Question No. 14: Does it make sense to frontload any one performer in the Glow Festival, who might have a better chance of filling houses. Should you also put this out to Provincetown people and tell them to please ask you for some complimentary ferry tickets? Should you see if any of the Cambridge hotels—like say the Sheraton Commander—might give you a discount on rooms you can pass along to people.
I think what I need to do is tap into the Boston/Provincetown crowd which, frankly, I don’t know all that well. I sometimes imagine I’m going to go through my four thousand plus friends on Facebook and actually know who lives where and does what and to make some kind of picture of my virtual friendship landscape. Certainly get a handle on people’s geography but also their walks of life. I would love to know who is in publishing or who is in fashion or who is in marketing or what kind of crossover is going on between friends and so forth. It all remains such a mystery to me, but sometimes when clicking through I get these flashes that each of these virtual relationships, as many as they are, can take on more meaning despite the fact that the trend is going to go away from Facebook and this level of knowingness with which we’ve become comfortable. I quite agree, but what if one were to nurture even the relationships we’ve never really had—to turn our social media friendships into some version of real ones—they can never be truly real—but they needn’t be as casual as all that.
It’s getting to the point with me where I’m feeling a wave of increased abundance happening like a ground swell underneath the whole of my experience. I also know from experience that this can be an illusion or a trigger. All too often I don’t adhere to a healthy lifestyle at times when nobody is looking. It hasn’t mattered in the past that I was looking at those times. And as these pockets of alone time have become more frequent I don’t feel that same need to indulge while all eyes are off me. I don’t need to consume everything in my scopes. I don’t need to binge watch whole seasons of shows that originally aired a decade ago. I can do things I typically do in tandem when I’m alone. (This is a big step for me.) It’s as if I feel guilty or something for enjoying an experience unless I share it with those I love. And, given the fact that “those I love” is narrowed down, to any given day, to one person, my life on the whole has the qualities of isolution, often, even though it is peopled with a great number of those I know but a little.
I would like to create some kind of network but its not as if my career allows for many colleagues. I’m only one of two people who do what I do, and the other person is in the same house as me. And we don’t do just one thing. We each do a dozen things, and even where there is overlap, both of us working under the one aegis, we work separately, in different rooms, on different floors of a house and meet up for meals and coffee and walks and welcome interuptions.