Dreampepper

Poke the bunny!

I got a realtor with Colliers International. He's perfect. One of us all the way. We talked about Ralph Bakshi films, how to make explosives in the kitchen, and breaking me out of my apartment with a file baked inside a chocolate cake. (I haven't been outside for more than an hour in three days. I have been only writing, responding to letters, talking to the bank and hours on the tireless phone. I'm wearing through the carpet where I sit stationed, cross-legged, wedged between the bottom of my bed and my snarling computer.)

He stayed up late to write the contract last night and we're getting together this afternoon to go over subjects and all the important etceteras. (There's a suspicion that he can get the price dropped even more.) It looks like we'll have eight weeks in which to do this, maybe nine.

This means Heart of the World is still beating.

It might be early to say, as we don't have the financing in place yet, but everything's looking a lot easier all of the sudden. I feel like I might have a chance to finally breathe. There's talk of a Heart of the World fundraiser happening at the VCC sometime soon. I don't specifically know the details, only that Paul Plimley's been talking to Sal Ferreras and Alexander Varty on my behalf.

Le Grand Content is splendid. Watch it.

So it's done, or near enough for rock and roll. We tried to buy an extension, but the terms provided us were impossible.

If it helps, we came closer than we had any right to and failed by only a slim margin.

I refuse to quit, though, when the fight is not over yet. There is still a faint wisp of hope. As far as I can tell, if there’s no other buyer who has the cash, then the deal isn’t dead, just this iteration of the contract. It was pointed out to me that none of this means they have another deal set up or even in negotiation. He’s only asking an exorbitant amount because he can. Until the pay or play date expires, he’s got me over a barrel in terms of demanding extensions. Once it expires, if they don’t have another buyer, I have the upper hand. We get a second chance, with possibly better terms.

Also, my lawyer's review of the contract indicates that the name of the vendor does not match the registered owner of the Property. The Property is owned by Wescana Pharmacy Ltd. The fact that the vendor is named incorrectly may be grounds for having the contract set aside. We have chances, slim chances, the sort terrible movie plots hinge upon more often than you can change the channel. All of this supposition could mean nothing. I might still be sued for defaulting on the contract. Given another shot, however, and we are better armed with both knowledge and liquid assets, we have an army built to support us and the national news at our back. All I have to do is call to get on the evening news and the morning report. (The CBC radio interviews are now up on Foxtongue.)

(Which reminds me, I want people to know just how touched I am by the support I've been receiving from the CBC. After Paul Grant called to follow-up on the radio interview and wish me well, he called back about an hour later, parent-senses tingling, to make sure that I had groceries. (His son is 22, close to my age). He'd put together that I'm young, stressed, unemployed and obviously haven't been eating. "If you need anything, know you can call me." It flustered me, not knowing how to thank him without cracking into tears.)

People are still sending me money, more so than before as word continues to spread virally. I think we're averaging a grand a day. Irritatingly, I'm leaving a lot of e-mail unanswered right now, (which is something I refused to do before), because I'm not sure what to say. I should know by Friday whether or not I need to give the money back or if we have another shot at the darkness. Until then, I'm in a fugue, wavering between being dejected and my righteous refusal to let the miracle worked amount to nothing.

Frank Warren of the cult PostSecret answers 20 Questions: "For me this was a great surprise. How courage can be more important than talent or technique in creating meaningful art."

When I shut the door behind me and glanced at the photographs lining the wall, it struck me that once I was going to live here. Cream walls, a white picket fence in pencil. He called, "When you're done, can you come help me with something?" The music was comfortable, perfect. I surprised myself by replying, "You'd better be naked," as I took the stairs two at a time. His smile at his computer screen made me remember why this was going to be my home, what I gave up when plans changed. Strange to love him still, at a distance. I still want to cut a labyrinth into his short cat-fur hair, but the desire to lean into him is gone. We never kept each other awake enough and I could never bear to hurt him again, not in the slightest thing.

Cold outside, I'm not wearing clothes sensible enough. The plan was to go dancing after the movie, but something else happened. A language was spoken under language, the same that hooked me almost home to that other apartment, the one where I still know where everything is. My mother tongue, it echoes.


Heart of the World seems to have bought an extension. I do not know how long a one yet, I will find out early on Monday morning, luckily before the CBC TV interview.

Dear everyone,

    We stand at the beginning of the very last week Heart of the World has to make itself a reality. From here we can only see a brief dazzle of seven days before the fateful Monday that makes or breaks our dream. From here we must stand back and seriously consider how close we stand to our goal.

    And where we stand is quite close.

    If anyone was waiting for just the right time to bring in a Hidden Ace or a Secret Master Plan to win it all, this is exactly it. With one week to go, Heart of the World needs all of us more than ever. We stand near enough to the purchase of the space to smell the sawdust and the fresh paint.

    There's still plenty that needs to be done. Shares can still be bought by anyone with a couple hundred to spare. Men and women can still set out to spread the gospel of this grand design. Lonely corners of the internet can still be told. Somewhere out there may be the person, place, solution, or idea that gets this place built.

    If you've been waiting for later to get involved, later is now.

    Heart of the World is in all probability the first arts center buoyed by the global community. Men and women, artists and audiences, professionals and amateurs from the human multitude have already given their hours, dollars and wishes to this dream. We are all of us carrying the hope and message that human beings care enough about art and each other to come together and create a place like this. For a lot of us, this dream we're nursing is far, far away in some distant corner of the world we probably haven't even thought of until this idea came along. Many of us will never see it once it's built.

