I can’t believe it’s been a year since the last Fringe Festival. Walking up to Fort Fringe on New York Avenue, everything looked exactly the same – the big white tent, picnic tables, a DJ playing tunes, performers hyping their shows. Only the bar selection had changed (they now have prosecco on tap).

The Capital Fringe Festival runs from July 7-24. It’s an opportunity to see crazy performances in intimate spaces, some of which include nudity and/or puppets. The bar aka Fort Fringe offers a front-row seat to this bohemian spectacle.

I was an official photographer for last year’s festival – here are my favorite pics to give you a sense of what you’re in for. And here are the shows that won in 2010 – many of these performers have new shows for this year.

The National Museum of Women in the Arts (NMWA) is one of those museums that even long-time Washingtonians aren’t aware of. It’s not on the Mall, it charges admission and with only a small sign marking its location on New York Avenue, it’s easy to overlook.

I had never been inside until invited by Michelle Cragle, the Communications Director at the museum. A former Masonic temple, NMWA is an architectural wonder. And it has some fascinating artistic treasures of interest to any gender. You don’t need to be a woman to visit the museum, as I wrote in a guest post for NMWA.

Everyone writes. In this digital age, we’re creating more words than ever. Whether it’s an email to a client, a persuasive blog post or the Great American E-Book, the ability to explain yourself in writing is the critical skill of the Internet era.

Despite this profusion of words, people often encounter writer’s block when attempting large or significant projects. They can fire off tweets and snarky Facebook comments all day long but their fingers stall when it comes to crafting something that really matters.

After I wrote my novel Murder in Ocean Hall, the question I got most was, “How?”

How did I muster up the patience to devote so much time to a single idea? How did I keep at it? How did I overcome the inertia of writer’s block to get started?

Writer’s block happens to everyone. But it can be overcome.

Perfect is the Enemy of the Good

I’ve met a lot of creative folks with ideas for books or blogs or screenplays. Yet, many of them fail to ever put pen to paper. Why? Because the idea is perfect in their head; the reality of the thing is never going to match their vision. They do nothing, preferring to keep their fantasies pristine rather than sullying them with reality. But isn’t it better to have something that actually exists, no matter how flawed, to an ephemeral vision? To write means to express your ideas, imperfectly.

Steven Pressfield calls this reluctance to get started, “Resistance” in his book on creativity and courage, Do the Work.

outline for this blog post

Outline

Would you go out into the wilderness without a map? Yet, many people will just dive into a project without a clue where they’re going. Once the rush of enthusiasm ends, they get stuck. It’s better to take some time and create an outline. An outline can be really simple – a list of chapter titles, points you want to make, things you want to mention. It’s something that you can turn to when you run out of steam.

No Editing

Don’t edit as you go. That can be done later. The purpose of the first draft is merely to get your ideas down on paper. It’s about collecting all the disparate thoughts you have and recording them, without judgement. You can clean them up and make them coherent when you edit. The first draft is more about collection than craft.

Reward Yourself

You can’t boss your mind around. It’s really adept at avoiding commands. In fact, telling yourself that you “must” do this or that virtually guarantees procrastination.

A better strategy is to reward yourself when accomplishing important milestones. When writing Murder in Ocean Hall, I gave myself a small present (a bottle of gin, a Wii game) for every 10,000 words I wrote. We all respond better to carrots instead of sticks.

Find a Quiet Place

One of the worst developments of the 20th century is the open office. Noisy and filled with distractions, these low-walled spaces are terrible for any type of work that requires concentration. Find some place quiet to write, like your favorite coffee shop, the neighborhood library or an empty conference room. And turn off the Internet.

Simple Tools Work Best

I like Pages by Apple. It’s a simple word processor that gets out of the way. If you must use Microsoft Word, turn off all of its autosaving, autocorrecting gimmickry – “features” that are designed to interrupt your concentration.

First Things First

I am not a morning person. Despite this, I do most of my writing first thing in the AM. Why? Zenhabits had the excellent advice to do your most important work at the beginning of the day, lest it get lost in the press of other demands.

writer’s block vs Writer’s Block

I was on a panel on with Claudia Myers, a professor who teaches screenwriting at American University. She made a distinction between writer’s block and Writer’s Block. The lower-case variety can be cured by the methods listed above; it’s largely a matter of getting started and keeping the momentum going.

However, Writer’s Block (upper-case variety) indicates a structural problem – perhaps there’s something wrong with the way that your communicating your idea. For her screenwriting students, she recommends explaining their script out loud to a friend. Sometimes by talking things out, you can identify what’s wrong with your story. If your audience seems puzzled or confused, then you’ve gone astray.

