Patrons-
As the new year approaches, I look back in reflection with a charge to move forward to start 2019 off with the momentum we’ve built now.
There have been days that have been utterly exciting, days that have been strange in a good way, full of joy, gratitude, and excitement, and days filled with wonder and pride. There have also been days where the wall is hit hard, when nothing seems to work, days that are frustrating, challenging, defeating and uninspiring. There have been so many days, 365 of them, in fact. And through this year, we helped Amanda make a lot of good art, and more than that, we made a lot of people happy in the process, and for me, that’s what I call a good year. I hope that all of you have some time to reflect and muse about the year that has passed and use it to help propel you forward into the new year ahead. Be kind, above all, and use your powers for good.
Team AFP is very small, but I often remark that we are a mighty team. We bend over backwards to take care of each other, we have endless depths of compassion and consideration for Amanda’s community (on Patreon or not), and we are damn good at what we do – as individuals, and as a unit.
So to end this year, I want to extend some gratitude to the team:
Thank you Amanda, for helming this hearty ship and for building the world in which we live; and in doing so, never backing down on What Is Right, and always, ALWAYS caring very deeply about what it is your doing, how you’re doing and it and for whom you are doing it for (and similarly, for whom you are not doing it for), you are hosting the party that we are all here to attend – thank you for all that you do and for you who are.
Thank you Jordan, for herding cats and getting The People what They Need (whomever the people may be in the moment, and whatever it is that They Need), it’s hard to juggle all the balls in the air, and your help and collaboration is essential in helping this ship float.
Thank you Nick, Brittney, Braxton, and Megan at Fame House, for your endless patience, dedication, and expertise - Art In The Mail could not exist as a real thing without you, nor could lots of other things (and Things!), thank you all for your generous help, and for your excellent sense of humors.
Thank you Alex, for being so dedicated and thoughtful to your work and the people you directly help out in your day to day, your heart is big and it shines brightly.
Thank you Michael, for working alongside me in the trenches (in New York and wherever we find ourselves hunched over laptops and texting on phones), for having my back and providing support to me (Amanda, and the whole team), for being thoughtful, and considerate, for being fun and funny at the best moments, and for being so caring and sincere.
And lastly, thank you to all of YOU – each patron who reads these little updates, each patron I’ve met in person, exchanged emails or messages with, for every kind thought and gesture and joke, thank you for making this team and this community feel like a family.
Happy New Year!
<3,
Hayley
(Amanda, Michael and me backstage at the Home for the Holidays event)
i wanted to post this little photo that hayley gave to me for christmas...it's of the two of us at the mermaid parade. it guards my bookpile now. love you, hayley.
........
and from michael...who has been the world's best assistant this year. i can't count the number of times he's gona above and beyond, saved my ass, and withheld judgement as i'd stumbled through the obstacle course of life and logistics. michael: a million thanks for hanging in there with me.
Hello Patrons!
Wrapping up a year’s worth of work in a single post is daunting to say the least! What to talk about, how to summarize, how to distill 2018 into a few paragraphs? I’ve been sitting looking at a blank page on my computer for several days now trying to figure out what to write and this morning I decided to listen to the very wise words of Neil Gaiman: “Just keep going. Anything you write can be fixed, but you can’t fix a blank page.” So here goes.
It’s the last day of 2018. 365 down and 0 to go. What we here at Team AFP were able to accomplish in one revolution around the sun is truly astonishing. Just to remind myself of it all, I took the time to flip through my Google Calendar week by week and really track everything that has happened in such a short time. If you keep a calendar, I highly recommend doing that now. It’s pretty satisfying, isn’t it?
To start it all off, we rang in 2018 with a huge performance/party at Brooklyn Bazaar. From there we went straight to New Orleans for another show and for the filming of Judy Blume, then off to Cape Town, then Johannesburg, then NYC, Woodstock, Seattle, Vancouver, London, San Francisco, NYC, Edinburgh, etc, etc, etc. Everywhere Amanda went music, videos, and art were made. Things were Thinged. Concerts were performed. An Album was recorded. It was a non-stop year.
I have to say that working with this fantastic team, being a part of the creative process, and seeing all of these things happen in real time is pretty amazing. But make no mistake, it is work, and sometimes it is really, really hard. There are days when it all seems too much, too overwhelming, too much of a constant and unending cycle of stress and worry and frustration. There are definitely days when I question why I’m putting myself, my partners and my family through this, why I’m dedicating so many hours a week to a job, which is something I promised myself I would never do.
