Pink Money: A Photographic Expression of Queer Financial Power

Thanks to Greg Macek for the fabulous photos in this blog!

Keeping it in the family

Are you tearing your hair out trying to figure out where to spend your dollars in the face of so many corporations funding conservative causes?  I’m with you!  I mean, my hair is part of my persona, and my wigs are quite unkempt at the moment so I won’t literally be doing that, but damn is it difficult to buy anything and keep a clear conscience anymore.  I’m not going to sit here and tell you where to buy still expensive, yet non-white supremacist eggs.  Instead, here are some thoughts from a practicing homosexual and queer artist (me) on how we can boomerang the dollars flowing through the things that bring us joy, and back to our community. 

​I was born and raised in Naperville, Illinois…a community that growing up, seemed to only care about one thing—money.  People pay high property taxes in Naperville to pay for the “best” schools so their kids can get the “best” jobs and make lots of money so they can make babies and raise kids who go to the “best” schools, get the “best” jobs and make lots of money.  As a queer kid growing up in an artsy, blue-collar household in Naperville, that idea of “best” never really landed with me.  Aside from art class, school often felt like prison, and those jobs they pushed us to get were largely soul-sucking for an artist-at-heart.  The idea of reinvesting in community, however, is one I have come to embrace.  The funny thing is, I invest a lot of my time and money, not only in my community, but in education, namely queer education through my art, presentations, and interactions.   

Serving up lewks, drinks, food, and kinks
 
Picture it-Bloomington-Normal Pride Fest 2024… I had just wrapped up the Thaddeus Art booth on Main Street, peeled off my sweaty Thaddeus Art tank cause it was 4,000 degrees that day, and made my way to The Bistro.  If you aren't aware, The Bistro is the fabulous Bloomington gay bar run by the legendary Jan "Momma" Lancaster, where the room is full of friends, the walls are full of art (including mine-yay!), and the pretense is low.  The drag performers had also just gotten off the street (they didn’t look as sweaty as me, but I feel like maybe their feathers distracted the eye) to continue performances at the after party.   It rained dollars on the (also legendary) ShareAlikes and the rest of the kings and queens on the Bistro stage.  I had a great day at my booth in Bloomington, IL, where folks really support the arts with love and dollars!  So I was happy to throw down some pink money for my drag performer friends as well.

​When I travel for further away art shows and festivals, I usually go a day or two early to get my bearings and check out the queer scene…while queer spaces still exist. 
 
One night in 2023, after setting up for Magic City Art Connection, my husband and I walked into “Our Space” in Birmingham, Alabama.  It was everything you would think a small neighborhood gay bar in Birmingham, Alabama would be.  The bartender, though gay, looked straight as can be, and after conversations with the staff and patrons it seemed as if everyone in the joint was living a double life out of necessity to survive.  As clear newbies, we were happily greeted immediately, and we took a seat at the racetrack style bar.  To my joy (and my husband’s dismay) the bartender took a look at us and changed the sportsball on the bar tv’s to the Golden Girls.  We chatted a bit, had a few drinks, tipped well, and headed off to get ready for the art show the next morning.  This bar has since closed, along with another Birmingham gay bar, leaving one openly gay bar remaining in the city.  I’m glad we went.  I’m glad we supported, if even for one night.  It’s funny how in general, you tip your bartender because it’s the right thing to do…in the queer world, you never know when that tip might be the last you give that bartender at that bar.  And when a gay bar closes, it rarely reopens as a gay bar.  

In 2022, after a day at my booth at Madison Art Fair on the Square, I went to Woof’s and learned that drinks are half price if you are wearing leather gear.   Unfortunately I had left mine at home. I now bring my harness with me whenever I travel…because half price drinks means more pink money to pay forward to the bartender or entertainers!  Plus, it looks super cute on me #selflove.

​If I’m not patronizing a queer establishment, I’m sure as hell gonna look gay af when I go anywhere else.  The best is dinner after an art show…like at that diner in Collinsville, IL on our way back from Rainbows Festival in Phoenix, when my hair was still rainbow and the hubby and I were still clad in Thaddeus Art peaches, rainbow shoes and socks.  It sparked a conversation with the server about local pride events in the area. I always give a better tip in these situations of kind recognition, regardless of whether the server is queer or not.  That’s pink money doing a solid for the community and the server. 