So, what do you do with an idea that’s not working out? You have three choices:

1. Press on, because it’s your idea, dammit.
2. Figure out what’s not working and fix it.
3. Quit and start something new.

Not sure which option to take? See the excellent The Dip by Seth Godin, a book about knowing when to quit.

When writing, nothing is ever really wasted. At the very least, working on a failed project is good practice. And that effort may come in handy later on. For example, I tried writing a novel about gentrification in DC. I got about fifty pages into it and got hopelessly stuck. A few years later, the characters and the story I worked on were the basis for my award-winning screenplay, Mount Pleasant.

Summary

It’s the possibility of having a dream come true that makes life interesting.
Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

Writing is making a dream come true. It’s about taking your idea and communicating it successfully. Writer’s block is an inevitable part of the process, a difficulty you encounter along the way. But it can be overcome.

Agnes in the structure

My good friend Philippa Hughes is hosting an artist in her home this week. It’s a project called Art is Fear.

Here’s the description:

This coming May 2011, for one week, the artist Agnes Bolt will move into the home of the very sociable and curious Philippa Hughes to playfully explore the dynamics between an artist and an art collector. With a naive optimism and subtle social critique the project will manifest itself with a large obtrusive structure situated within Philippa’s home in which the artist will live. The presence of the artist will be impossible to ignore. A series of rules, exercises, communication systems and bonding experiences will dictate the interactions between the two as will video cameras given to both parties. Both are required to follow the rules but mischief and expectations of an open spirited dynamic is highly encouraged.

A woman living in a bubble? I was intrigued.

I’m a huge fan of Philippa’s work with the Pink Line Project – with parties like Cherry Blast, she’s brought fun to a staid art world. I associate her with inventive and creative ways to engage people of all ages. From arm-wrestling with roller derby girls to scavenger hunts, her events are the very antithesis of serious Washington. In fact, I enjoyed them so much that I started writing for Pink Line.

I expected a similar light and fun touch to Art is Fear so I stopped by one afternoon to visit with Philippa and take some photos.

A clue to what was in store for me came from Agnes’s correction of photographer Matt Dunn, who took pictures of the bubble:

When I arrived, they were in the midst of an argument.  Philippa, smiling was explaining that the whole experiment was getting to her.  Agnes wanted to know exactly what was bothering her.  “This whole thing,” she said, indicating the structure, the imposition, the videographer who had also been staying with her the whole time, crashing on her couch.

crawling down the tunnel

They took a break from the “interesting discussion” as Philippa called it.  We had sorbet.  I crawled down a long blue tube (like something you’d see on a playground) and into the structure.

Inside the clear plastic bubble, it was stuffy and a bit claustrophobic but not necessarily uncomfortable. A couple of vents allowed in air. It was like a child’s play fort, where you could see the grown-ups but they couldn’t get at you. It was furnished with a little chair, a mat for Agnes to sleep on and other decorations. The videographer filmed things, looking down the length of the bubble

Agnes had a phone interview, taking the call through a tube in the structure. On the other side of the tube, Philippa held her phone so Agnes could hear the questions. They discussed the publicity the project had gotten, including the photos by Matt Dunn.

Philippa Hughes, outside the structure

We had an interesting talk about the perils of being well-known. Philippa gets energy from being with people, throwing events, but dislikes some aspects that the attention brings. If you’re going to do things in public, people are going to criticize you. They’re going to hate you.

Despite her public face, she doesn’t want to be “on” all the time, which is why Art is Fear has been uncomfortable for her at times. Like all of us, she likes her personal space.

Our conversation was interrupted by a visit from the ASPCA. Someone had reported Philippa, claiming that she was abusing an animal in her condo. The caller described hearing an animal being tortured, one that was “bigger than a dog.” They had provided her name and apartment number.

The man from the ASPCA came in. Philippa showed him that there was no animal here – just a woman living in a clear plastic structure. He was good-natured about it, saying that he sees all sorts of things in his visits to DC.

visit from the ASPCA

After he left, Philippa began to speculate on who might have made this false report. She thought it might be one of her neighbors, or people who dislike her. Or worse. As a public figure, and a woman, she’s had unwanted and threatening male attention.

“Bigger than a dog,” Agnes said, pleased with herself. She had made the call.

Philippa got it. She stood up, went to her bedroom, and closed the door.

At this point, a normal person would have empathy.

