Closed Until Summer, Closed, Out Of Business, For Rent Lease or Buy. Signs of the times.

 

I am glad that I live in a positive community. We're witnessing bad news. The oldest bar in town is closed for the season. A supermarket, a very nice pharmacy, and an artist coop gallery are empty. Many worry if they will ever come back. Many are worried about their paychecks and wallets. But many are also taking the opportunity to challenge the norm and redefine the future.

 

Within the last few weeks:

 

I've attended Transition Whidbey's monthly potluck, where over a hundred people got together, had dinner, sang songs, and then brainstormed ways to build, not just discuss, sustainable community. Organic farmers find manure. Artists trade surplus supplies. People become friends emotionally supporting each other.

 

I've watched one organization step up with cash, offering to help another organization that had a facility and an active community but a scrawny wallet.

 

I've worked with friends to begin building innovative, small, businesses that can be started with a few bucks and make many more. Businesses built from electrons come together quickly and don't need permits, just licenses and energy.

 

I had enthusiastic students for a class on Modern Self-Publishing. Some showed up expecting a casual class, got that, but left with a realization that they already had what they needed to open a product line worth hundreds, thousands of dollars. And I've been asked to teach it again. People want to get ideas moving.

 

One dinner was simply friends gathering to find ideas that we knew we could generate, but without agenda. A short meal later there were other places for businesses to grow, and collaborations which were revealed from casual conversation and an awareness of overlooked possibilities. Sometimes dancers get so busy dancing they don't get the chance to learn about what happens outside the dance hall.

 

Friends are taking those casual conversations, taking a lesson from Transition Whidbey's potlucks, and organizing regular brainstorming sessions around food, a fireplace, and some wine.

 

These conversations are being held by people who are enthusiastic, upbeat, and in need of income. It is one thing to sit around and have fun brainstorming when pockets and bellies are full. There is no real risk of loss, merely missed gains. It is another thing to have such conversations amongst true need, where bills must be paid, food bought, and life maintained.

 

It is too easy in such dire times to worry, become depressed, get angry, and shout blame at the past. I've been there and visit it on occasion. But it is heartening to see one person support another, and then others build on that positivity until a community collectively and informally decides that the past didn't work and that we, we, can redesign our future.

 

One set of conversations began linking up in unexpected ways within the last few days. It turns out that there is a lot of interest in building the infrastructure that truly encourages the arts. Local artists like the idea. The school district can take advantage of the resource. The tourists are more drawn to witness and participate in art-in-action than they are to simply visit galleries. And an island community can build an economy from local resources and residents by generating beauty. Maybe no one has all of the money, but artists renting space, a school saving money by only having to pay a portion, a local government that knows the value of investing in itself, and contributions from a few patrons, can do amazing things.

 

And it turns out that this is a good time for such a facility. You see, there is space available.

 

What do you know? That sounds like, Dream, Invest, Live. Catchy concept.