These are the two things I’m dreaming of for the Patronopolis. More than dreaming. Actively seeking.
The Patronopolis needs a home, and it needs to be beautiful. I have jerry-rigged my website out of spit and pine cones so far. It’s gotten me through. But now I am on the hunt for a top-notch graphic designer who can help me create a beautiful space for the Patronopolis to call home. I want it to feel inviting. Comfortable. Relaxing. Playful. Intriguing. Colors, patterns, feng-shui, vibe — I want it all to feel classy, unpretentious, welcoming and alive. The kind of space that’s appealing the first time you cross the threshold, and the 300th time.
Underneath the beauty, or woven into it, this home needs to have flow. Movement. Circles that feed into each other, spin out, merge again. I need more and better and easier ways to show what’s happening in the studio, in rehearsals, at performances, in my head. Patrons need more ways to connect meaningfully to me and to each other.
Just this week alone, there were at least five moments* that were worth capturing and sharing with you. I want to document this magic stuff. I want to share it with you. And I want the Patronopolis to be a place where your magic moments of creation are seen too. But I don’t have the infrastructure in place for all this sharing to happen. (Mmmm, infrastructure. Perhaps not an exciting word to some, but it makes my heart go pitter-patter.) I don’t just need someone to make the home beautiful. I need someone to build the home itself.
I need a designer of flow. An engineer, a carpenter, an architect, a virtual artistical hydrologist. Someone who will sit down with me, listen to my dreams, make blueprints of the space using their own insight and creativity, and then go build the coolest freakin’ website you’ve ever seen. It will have rooms for you to share what you’re doing, rooms for you to watch me work and get a hands-on look at what you are supporting, and rooms for us all to meet, and play in together. Maybe that’s what it should be called. Patronopolis Playhouse.
I want it to be the kind of place you enter and immediately become engaged. You can’t help but pick up a guitar, or a crayon, or start dancing. You hear something and have to follow that sound, find out what it is. You see a big cushy chair positioned in front of a huge window, and you just have sit in it, and take in the view. I want to have online jams with Patronopolis members around the world. I want to have group songwriting sessions, and sing-alongs, and photos-of-the-day, and sounds-of-the-day, shared freely among us. I want to go there because I want to go there. I want us all to meet, mix and mingle, and invite friends to come hang out with us. Somewhere appealing to visit, play, learn and connect. For me, for you, for thousands of others.
Did I say thousands?
In its first ten months, over 200 people have joined the Patronopolis. By the end of its second year, I’d like to increase that number to 2,000. Minimum.
It’s time to scale up. Strengthen. Evolve. And to do that, we need more beauty, more flow.
I’m currently soliciting the top designers in the country to help me create a space like this, hoping someone will take this on as a pro-bono project. If you have ideas on how to help, please let me know.
Why would anyone do this work for free? They would need to be motivated for the same reasons I am:
- I created the Patronopolis because I believe strongly that creative people everywhere need new ways to get their work funded, supported, developed, shared.
- I am doing the work of building and prototyping this model because I need it myself, and because I believe it could benefit many others.
- I’m not interested in monetizing the Patronopolis. I want to build it, make it as beautiful and useful as possible, and then figure out how to give it away, so it can easily reach everyone who might want to use it, and really make a difference in the world.
I feel like this could happen. The Patronopolis could make a difference for art, for artists, for the culture as a whole. But it’s not going to do that without a truly unique and appealing home. The Patronopolis needs more beauty, and more flow.
Thanks for adding yours to this process!
* Those five moments I mentioned were:
(1) an exciting meeting with the director of the next incarnation of Reserve & Green
(2) a breakthrough on a song for the musical
(3) an upward spiral of ideas and energy following a performance at a fundraiser
(4) a group of kids in capes and masks singing about raptors in front of hundreds of their peers
(5) a group of adults singing a Ween song with such tenderness and courage that it floated the room into a different emotional dimension
You’re probably thinking: don’t you need more than infrastructure to share all this? Don’t you need a documentarian, or a team of them, as well?
Yes. And I’m working on that, too.