Agnes sat there. I told her that what she had done was wrong and that she should apologize to Philippa for frightening her.

The girl explained that this was “payback” for being “objectified”. The night before, Philippa had people over, to check out the installation. They took pictures and looked at the girl in the bubble. Of course, she had willingly put herself in there and could leave at any time. And performance art is necessarily public.  And she wanted and participated in the publicity. She even invited people into the bubble with her.

Agnes Bolt

Agnes thought that making the call to the ASPCA was part of a back and forth game that she and Philippa were having. She lapsed into artspeak, talking about conversations between collectors and artists and the difference between observing and participating.

I told her that it was one thing to have this little art game in the comfort and security of Philippa’s apartment but to drag the real world into it was immoral. And not just for scaring Philippa, the woman who was graciously hosting her for a week. She had wasted the time of the ASPCA, who had sent someone over to investigate a false report.

Agnes, however, was impressed by this turn in the game. There was in fact an animal trapped in a cage. Her.

There’s a fine line between a sociopath and an artist.

I crawled out of that rat’s nest of emotional dysfunction, on my hands and knees, glad to get out of this little art world.

SXSW in 2007

SXSW Interactive is an annual conference of social media and web geeks in Austin. It’s a huge, exhausting event that takes place over a long weekend in March and is popularly known as the conference that introduced Twitter and other new forms of communication.

The criticism now is that it’s gotten too big and too corporate, dominated by giant corporations trying to be hip. And that it’s gotten to be such a chaotic moshpit that it leads to network outages.

I went to SXSW in 2007 and 2008, just the right moment before it became mainstream. The conference taught me to love the brilliant minds at 37signals, whose radically hopeful ideas about the future of work cannot arrive soon enough. I learned that project management should be as simple as possible. Gantt charts and MS Project should be avoided in favor of clear goals that everyone can understand. REWORK is their vision for the ideal work environment, where meetings and busywork are eschewed in favor of collaboration and results. Their philosophy is subversive and attractive for anyone stuck in boring meetings or lengthy conference calls.

A surprising part of SXSW for me was meeting authors and discovering self-publishing. Listening to showmen/charlatans Tucker Max and Timothy Ferris, I realized that I should write and publish a book. Rather than trying to interest a NYC publisher, they just started writing and blogging their adventures and opinions. In the trade show, I also got to examine the slick self-published titles produced by Lulu – they looked and felt exactly like “real” books and were indistinguishable from anything you’d find at Borders. These two lessons:

1. Ignore the gatekeepers and write your book
2. Self-published books are real books

within a year prompted me to write my first novel, Murder in Ocean Hall.

Dave and Margie Newman

However, so much of the best stuff at SXSW happens outside the convention center. Like when I met Dave and Margie Newman in the beer tent, who ended up moving to DC and becoming great friends.

Or when I encountered the strange figure of Reverend Billy, railing against consumerism and Starbucks. And just the experience of getting out of DC and going somewhere warm to eat BBQ and watch women in skirts and cowboy boots was rejuvenating.

Reverend Billy

I realized that I’m more interested in going to Austin than attending SXSW. Unlike when I attended in 2007 and 2008, there are panels relevant to my job as a web editor for government web sites. But the thought of yet another endless discussion by self-appointed thought leaders on “Gov 2.0″ makes me ill. Why go to SXSW to see that?

I hope that the govvies in Austin avoid such seminars and look for the different and the oddball. Roam the streets. Talk to people. Stay out late and get drunk.

Another reason for skipping SXSW is that some of the “keep Austin weird” creative spirit that I like so much has migrated to DC. Unbelievable, yet true.

Just look at my schedule for this month. Last night, I went to screening of short films by a local director – this is someone who is making movies outside of Hollywood. Then on Tuesday is the DCist Exposed Photography Show, a community-based exhibit of photos that embodies the democratic, creative ethos of SXSW. Later in the month, I have the DC Film Salon on my calendar, another communal mediamaking event. I also plan on doing some writing for the Pink Line Project, an online guide to the arts in DC.

The do-it-yourself creative spirt of Austin and SXSW inspired me to create art. Being there made me realize that I wasn’t interested in the stories of startups making millions of dollars, of the next Twitter or Gowalla. And of large organizations trying to adapt to new technology… that doesn’t seem to belong at SXSW at all.

Instead, I was intrigued by individuals making art on their own, whether they were writers, photographers, bloggers or filmmakers.

SXSW demonstrated to me that you could write and publish your own book. Or make a short film. Or create a blog to share your message. It had an enormous influence on me and one that I’m still trying to incorporate into my life.