But then. . . then I read some of your comments on a post, or I meet one of you after a concert and share a hug, or I reach out to someone on Facebook to hear their story, or I listen to a new song that Amanda has written, or an old song in a new way because of what’s going on in my life and I find myself breaking down crying. Then I realize that while it is work, and it can be brutally hard, it’s not just a job. It’s all done in the pursuit of and for the creation of the art. We all work so hard because knowing that you all are out there changing the world, making a difference, and spreading love and art helps to keep all of us going. Knowing that the music and the art that this Team and Amanda create keeps you centered, keeps you going, helps you recharge, relax, or simply feel seen makes it all more than worth it.
So, I guess all that I have left to say is to echo Hayley and say thank you. Thank you for the cards, for the hugs, for the comments, for the art, for all your support in 2018. Thank you to this incredible team of ours. Thank you to Amanda for being the amazing creator that she is, thank you to Jordan for somehow managing to -for lack of a better word- manage all of us. Thank you to Kristin and her team for keeping us paid and in the black. Thank you to all the amazing folks at Fame House for all the work that you do behind the scenes. Thank you to Justine for always being there, I know we'll continue to be in each other's lives, but your day to day presence will be missed more than you even know. Thank you to Alex, for being the wonderful shining light of positivity and ingenuity that you are. Thank you to Hayley, without you I really don’t know how we would function, and a mere thank you will never be enough. And thank you, yes, you. Whoever you are, if you’re reading this then you are part of this family and even though we are almost 15,000 strong, you as an individual are helping in your own way and it is appreciated.
Looking towards 2019 and all the madness that an Album Release and a Global Tour entails, I keep reminding myself that in the end, even with no intermission, it will all be worth it.
Love and hugs,
Michael
love you, michael.
........
and from alex....who has become an even tighter-knit part of the AFP family...running the facebook group, packing many boxes and writing many beautiful type-written notes...and selling many merches at many tables. alex, i adore you more with every passing year and i can't wait for you to come a-merching on the UK tour. we're very lucky to have you...xxxx
Dear Patrons,
This month has probably been the busiest month for me since I started working for AFP 2 and a half years ago. The first 2 weeks of the month were jam-packed with posting ALL OF THE ORDERS TO ALL OF THE PLACES. Over 500 parcels were sent out this month, between new Dresden Dolls merch, Black Friday sales, the release of Electric Blanket, and the AFP Holiday card.
Every single order placed through the UK AFP and Dresden Dolls stores are hand-packed by me, meaning my lounge ended up looking like this for most of the month:
Aside from the packing, I've also been working with a new company to set up a BRAND SPANKING NEW store for the UK AFP merchandise, coinciding with the launch of the pre-order for There Will Be No Intermission.
The new album pre-orders have also seen a massive growth in the official AFP patron facebook group - moderated by myself and Hayley, as well as two wonderful friends of Team AFP, Marjolein and Mary. We have a beautiful little community growing there, full of discussion and sharing and support. If you aren't there yet, come join up, introduce yourself, and make yourself at home! We would love to have you.
So in conclusion, I want to echo Hayley's lovely words and thoughts about the whole team - I think for such a small team, we have had a hell of a lot of success this year. Here's to 2019, and even more successes with a brand new album and world tour! I look forward to seeing some of you out there on facebook, on email, in your mailboxes, or out on the road <3
-Alex Knight
UK Merch Queen @ Team AFP
http://shopuk.amandapalmer.net
http://www.amandapalmer.net
love you alex, and.......
(i'm now out of italics.....)
I LOVE MY WHOLE TEAM SO MUCH. this is the best incarnation of team AFP i've ever seen....and i'd be nowhere without them. thank you all, so much. and i echo the thanks to everyone at famehouse (nick especially) and to jordan, who workes tirelessly behind the scenes. we're a lucky fucking team.
...........
WITH THAT, my loves..i leave you to have a beautiful new years eve.
filled with love, learning, submitting letting go, rolling up sleeves, and KICKING. FUCKING. ASS.
i love the shit out of all of you.
thank you for supporting me in the authentic unfolding of my SELF.
may we all unfold, fearlessley and upheld by any arms with can find, with grace and glamour this year.
open for comments.
lay it on me. i’ll be reading for the next few days. don’t be afraid to comment to each other. we‘re all fronds here.
xxx
AFP
p.s. here is ash asleep with joan didion this morning.
------THE NEVER-ENDING AS ALWAYS---------
1. if you’re a patron, please click through to comment on this post. at the very least, if you’ve read it, indicate that by using the heart symbol.
2. see All the Things i've made so far on patreon: http://amandapalmer.net/patreon-things
3. join the official AFP-patron facebook group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/afpland
4. new to my music and TOTALLY OVERWHELMED? TAKE A WALK THROUGH AMANDALANDA….we made a basic list of my greatest hits n stuff on this lovely page: http://amandalanda.amandapalmer.net/
5. general AFP/patreon-related questions? ask away, someone will answer: patronhelp@amandapalmer.net