Plus...and especially if you are on a serious budget...

the temptation to get it for free is real.  And the inclination to NOT pay for it is real as hell too. 

However, I consider JM an artist.  Not just an entertainer.  And I consider myself a patron of his art.  This means I support him in a financial way.  So, purchasing the album/download is important. 

After all, we are the reason that our favorite artists can make a living - and sometimes an exceptionally great living - on their craft.  It’s a gutsy enough move to even try to live by one’s pen or guitar.  The least I can do as a fan is show my support with a few bucks in my budget.

Flex, you rock.

fortune cookie say, "you have a deep appreciation of the arts and music"

TRUESHIT.

I’m such a fucking patron and I love it.

I bought a piece of artwork from a napping guy at venice beach. it’s of a cat holding up its middle finger and then above it reads “funky pussy.” it was between that and a painting of a topless woman also displaying her middle finger with the text “don’t fuck with me I’m a goddess.”

decisions, decisions

And the Winner Is

By Paula Burba

Capital “t” theater, bawdy dinner theater and beaucoup festival-circuit films: I’ve seen it all lately. It’s like Louisville is wooing me and I’m falling for it. With no job yet plentiful time now for arts consumption, I’ve received generous cosmic grants lately, which I could not appreciate more.

Last month I saw “Sense and Sensibility” at Actors Theatre, courtesy of BFF Angie, who won tickets from a local magazine, proving that I will see anything at Actors. (In cups of tea, Jane Austen is like Earl Grey: I can drink it but would never choose it.)

Last week I saw “Death by Murder” at Derby Dinner Playhouse, courtesy of BFF Bill, who got tickets courtesy of his nephew. It was my first visit to DDP, which felt old Vegas a la Southern Indiana: sort of drama speakeasy hidden in a gigantic barn, ever-popular southern-fried buffet in back. A different kind of play than Actors (some dirty innuendo and potty humor), I appreciated it much more than I thought I would and genuinely enjoyed chatting with the couple sharing our table. Pleasant surprises all around.

Last weekend, I saw nine films in two days at the Louisville International Festival of Film, courtesy of MyLoueyville.com, who gave away a weekend pass in a Twitter contest — more than justifying my half-hearted attempt to join the tweeters.

At most screenings Bill and I were the only audience members not filmmakers. Sad. A few films were so terrible, I wanted to slap the fools who gave filmmakers any amount of money to make them, especially millions of dollars. We regretfully were laughing-out-loud assholes at one or two god-awful films before we realized filmmakers were in the house.

We saw: “Currency,” “Gus, An American Icon,” “Girls, Girls, Girls,” “Hollywood & Wine,” “Jaybird,” “These Amazing Shadows,” “Timeless,” “Soda Springs” and “American Sunset.”

Thumbs up: “Girls, Girls, Girls,” “These Amazing Shadows,” “Gus, An American Icon,” and “Timeless.” (Details tomorrow.) Most of the others were well-made but about as deep as a puddle, but thought they had an ocean’s worth of depth. Still others were less flawed and worth watching.

What I know about film festivals is jack, but frankly, the red-carpet premiere was disappointing: a formulaic comedy that wasn’t very funny and whose supporting cast out-shined its B-list stars (i.e., Norm Macdonald was funnier than Chris Kattan in “Hollywood & Wine,” and when I say “funnier,” it’s relative). That ho-hum premiere was followed by a party (we didn’t attend) at… Captain’s Quarters. Really? Captain’s Quarters?

Except for two events, I believe — Lily Tomlin opener (not part of my prize) and one screening at Churchill Downs — everything was within a four-block stretch of Main Street. But the party went way out east to Captain’s Quarters? It is a splendid deck and it’s closer to old money estates than downtown, I guess, but good lord! If you go one to ten blocks in either direction, there are possibilities for hipper parties downtown. Cue: Petula Clark.

Be A Patron

From the time when I was an adolescent tucked away in some corner poring over some book, I’ve occasionally had the thought “What this country really needs is a renaissance”; A resurgence of the appreciation for life as seen through patronizing the arts in all its forms; A collectively conscious idea that brings people together. 

I used to imagine what it would have been like to live in Venice or Milan during Europe’s Renaissance period. I used to fantasize about the beautiful things and beautiful conversations that happened there, then. And I used to assume that in order for the arts to be revered on a large, public scale there needed to a Borgia, Borghese or Medici behind it. But that was before the Internet.

Being a patron is free, now. “Like” a Blog, “friend” an artist, “Tweet” a creative-type. Start a conversation, read a book, visit a library, patronize society. Patronize culture. Patronize art. 

Thinking about future finances

I swear, once I have a steady job and start actually making surplus (as in leftovers after bills and food), I’m gonna start three piles of money.

Pile 1: money to pledge to Kickstarters
Pile 2: money to pay for art commissions from the amazing artists I see on Tumblr
Pile 3: Tools and materials for cosplay and steampunk

…too ambitious?  I mean with this MA I’m working on, and the next research degree I’m applying for, I’ll be pretty qualified for a job within the arts (as in museum/gallery practice).  I’m hoping to make enough money to become a kind of patron of the arts, but for internet artists.

Long story short, if I become rich, the money is going back to you guys… and cosplay cons.  Good idea?

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