Perhaps that’s why I don’t feel the need to attend SXSW this year. I’m still working on what I learned from previous years. These are ideas of autonomy and creative self-expression, empowered by new tools such as self-publishing and social media. You don’t need to sit in a convention center to learn that. You just have to participate.

Several years ago, I was sitting in a bar with a bunch of coworkers. We went out a couple times a week for beer, always to the same place. They were fine people but, good lord, how many times can you hear the same old stories?

While we were rehashing the same old petty little workplace dramas, a group of staffers from the Portrait Gallery came in. They had more interesting things to say than me and my coworkers, for they were talking about art.

It was then that I vowed to get more involved in the creative scene in DC.

In 2010, I was fortunate to not only sample a lot of what the city has to offer, but also participate in it.

Snowmageddon

First off, a word on snow. What’s the best stimulus program for the arts? A massive snowstorm. Not only does it give artists time at home to work, it prompts droves of photographers to venture out in the cold to capture the magical, transformed city.

DC has never looked better. Shrouded in white, bereft of cars, you wanted Washington to remain this way forever. There’s a gentle tranquility to the snow that was brilliantly caught by Flickr users like a.w. miller, bossa67 and Pepper Watkins. Their pictures show the power of photography to create magic.

Snow Globe

During this mini-Ice Age, I ventured out to take photos of the Snow Globe show at Transformer. Ballerinas performed in a tiny storefront.

Outside, in the cold and darkness, we watched, awestruck. It was a beautiful, free performance, a gift to the city from Transformer and the Washington Ballet Theater.

Cherry Blast

Eventually, it did get warm in DC, just in time for the cherry blossoms. The highlight of the season was Cherry Blast, a Pink Line Project party in Adams Morgan. Dancing and performance art filled a storage facility. The space was so awkward and so crowded that I thought, “Hipster death trap.”

No one died, of course, and it was another great party. You always remember the small moments. For me, it was the musician playing guitar in the massive freight elevator, serenading us as we slowly ascended. Absurd, touching and memorable all at once.

Pink Line Project

I am, of course, biased toward the Pink Line Project. I knew Philippa Hughes, founder of the site, before she was famous enough to appear on the cover of the City Paper. And I am a writer for the site, covering filmmaking and photography in DC. What I like about Pink Line parties is that they get you to venues you might have never visited, like the Textile Museum, which hosted the packed Hapi Hapi Hour, or the newly opened Artisphere in Rosslyn.

Capital Fringe Festival

Along with Paul Gillis and Kay Campbell, I got to be an official photographer at the Capital Fringe Festival. Julianne Brienza (director of Cap Fringe) had seen me hanging around with my camera and decided to put me to work.

The first show I did was (Snap)shots on a Greyhound Headed Home. I was in the front row as two half-naked dancers came out. I stared and then remembered, “Oh, yea, I’m the photographer” and picked up my camera.

I saw more theater over the two weeks of the festival than I had in years. The heat was unbearable, the spaces tiny, but the performances were packed.

I’m a huge fan of Rome and Juliet: Choose Your Own Ending but the defining show of Fringe for me was Ridgefield Middle School Talent Night. Two people, tons of crazy characters, interaction with the audience – that’s what Fringe is all about.

Also what Fringe is all about – meeting creative people. Actors, reporters, bloggers, singers, dancers, cross-dressers and audience members commingled between shows at Fort Fringe. It was fun to just sit there, drink my favorite beer (Bell’s Two-Hearted), and watch people come and go under the big tent.

DC Shorts

September brings the DC Shorts Film Festival, a local event that I’ve been involved in various capacities for years. My favorites were a couple of very funny films: Enter the Beard and the Imaginary Friend Practical Manual.

DC Shorts is also known for its great parties, the best being the one at Madam Tussaud’s where I finally got a picture of myself with Marion “Mayor for Life” Barry.

But wait there’s more!

In October, we had the DC Shorts Screenplay Competition. I was one of the judges and this year got to see the whole process – from the intake of scripts to the award for best short screenplay.

We had five finalists in the competition who came to DC. I accompanied them to the casting session, where the writers got to pick the actors they wanted to act out their scripts. The writers had a day to rehearse. Since one of the writers couldn’t make it, I took his part, playing the role of narrator.

The scripts were read aloud at a live screenplay reading that took place during the ScriptDC screenwriting conference. While the writers of Interview Date won $2000 to turn their script into a film, all the participants have gone on to great things.