Pink money vs. big money
 
At Stonewall Columbus Pride, a young woman came up to my booth, looked around and loved what she saw.  She said she couldn’t yet afford my smallest print priced at $40, but she would like to please donate $10 to me so that I keep creating and keep coming back.  I gratefully accepted and gave her a peach sticker. 
 
This has been a new phenomenon for me since I started doing Pride Fests vs. what I call "everybody" art shows.  There are lots of folks with little expendable income who want to support.  They often buy my smaller pieces of art like magnets, pendants, prints or small paintings, but sometimes donate money, or round up with a tip.  At first I felt bad taking extra money from folks who aren’t getting more art in return.  But then I realized the way they round up on a purchase is the same thing I do to support drag performers, bartenders, servers, musicians, dancers, and other queer creatives on my journeys.  It makes a difference-in both directions.  People want to feel like they are supporting, so let’s support each other!

​Feeling truly appreciated as an artist is something I have come to realize more often in recent years.  It is no coincidence that more appreciation has come my way since my art came out of the closet, and since I started exhibiting in spaces that are more queer, more diverse, more festive, young-hearted, more fun, more open.  This appreciation of my art fuels my desire to give back tenfold.  I don’t always have ten to give…so I give back two, or three or whatever fold I’ve got, because I know it matters. 
 
When someone tells me they know of a show or festival I should exhibit in, I listen, but once they say the reason is because “there’s big money there”, I check out.  Money is everywhere, and ‘big money” doesn’t want what I have (at least not while I’m alive), and I’ve spent too many years of my life chasing “big money” with what I thought they wanted.  I’d rather keep my soul, and my happiness.

Exhibitions aside, I have a graveyard of sketches/designs I’ve spent hundreds of hours on, for “big money” projects.  Most of the projects I spent the most time on did not come to fruition.  The more people want sketch after sketch, design after design, the more time I waste, the more it becomes obvious that this project is never going to happen.  Pink money is less likely to ask me to work for free (aside from the occasional non-profit project, happy to help out when I can!) in fact the community sometimes pays more than what I ask for, thinks of ways to promote my work, and genuinely seems interested in me and my work.
 
Big money often asks me to do things that they want, regardless of how it fits in with my body of work, my style, or my mission.  Like I’m an artist, so that means I just create whatever anyone wants and they are flabbergasted when I can’t meet their demands.  It’s very manipulative, and to me it seems impractical. 
 
Pink money comes to me because they want what I already have to offer.  If a project doesn’t work out, it is what it is, they don’t try and make my art into something it isn’t.

​Don’t make me whip out my speaker
 
I don’t know about you, but when I’m stressed or anxious (as I am right now thinking about big money people), music is a pick-me-up for me especially at an exhibit. Milwaukee Pride in 2024, for example, was off the hook. The vibe was everything people used to advise me against for an art exhibit...it was loud, boozy, full of vendors selling everything from little chachkies to fine art, and very gay.   Turns out it was one of the most fun and lucrative exhibits I had last year. I wasn’t far from the music stages…closest to me was edm blasting away most of the day from a stage accompanied by furries, drag performers, and dancers, depending on the time of day.  From another side of my booth I could faintly hear David Archuletta in the distance.  Far from deterring customers, folks come into my art space energized from the audio deliciousness.  Their cup becomes full, and they spill a bit into my booth. 
Particularly at queer events, musical acts are a catalyst for both sales and soul. 
 
Many art festivals (and sadly some Pride Fests) are quiet.  I always bring a speaker just in case, and even though it’s not live music, there are sure to be furries, drag artists, and fill-in-the-blank queer fabulousness walking by to join me on my little art stage, and that stage has better vibes because of the thumpa thumpa.

​Fab collabs
 
Are you a queer artist stuck in a rut?  I have found collaboration with other queer creatives to be hella rewarding (do we still say ‘hella”?  I’m leaving it in).  I recently completed a commissioned project to create a series of fashion art based off a non-binary fashion model who posed for me in various amounts of clothing. The fact that they can use this art to help further their brand and being makes the job extra rewarding. Among other work I’ve done with this fabulous human, I had the opportunity to be a guest speaker on their podcast recently.  “Monday Morning Meditation” with Anton X on Spotify..it’s worth a listen! 

