Doing One Thing, Thinking Another

I'm posting pictures of the two scarves I painted with the new dyes, which both need more work somehow, though I am more than satisfied with the quality of the black background. Yay for expensive, concentrated dyes. Also the two big Jell-O flowers I have completed, though there is a lot happening on the Jell-O front which I will talk about in another entry.

While I've been working with my hands, my mind has been on this situation downtown regarding the possible closure of 8th Street on Saturdays in order for the farmers to expand their footprint into it. I have much more to say than I can in this or any forum, due to the last few years I've spent sitting at their board meetings taking minutes. I do consider many of the farmers to be my friends and as I said in my last entry, I think there is an elegant solution regarding their site issues, which shall be found in group discussions to come, if we get to hold some. So far, they have decided to push for this change on their own, without working with us at all.

Our common goal, the two organizations that set up across the street from each other, is to thrive. Saturday Market started the Farmers' Market to ensure that fresh produce always would be a part of our scene, and to support local producers of food, and over the years there have been many commonalities and differences which would fill several pages. We had a "gentlemen's agreement" that our organization would not sell produce, and theirs would not have restaurant booths, or sell crafts. Several years ago LCFM let us know that the agreement was over, and they started their food booths.

It was a unilateral decision and we didn't have a way to alter it. Clearly they felt it was necessary for them to thrive, and it has indeed shown to be a good decision for them. Our Saturday Market International Food Court is a solid and respected destination which has no equal, so it didn't turn out to be that much of a big deal, in most respects. However, it eroded the trust when the decision wasn't made cooperatively, and it set up several situations that have now started to really grate.

It is well known that most of the public attendees do not see us as two markets, but assume we are one entity. There are several important differences, however, and they are becoming part of a bigger issue, that of whether or not we can work together. Let me be clear that as individuals, many of us do indeed work together quite well, and there are lots of things going on besides this one decision on whether or not 8th St should be closed to traffic. But this is a big deal.

One difference between the two markets is that we at SM have one basic tenet, that the Maker is the Seller. All of our members make their own products, and we are there to tell you all about it if you want to know. We have had our hands on each thing you buy. Many of the farmers are also there in person, but their guidelines allow employees, and direct agents. So you may be served by a retail clerk over there, someone who is being paid a wage to sell to you, who may or may not have any direct connection to the product. That's why you see one of the biggest breweries in the state, and bakeries who have storefronts in other parts of town. As local food producers, their businesses squeak into their guidelines even though the owners/makers of the products are seldom present.

This might not seem to be a concern, but the value of our niche is priceless. There are very few handcrafted markets like us, in the world. We cherish that and work hard to protect it. So when our guidelines don't extend across the street, that is a smallish problem, but when our guidelines don't extend to a booth right next to another booth (such as would be the case if they had booths in the street right behind ours) that is a big problem for us in keeping our niche and our identity clear.

Another of our tenets is equality. Everyone gets an 8x8, or a 4x4 if they choose. The farmers use 10x10s, and they can occupy one, two, or three, and they also have those "truck spaces" on Park, which are 10x20 or longer. This has created different classes of vendors, and their equality of membership is skewed. This also confuses our customers, who don't notice any difference, but then tend to see us as small, and less powerful little businesses, instead of the equal little businesses we in fact are. Again, not a big problem, but in the new space would their booths get even bigger? It just doesn't seem compatible with our village.

Furthermore, at SM we all pay the same, $10, plus 10% of our earnings, (on the honor system, btw). That way, if I do well, the Market does well. When I do well, this fee structure gives us collectively the money to provide things that are important to us, such as member and customer services, our fabluous staff and infrastructure, upgrades in our equipment, and to do future planning, have savings, and to be in a stable financial situation. It also makes our market friendly for people just starting out, getting smaller, or trying to make it on the financial edge. We're a business incubator, and there are literally thousands of small businesses and artists who have started at SM, some of whom are still there. Like me, a 35-year member. When we had our bigger manufacturing business, I was still able to sell at Market, as long as what I brought to sell was the portion of my stuff that I actually did make myself. You don't have to leave when you get big, but you can't send your employee down so that you can stay in the factory and manage things. You have to be there in person.

