Sunday, March 3, 2013
the sale, behind the scenes
What are you selling?
A community, an idea, a feeling.
Who are you selling it to?
What are they getting?
I look across the table at Tempa. She looks at me. I want to repeat my answer. A community, an idea, a feeling, but I know it sounds like I'm selling vapors as if I have pulled into town with a magic show.
Step right up, humans in suits who wear polished shoes.
What we have here is a future.
A light, something for our children to get behind.
I blink. Tempa blinks. I turn to Susan and say, Exposure.
Presenting sponsor, she is quick and genius and she doesn't blink.
And I instantly know that everything she says is correct.
What am I selling? What do you get?
I have not sewn anything. I have not sawed or hammered or nailed anything to give you. All I have to offer you is a dream, and I have to examine that dream to see if I believe it.
Can a community rally?
Yes, I've seen it.
Will this one?
I don't know.
Can I see potential?
Do I know what the future holds?
Do I believe it?
Yes and no.
Yes, I believe it can happen. I believe a community can rally. I believe that whatever led me to bluegrass music is a mystery, an instinct, the intangible force which is music. I believe that music connects people and when people are connected they feel less alone and feeling less alone is a driving force which cannot be hammered or nailed or sawed. It is only felt.
When I left my last home I left things, things which were once important due to the value I had placed on them. I left trophies, certificates, knick knacks and what nots. What I brought with me were things I categorized as essentials the most important of which were the memories of what happened, what I learned, what I enjoyed, what I wanted to create.
I don't know what will happen. I may fail publicly and miserably and this may not work and it could be that nobody is buying what I'm selling.
I am willing to bet on a dream, and I am the only one I had to sell.
After that I just tell people what I bought.
Today I am grateful to not know what the future holds. I am grateful for discovery.