    But we will hope and we will dream because none of those details matter. Art matters. Community matters. The Heart of the World matters.

    We have a week. Send us your ideas, your grasps at straws, your clever last minute plans, and yes even your (or your friends'/contacts'/etc.s') money for a share. This is where it all comes down. This is where the dream becomes real.

    Thank you for your time, your love, and all the hope you've given us.

-- Jhayne Holmes and the Heart of the World volunteers

http://www.foxtongue.com

VANCOUVER NEEDS YOU

To Build it a Theatre

To Give it an Arts Scene

TO SAVE IT FROM ITSELF

We Have One Week Left.

Time is running out! Join the good fight with local hero Jhayne Holmes as she and her band of rebels, miscreants and true believers take on the forces of apathy, real estate and city hall to build this city a future! There's an old theatre on commercial drive: it can be torn down to make another parking garage, a self-help day retreat for middle managers, or even more housing for the rich. . .

OR IT COULD BE SOMETHING YOU ACTUALLY WANT.

THE HEART OF THE WORLD will be a place where any old artist, actor, film maker, hip kid, kindred spirit, and idea monger can find an outlet (and, more importantly, audience) for the creative endeavour of their choice! There is only one week left to make this idea a reality. Thousands of dollars are being committed and even that may not be enough! Spread the word! Buy shares! Nag your rich friends! Make the city scream for it! The Heart of The World arts centre is a place by the people, of the people and for the people.

AND THE ONLY WAY IT GETS BUILT IS YOU!

(who else is gonna bother? The government? Starbucks? Oprah?)

Join us! The Heart of the World is waiting!

-prelude-

New Years EVE Skytrain Dance Party at VCC Clark. Meet at 7:45 on December 31st, bring everything - music, costumes, party favours, instruments, etc. "At 8pm we hop an Accordion Train to the Future." Total Trip time 1hr. 8pm to 9pm.

Act 1.

The Dancing Fields. A movement, they kiss. Every smile is a line inscribed. He makes her laugh. This is not a new thing, but another attempt. Her distance allows for the illusion of successful intimacy. This is the first time he's met her at the door with his hands.

Act 2.

Heart of the World news. The current owner has put the Bollywood films up for sale on Craigslist. The letter of my contract says As Is, meaning, everything in the building is coming with the building that was there when I saw it. I'm sure that it was implied somewhere that this was to mean only fixtures, but I'm willing to kick for a discount off the price. I think we can roll with this. The realtor, though he seems nice, as it is his job to do, is still going to receive a silly amount of money, no matter, so I don't feel I'm cheating anyone by complaining.

I'm also thinking about what it would mean to us if we bought them off Craigslist ourselves. Currently the films are stacked all over the theatre in big spilling reels and awkward tin boxes that we'll have to organize, box up, sort, etcetera. If we buy them off Craigslist, not only will we be paying less for them than if they're included in the theatre price, that will all be taken care of for us, and we'll have to spend significantly less time cleaning the space up for performances. It might be worth a shot.

-intermission-

W.C. Fields began his career as a juggler, so good that he performed for royalty and heads of state. A portion of his routine was committed to celluloid in 1934's The Old Fashioned Way. There's a clip of it up on YouTube.

Act 3.

An Italian cafe, Cafe Calabria. Double-consonant beverages and nude white statues of mythical heroes with santa hats perched on their faux-marble heads. A Mediterranean cover of Bryan Adams' Have You Ever Loved a Woman, "Lei mai ha amato una donna?", piped past hanging cakes that frame the renaissance revival ceilings. Two nights in a row I sat there, nursing a delicious hot chocolate to within a drop of its life, and waiting for friends who never walked through the door. Tonight, the second night, I winked at the man behind the counter who called me "bella" and decided to try to be a regular.

Heart of the World now has a rough Flickr.pool.

If you know of someone who should be contacted regarding Heart of the World - this is critical - you do not require my permission, so stop asking. Take initiative! This includes friends involved in community radio, parents, nice waiters, favourite baristas, interesting looking strangers on the street, and your place of employment. Post it to groups, message boards, communities, mailing lists, whatever. We need to be slash-dotted, farked, and on BoingBoing. Anywhere you can think of, it's important. The Globe & Mail interview won't be out until January 5th, it's not going to help as much as you can.

Remember, our deadline is January 15th. We raise half a million dollars by then and we'll have a new venue. This is not impossible. Even ten dollars from everyone who visits Foxtongue.com would be a significant amount. We can do this, we just have to work. (And pass this on).

I would do terrible things to have a website this good.


It's been a strange week, cradled in stressful days. I walked a city block today with my eyes shut and didn't make it into work. Tomorrow I will, tomorrow I will be farther away. The Globe and Mail want to talk with me.

Wednesday I'm going to the Penny Arcade Child's Play 2006 Dinner Auction.

Thursday, a group of us are going into the theatre building.

It's the small carved lines that I still see, like when I look at him with my glasses on, all I can see is his age - the distance between us for all that we're very much the same.

We raised just over half in the last two days, enough for me to swing a personal loan (that I can't actually quite afford), at the last minute to cover the rest.

The 48,000 has happened. I've delivered it today.

Now, to get to work on the rest. We have until Jan 15th.