It has been a rough decade for the farmers, and they are just pulling out of it to a more stable place. Last winter, though, they changed their fee structure to a flat fee of $40 per 10x10. That means when someone does well, they take it home with them. If they do badly, they take somewhat of a loss, particularly if they make only a few hundred dollars, which many do. The bigger produce people often make thousands, so their market fees are low, and they're happy, but many of the smaller ones are struggling even more. Not my problem, but it disturbs me.

This fee change has resulted in some happy vendors (the big ones), but no surplus of funds for many of the services they previously enjoyed. Some haven't been missed, but the result of others is that in practice, Saturday Market is paying these costs for them. We are doing the vast majority of promotions and advertising, bringing those customers down reliably for both markets. We are working our Sustainability Committee to bring durable flatware (forks and spoons), locally made canvas bags, and the fabulous garbage sorting system that has kept tons and tons of compostable garbage out of the landfill, and that is really popular in Eugene and with the tourists. We have hired security to handle the problems that just come up with the volume of people who attend, we have worked on strategies to minimize the negative impact of some of the activities at the Courthouse Plaza, and we have worked to have excellent relationships with the City, County, and our neighbors so that everyone can thrive through our efforts. We even powerwash the Park Blocks and clean the Free Speech Plaza. They don't.

So LCFM has, in my opinion, been skating for the last few years. Possibly they are in the process of stepping up to the plate on some of these things, and in any case, they get to make their own decisions about what to spend their money on. But this is part of the simmering discomfort we have with them, and a few reasons why the possible giant increase in their footprint is problematic. Will they begin providing these extra services, or we will get even more things to pay for to take up the slack? I'm complaining, as an individual, that I don't want to pay their way. I don't want my identity muddled with their corporate booths, and I particularly don't want them right next to me.

So there, I said some of the things that are below the surface of this issue that is mostly about parking spaces and access and loading problems. Like the parent of a teenager, I want this offspring to mature. I want them to pull their own weight and look around them at the problems they are or might be causing. I'm not saying they have to buy into all of the things we think are important on our side of the street, but they have got to see that moving into closer proximity with us has its problems. Either we cooperate better, and get more of our decision-making onto the same page, or we are going to have increasing divisiveness. This will not be good for any of us.

We have over 600 members in our organization. We can't all set up at once, and we have limited our physical growth for some carefully considered reasons. We don't want to grow too fast or too large to keep in place the things that have shown themselves to be important for our longterm health and prosperity. We haven't survived for 40 years by rushing into lovely fantasies that seem like good ideas on the surface, and then try to fix them later when the problems turn out to be knotty. Change comes slowly to our market, and that has worked really well for us. It took many years for us to make the move from the Butterfly to the Park Blocks. Lots of people had to agree to it, from the top of City government to the last blanket vendor, and had to be willing to pay for it.

Sorry if I've said too much, but most of my twenty or so readers already know how I feel about most of this stuff. I'm going back into my land of Jell-O art and painting plants, so have a lovely weekend, everyone. If we have more of this warm weather, hallelujah, but if it rains I won't mind. I fertilized all of my gardens this week and it would be good if it got watered in. It's almost time to plant peas!

Saturday, Saturday

Saturdays during the offseason feel weird in a wonderful way. It's sort of a day off, house-cleaning day like for most people, though I seldom really take a day off from work, because my work encompasses so many different activities. A few years ago I had the satisfying realization that almost all of my activities dovetailed into a progressive effort that could bear the plebeian title of keeping me alive and prospering. The delightful part was that none of my work was at crosspurposes--nothing got in the way of the progress of any other part. If I was working on the house or garden, that was providing the space, inspiration, and comfort for my body to work on the retail stuff or the art stuff. Reading was advancing the writing, writing was advancing the t-shirt ideas, and all of my art forms were being refined and my skills improved, so that my whole life was a multi-faceted work of art.

