I was recently chatting with a friend about making music, theatre, etc., and we were both agreed that, yeah, it’d be cool if there was a place in the country you could go where you could crank up the amps, and folks could jam, try out new stuff. And pretty soon we were like…and yeah…we could do play readings! And workshops! And record! And a space for photographers! And…and…and…we need a barn! Or a rich friend with a barn. A rich patron of the arts with a barn. At which point, it devolved into some kind of mutant Mickey Rooney on acid let’s put on a show, and we laughed it off, and the conversation meandered into something equally silly….
For some reason, I keep thinking about the barn. What if…there really was one out there? And someone was into it? You could kind of, I don’t know, do a co-opt thing where folks chipped in a few bucks to help defray costs, and you could have jams with a few invited friends, a pot-luck, a bit of theatre, a bit of music, and….
Yeah. It’s totally fucking nuts. But then, so am I, so I went a posted an inquiry on Portland Craigslist under “Artists.” I’m sure nothing will come of it. But…but…but….