The confluence of photographs and words you are currently viewing is my latest collaboration.  The photo shoot was a fun time that helped connect my thoughts to my art, and back again.   The behind-the-scenes of the photoshoot is a whole separate blog, but let's just say Greg is a talented photographer with patience for shenanigans and a sense of humor.  

 ​And maybe you don’t go to the gay bars, festivals, or art shows, and do not feel the need to get naked for art (I don’t know you), or get photographed with your latest creations, but maybe you run into a fabulous queer artist, tarot reader, author, poet, electrologist, massage therapist, hair stylist, etc. that can make your life better…support them!  Some collaborations directly involve money, and others trade or combine services, but the best collaborations involve relationships that build on themselves.  Follow the queer and ally creatives that you love online, like and share their shit, show up in their spaces, tell them they are killing it, send them some love, get creative together.  It helps all of us thrive and live to create another day and make another pink dollar to invest in ourselves, in our passions and in our community.

​We don’t need the Kennedy Center, we have the streets
 
One form of collaboration that is a re-discovery for me is in-the-streets protesting.  My husband and I marched during the Prop 8 rallies back in 2008/2009, and we marched the streets of Chicago once more after the 2016 election.   Maybe it’s an every 8 year or so thing, or maybe it’s the blatant fascism, but either way I’ve been back in the streets, the way a queer artist should—in a joyous and vibrant display of rage.  And this time I have more friends…lots more.  Protesting the injustices against the LGBTQ+ community and beyond, has brought about more connections with those I would naturally collaborate with anyways.  The hand painted signs I’ve been creating have gotten some good attention, and I’m happy for that.  It makes me feel like I’m helping get attention for our causes, though if I’m being honest, nothing beats the child I saw protesting outside Lurie’s Childrens Hospital to keep trans healthcare alive with a sign saying, “I’m here to support my trans friends”.  You’re not crying, I’m crying…or maybe you too!  No, I don’t have extra time for protesting or sign making, but as a student of history, I know that it’s time to speak loudly, or forever hold the pieces of ourselves…show up and show out, or risk losing everything we’ve fought so hard for.  This fight for our lives, and the lives of our loved ones bring us all closer together, and while it may be a secondary thought, looking around at these protests we see people we want to connect with.  Those connections can be anything from information gathering to friendships to dating or business relationships—who knows?!

​Protesting doesn’t need to be in the form of marching, signs, and shouting.  Pride is a protest, expressing our existence is a protest, queer joy is a protest.  And if we aren’t having fun, we aren’t doing it right.  Whenever I bring my art to a festival, it is not lost on me that this is a form of protest in itself.  Art that pushes back in unexpected places and is accessible to the public—this is the art of impact.  I’m attending the festival at World Pride with my art this year, and what better poetry than our big queer celebration in the literal streets of D.C.

The dollars and scents of it all
 
According to research from LGBT Capital, world LGBTQ annual spending power currently stands at $4.7 trillion.  We help ourselves by buying products from corporations that support our values, yes, but with so many corporations kissing the ring and reeking of old-timey hate right now, there is something fabulous we can do to feed our souls as well as fill our wallets.  That is to support those who support us, particularly those queer and allied folks and businesses who provide the joy in our lives. 
 
In my recent interview on the Monday Meditation podcast I discussed my journey as an artist, and one concept we discussed was fame and fortune.  I mentioned that I don’t much care about the latter half.  I invest much of the money I make back into my work, and the personal goal is to be able to treat myself to something nice every once in a while.  I don’t need to suck up to big money for that, selling my creative soul for maybe money.  I am, however, a fan of fame…good fame, particularly.  Those artists, creatives, and small businesses that project the messages of love, self-celebration, diversity, equity, and inclusion need to be renowned so those values spread faster than hate and indifference.  Let’s invest in ourselves, and make our people and products good famous. 

​I’ve been selling my art for the past 26 years, and one thing I’ve noticed about the LGBTQ community in that time is that overall we value people over big money.  Pink money matters, lifting each other up financially and otherwise, to see our community thrive.  That matters to me.  It matters that I make enough to put back into my work to create the next fabulous thing that will reach someone’s soul.  To my fellow queer and ally creatives—it matters to me that you do too.