I started taking pictures of my ordinary space and days, just marking things that wouldn't matter on a big scale but kind of mattered on the little scale. Since I live alone and my son is in a phase of life that doesn't include much interest in his parents, no one will ever probably see these photos, or read the many daily journal entries that are just my processing of whatever is happening in my life or my mind. I'm not really doing it for any reason except that it marks things for me. One of the functions of other people in our lives is that they hold our memories (however inaccurately), and they keep track of us. Lots of people use Facebook or online blogs to serve this function, though again maybe no one really reads or cares much about those entries. After I'm gone, or pretty quickly even while I'm here, these entries scroll down into the archives which very few people will discover or care about. Nothing really matters very much.

That's not a comforting thought, and generally we find things that seem to matter to keep that thought at bay. All those yellow and green people downtown today think that their football team and all the energy and expense around that is vital to their lives. It may well be, but in my life, none of that stuff commands much of my attention. I like parades, but I'm not really tempted to go down and hear all the passionate yelling and feelgood stuff surrounding what I think is a war game. I wouldn't mind hearing that gospel choir, because gospel music is really uplifting to the spirit, but I just get an emotional response from the energy of the music, not from any religious passion or comfort thinking about the divine. Though I was raised Catholic, I find religious thinking alienating and superficial, and that part bothers me. I do like to hear the voices raised in joy, but I don't enjoy the we-win-you-lose paradigm, or the concept that we are the only ones who matter.

I guess the point I'm circling is that we all have many fantasies about what is important, and tend to forget that those things are seldom important in the same way to anyone else. People like to reinforce their fantasies with conformism, insisting that the importance is universally shared and is reality. I'm here to say that the Ducks and the Church are not important to me, along with lots of other things like what couples do, and romantic love, and Wal-mart, and I could go on, but my point is made. We all live in our own worlds. We all star in our own movies, but we forget that most people are just watching their own movies, and what we are the star of is a tiny piece of a super long film.

That's one reason our society and world are so imperfectly run. It's difficult to take actions while considering that almost everything we think is not indeed fact, but opinion. We tend to operate as if it were fact. We get so passionate about our versions of truth. If no one is present who thinks differently, we tend to run with our version as if it really were universal.

That's one reason I'm committed to consensus-seeking decision-making. Each person brings a piece of the truth, and everyone is equal at that table. At Saturday Market meetings, we sit at a big round table and that ensures that we don't line up on two sides of an issue. As soon as someone is perceived as sitting at the head of the table, a hierarchy forms that doesn't serve good decision-making. And as soon as we defer to the majority, we cut off some of the most vital parts of whatever the action is, because we cut out the minority.

I can be public about an issue now that KLCC interviewed the city planner who heads a Citizen's Advisory Committee regarding the funds granted to the farmers market for infrastructure improvement. Basically this committee was hijacked by a few members who became convinced that closing 8th St. to traffic and filling it with the farmers' booths was the most wonderful idea ever brought to the Eugene table, even though it was not an infrastructure improvement and not within the charge of that committee. I will leave it to them to point out all the ways this is a fabulous idea, and say now that I don't agree, and a large portion of the 600+ members of the Saturday Market also do not agree. The committee got seduced by the idea, but they had agreed to work by consensus, and our SM manager did not agree, and blocked the consensus. This was not an easy thing to do, because at least three of the members of that committee were skilled at manipulating, dominating, bullying, hyperbole, and marginalizing and insulting those who did not agree with them. It was shocking to watch. I've been shocked by this kind of group behavior for a year or so as I watched the farmers work through their challenges. Sometimes it was not intentional or done with self-awareness, but came out of mainstream, conformist thinking, which is definitely not my tradition.

I could be wrong, and it could turn out that this closing the street idea is a good one, but without the process of involving the people using the space, it will not be a well-thought-out idea. Imposing a fantasy on a situation that is doing just fine could kill it in various ways, and at least those ways have to be explored in the decision-making process. The Saturday Market community does not make wild concept-type plans without thoroughly examining the details and all the pieces of truth that all of the stakeholders bring to the big round table. We don't permit manipulators and bullies to sit at our table. or at least we don't grant them any power. We welcome dissent, but you have to bring your manners and your fairness with you. We are not making lives where there are only two sides to any argument.

So a bunch of us went to the committee meeting and sat there. We just wanted our presence acknowledged, and even though the manipulators tried to frame us as coming in combat to dominate, that isn't what we were doing. We were just witnesses to say that we refuse to allow such an important decision to be made by a few people whose tactics are not inclusive.