Fotoweek

There’s been criticism of Fotoweek, that’s it gotten to be too big and not local enough. Some of that is warranted – it takes place all over the metro area and includes so many events (and a really confusing web site) that it’s almost impossible to figure out what to attend.

The event that really demonstrated what Fotoweek should be was NightVisions. Local photographers swarmed the city and then delivered the results to Fotoweek Central, which picked out the best pic from each photographer, printed them, and then hung them. This was perfect – an easily explainable idea, local participation, a result that you could point at.

InstantDC

Finally, I was really impressed by the InstantDC show, which demonstrated that you can make art with an iPhone.

And I didn’t just like it because the beer was from ChurchKey – there were some great photos from people like Jim Darling. It was inspiring to see what’s possible with a device that you carry around with you every day.

Conclusion

Let’s face it: 2010 was a crap year. Recession, war and other unrelenting problems stalked the land. Art offered consolation and reward.

Four of my photos were selected for the Urban Exposure exhibition at the Carriage House Gallery and Studio. Photos in the exhibit documented the “changing urban landscape of our capital” and included one of my favorite photographers of all time, Matt Dunn.

Urban Exposure was curated by the DC Photo Coop, which aims to provide a workspace and gallery for area photographers with a focus on the D.C. urban landscape.

The exhibition is over now but here are the photos I had in it:

No more Fringe Festival I attended the awards party and wrote about the pick of the Fringe for the Pink Line Project.

I’ve been busy for the past couple weeks as an official photographer for the Capital Fringe Festival. It’s been a great experience, giving me the chance to use my new camera, the Canon Rebel T2i, and the opportunity to take pictures of performers, which I really enjoy.

And I’ve gotten to see a lot of theater in tiny spaces, where you’re inches away from the actors – that’s part of what makes Fringe so special. From women in passionate embrace to remixed Shakespeare, it’s an intimate experience that can be uncomfortable, strange or delightful, depending on the performance. Sometimes you just can’t look away, try as you might.

But Fringe is more than just theater. It aims to create community in DC, striving to be a citywide celebration of the arts. Fringe wants everyone to be involved.

For people interested in creativity, it’s hard not to be drawn into the Fringe orbit. For example, I attended a discussion on Does Art Matter as a photographer but ended up writing about the workshop for the Pink Line Project.

The Capital Fringe Festival runs until July 25 in Washington, DC.

I finally had a chance to read the Creative DC Action Agenda. The report, commissioned by DC Office of Planning in partnership with the Washington, DC Economic Partnership, does a really good job at highlighting the role that the creative industries have in making DC a vibrant and fascinating city.  There’s some really interesting tidbits contained in the report, such as:

• Creative jobs amount to more than 10 percent of the city’s employment base and generate $5 billion in income.
• There are more than 75,000 creative jobs in the city, including 16,000 federal government positions.
• With 69 theaters producing 8,723 performances in 2008, DC is now among the top tier of theater cities in the U.S.
• DC was ranked fourth in the nation for the concentration of artistic talent, behind Los Angeles, New York, and San Francisco.
• The average wage for creative occupations in DC is $33.73 per hour.

The definition of creative occupations is fairly broad, and includes people in the culinary arts and even libraries.  However, DC has a fairly high concentration of writers and visual artists, as well.  This creative community adds to the city’s tax coffers and attracts newcomers to Washington.

Washington has come a long way since the municipal dysfunction of the 1990s. But there’s much that the city can do to empower the artistic community in DC, including:

• Identify vacant spaces for theater and work spaces.
• Increase visitor awareness of the creative arts beyond the Mall.
• Improve access to funding for filmmakers.
• Cut the red tape that makes DC unfriendly to small business.

As a member of the “creative occupations” myself, it’s really interesting to see the big picture.  What do I think should be done?  The last point on cutting red tape really resonates with me. DC should cut regulations that inhibit small businesses and artists in the city.  There are so many confusing city rules about running a business from home that I’m not sure what’s legal.  And everyone I know who tries to create some sort of festival or event encounters a thicket of regulations and forms, requiring countless trips to city offices.  It seems crazy in 2010 that dealing with the city requires filling out reports by hand and collecting stamps and signatures.  Eliminating this old-fashioned paperwork (or at least putting it online) would further encourage the ongoing creative renaissance of this city.

DC should capitalize on the creative talent drawn here by reducing the burden of regulation. As demonstrated in the Creative DC Action Agenda, a liberated “artist-entrepreneur” community would deliver economic benefits citywide.