We are inclusive. We thrive because we let in as many people as we can, while defining a framework that sets us apart from the mainstream. You can't buy your way in and you can't bully your way in, and if you cheat you will be found out eventually. You are welcome to take part in all of the processes that make us such a successful and thriving business model. You are welcome to bring your tiny piece of the truth, but you will be forced to keep in mind that you are tiny, and not bigger than our tiniest voice.

We don't sell out and we don't respond to pressure. We're not going anywhere. We're strong in our diversity and in our collective power. You can work with us, or work around us, but you won't walk over us. And we are good at looking into the darkness and calling things like we see them.

So yeah, let's make this decision about how to get the LCFM needs met. First we are going to let all of the stakeholders weigh in, and then we are not going to take a majority vote. There is more than one right way, and we will take the time to find it. Everyone can win, when no one has to lose. This is called crafting an elegant solution. We are craftspeople. We will build the elegant solution, but not with a big hammer.

Pure pleasure

I've been totally seduced by Jell-O. I've spent most of the last week making gorgeously colored, thin wavy graceful curving pieces of wings, flowers, and various magical parts that now fill my living room in stages of completion.

I sent this lovely piece to my Mom for her 85th birthday. It's about 8 inches in diameter. I know she doesn't need a useless piece of beauty but then again, what could she want more? It certainly beats an arrangement of dying foliage and blooms made and dropped off by strangers. It's not as good as a visit, of course, but I was just there in September.

Naturally I am observing my obsession and immersion in play but I've convinced myself that this is my truest art form and I'm just going for it. There's nothing this free, for me. Since gelatin art is not on the spectrum of fine art that is worth money, there is no structure of criticism for it and no interface with the world of investors and collectors, so it just is what it is.

And it is so pleasurable to look at it and fit the pieces together and watch them distort and curl as they dry. I laid out a version of my plan, which is to create a garden around this life-size figure, make and mount wings on her, and somehow create a life-size Radar Angel. I will probably attempt to make a self-portrait for a face, after I get farther along.

Celeste made the figure, and I have two of them, and I hope she gives me permission to mess with them. She also made a jacket out of ribbons and silk scraps which I might transform into some kind of tree trunk, maybe. Nothing is glued together yet, so the flowers might end up being rearranged and there will undoubtedly be many layers and pieces to the wings.

My process is just making strong Jell-O (actually just gelatin powder in hot water), then drying it in thin sheets in all of my baking pans and plastic tubs and lids, stacked up on top of my piano. You have to turn it a few times as it dries, and peel it off the glass or plastic when it is in the right mode to not be brittle. I sometimes will curl it up or fold it while it is flexible but mostly I just let it shape itself. My secret this year is two plastic bowls that are supposed to be big lettuce leaves I guess. You can see one in the picture of the figure, the aqua one at the bottom. I swirl the gelatin around in the bowl until it sets up, and when it comes out it looks like a rose.

The wings are about two feet tall, and will get bigger as I add ruffles and layers to make them stronger. I've almost used up that five pounds I bought. I'll need a lot more, maybe ten more pounds, so there is some value in it, but it's well worth it to me for the great amount of fun I've had. It will add up to a hundred dollars or so, not that much on the scale of things.

I'm halfway serious about having a Jell-O art Museum when I am old. I have years worth of dried stuff now, and don't want to stop. There's something about it, the accessibility, or the origin as an item from the kitchen, that appeals to me on every level. I find it so very beautiful.

I feel like I am way out in the woods somewhere, just me and my art, on retreat. I'm never coming back. Well, I guess I will have to, but not until April Fools.

Frabjous Joy

I'm super excited about this lovely off season, with all my plans for new work. I bought a huge pile of gorgeous, white silk scarves. I even got a few big pieces, some stone-washed crepe de chine, very luxurious. My thinking is that with more of them, I will be braver about trying new techniques and subjects, because if one doesn't work out I can do another. The standard ones I use only cost about $7 each, so not that much is wasted if I make a mistake. The very nicest ones cost less than $25, but I also got a lot of little hankies to make into flags that only cost a couple of bucks each. The potential is all there, and the artistic vision that I need to come up with to do it seems totally intimidating only about half the time.

I bought a new set of dyes, the kind that have to be steam-set, and I will work out making a steamer from a pressure cooker. Steaming can also be done in a microwave, though I don't have all the technical details thought completely through. It's not going to be that difficult. Like so many new things, the period of fearfulness or anxiety seems paramount until the thing is tried, and then the fears go away. Once I bought the new washer, I felt great about the decision.

The offseason irrationality is in place, so I'm being careful. Being in public working once a week, or twice during the Tuesday market, is very grounding and I miss it. I have my writing group, but probably need a couple more regular opportunities to work with other people. The SM Board met last night, and it was good to see folks and work together to solve problems, not that we have many of those. I volunteered to be more involved, because that is one arena of my life that I find pretty darn satisfying. The return is great for the time spent, and I think I get my primary sense of belonging from that organization, which I can't really separate from my life even if I try. It has made me who I am.

Things do come up, of course. Things brew and bubble up and then simmer back down. One of the advantages of age is that you have seen a few situations come and go and you are aware of the possibility that not all is as it appears. Sometimes things are scarier in the anticipation phase than they turn out to be. I already said that, though I'm talking about a whole different set of situations now. One thing I have learned to do is to try to take out the urgency. There is a saying used in counseling: Your crisis is not my immediacy. In other words, don't try to get me caught up in your drama. If you insist on making it dramatic, you are the one who will ultimately lose from that approach.

I've learned to make myself wait and consider things carefully. Impulsivity is usually not my friend. I'm particularly disinclined to make public statements before I'm completely sure of where I stand, and if I have all the information, if all the information is even available. One thing that complicates things immensely is people's motives. There do seem to be people who act manipulatively to get their needs met, or what they perceive to be their needs. All situations need people who can ask the right questions. Like, what are you afraid of, and what do you really need? What is the biggest problem, and will this solve it? What other things might happen if we do this, both good and bad?

In other words, process. Proper process is there for many reasons, one being to protect people who don't manipulate or think strategically from those who do. Without process, like bylaws, rules of order, meeting procedures, looking to precedent, and such, decision-making flounders around in chaos. I so appreciate the way SM is grounded in history, in careful, slow decision-making, and in what sometimes appears to be resistance to change. I like the concept of not fixing what isn't broken. If something is a good idea, it will persist.

It's intensely important to try to foresee the related changes that will come with changing one part of the complicated puzzle which is our event, or any large venture. We need extensive planning. There's a euphoria that comes with new possibilities and there is a tempting irrationality to jump on the train and ride, but I am really not that kind of person. I suppose I've missed many thrilling and risky opportunities by being earthbound and sensible, but I also think my attitude contributes to longevity. I have never wanted to die young and leave a good-looking corpse. I'm just not a risk-taker, and I only sometimes admire those who are.

I want studies, I want people to sit down and work through the pros and cons and make lists. I want lots of stakeholders to come into the process, all of them if possible. I don't want to just try something and see if it works, at least on a big scale. I'm a problem for the movers and shakers, but I want them to have to deal with me. I want them to ask me what I'm afraid of, and address it. Maybe my fears will not be realized, but if they are not heard, they will increase. People who don't feel listened to get increasingly irrational, I know that for a fact.

The offseason seems like a long, open stretch where things can be worked on at length and plans put in place without the urgency of performing every seven days. It goes by fast. We jump in at the beginning with our dreams and ideas, and sometimes we do make a little progress. Sometimes we end up with an improvement, sometimes a big one, but usually we find out that the plans are one thing and the implementation something altogether different. This is good to know. I will do my scarves one at a time, because I still have one that I started last tulip season that is unfinished, waiting for tulips. Of the pile of scarves I bought, I may actually finish only a few. My plans may be of that irrational type that seem solid but have hidden pitfalls that I didn't consider, because I jumped too fast and let the urgency take over my sensible nature.

I hope this does not happen on the bigger scale. There is a lot at risk in the big world, much more than a few white scarves. It is not lost on me that waving a white scarf is the international and age-old symbol of surrender.

It is also the honoring gift during exchanges of wisdom in places like Tibet. I'll save a few in case there is some peace to be made in the near future, or some visionaries to honor. Could be either, or both.