pay what you can, get what you need π
pay what you can, get what you need π
creating a sustainable ecosystem for queer creativity (and chaos)
tl;dr: surprise post alert! introducing a sliding scale payment system because art should be accessible, and your girl's gotta eat (and make music, and write, and generally exist as a functioning human being). paid subscribers, get ready for my cover of kate nash's "dickhead" and exclusive portions of "this week in queer chaos"! plus, stick around for the first sip from your substack sommelier at the end - you won't want to miss my first pick! also remember the kiwanis meeting at uptown tavern this thursday, 6:30pm. gracias, mi gente! π·β¨
hey mi gente! ππ½
i know, i know. i said i wouldn't post on days where i'm not scheduled to... but sometimes rules are made to be broken, especially when it comes to sustainable queer chaos. so here i am, sliding into your inbox like that one tΓa who always shows up unannounced but brings the good chisme.
so, here's the piping hot cafecito: i've been thinking a lot about accessibility, sustainability, and the general clusterfuck that is trying to make art while also, you know, surviving in this late-stage capitalist hellscape we call home. π π₯ and i realized, it's time to shake things up a bit.
more value for you
starting soon, i'll be introducing more paid content. don't worry, you'll still get your regular dose of free chaos, but for those who can and want to support this mess, there'll be extra goodies. we're talking exclusive portions of "this week in queer chaos" and - drumroll please - my upcoming cover of kate nash's "dickhead" (because sometimes you just need to belt out your feelings, you know?).
but here's the thing: i want everyone to be able to access this content, regardless of their financial situation. so i had this wild idea.
what ifβand hear me out hereβwhat if we created a system where everyone could access the content, but those who can afford to pay more... do?
i know, i know. it's not exactly reinventing the wheel. but sometimes the old ways are the best ways, you know? like abuela's sofrito recipe, or the way celia cruz could make you feel like dancing even when the world was falling apart. ππ½
so, without further ado, let me introduce you to our new sliding scale payment system. it's like a choose-your-own-adventure book, but instead of choosing whether to fight the dragon or befriend it, you're choosing how much you can afford to support this chaotic queer puerto rican's dreams of world domination through vulnerable essays, questionable karaoke choices, and the occasional rage-fueled cover song.
the monthly breakdown
here's how it works:
full price warrior: $8/month or $80/year
for those of you living your best "i just got a raise and i'm feeling generous" life
access to all content, plus the warm fuzzy feeling of knowing you're essentially buying me a fancy coffee once a month
solidarity sibling: $6/month or $60/year (25% off)
for the "i'm doing okay but let's not get crazy" crowd
all the full access perks, just at a slightly more chill price point
reliable ally: $4/month or $40/year (50% off)
for my fellow "pasta for dinner again" comrades
again - full access, because we're all in this together
free tier friend: $0/month
because art should be accessible to everyone, period.
you still get the free posts and part of this week in queer chaos, because i love you all equally (but some of you get extra love in the form of bonus content)
remember, whether you're a monthly maverick or a yearly enthusiast, you're not just subscribing to a blog. you're buying a front-row seat to the ongoing dramedy that is my life. popcorn not included, but highly recommended. πΏ
why this matters
look, i'm not gonna lie to you. this isn't just about making my art accessible (though that's a big part of it). it's also about trying to create a sustainable model for queer creators like myself who are out here baring our souls, making music, and generally trying to make the world a little bit gayer and a lot more fabulous.
your support, at whatever level you can manage, helps me:
keep writing these essays that hopefully make you laugh, cry, or at least feel a little less alone in this weird world
work on my upcoming album (check out more details in the βmy musicβ tab on the main site)
pay for therapy (because let's be real, all this vulnerability doesn't come cheap)
maybe, just maybe, upgrade my laptop and current recording setup of "phone voice memos and a prayer"
but what do you get?
aside from my eternal gratitude and the knowledge that you're supporting queer art?
well, depending on your tier, you might get:
access to bonus essays and content (aka "the stuff too unhinged for the main feed")
special music leaks and behind-the-scenes looks at my music-making process (spoiler alert: it involves a lot of dramatic sighing and staring out windows)
exclusive q&a sessions where you can ask me anything (yes, even that)
first dibs on any live events or performances (post-pandemic, when we can all breathe on each other again)
the ask
so, here's where i get vulnerable (as if that's new). i need your help to keep doing this. to keep writing, to make this album, to continue sharing my particular brand of queer chaos with the world.
if you can afford the full price, amazing. you're literally making my dreams come true.
if you can only do the free tier right now, that's okay too. your readership means the world to me, please engage with the content by liking it, commenting on it, and sharing it!
and if you're somewhere in between? choose the tier that feels right for you.
no judgment, no questions asked. we're all just trying to get by, and sometimes that means buying generic cereal instead of name brand so you can support your favorite disaster pansexual's creative endeavors.
so, what do you say? ready to join me on this wild ride? choose your tier, buckle up (but not you, buttercup), and let's make some magic together.
hasta la prΓ³xima, mis amores! π
edgardβπ½π
and welcome, my darlings, to the inaugural pour of the substack sommelier! π·β¨
before we dive in, let's get one thing straight: i have about as much authority on superior taste as a pineapple pizza has at an italian culinary competition. when the idea for this section first bubbled up, i nearly spat out my two-buck chuck laughing at how pretentious "substack sommelier" sounded. it's so delightfully over-the-top, so gloriously comemierda, that i simply couldn't resist. so here we are, ready to swirl, sniff, and sip our way through the vast vineyard of substacks β with all the expertise of someone who thinks "bouquet" is just a fancy word for flowers, heh.
cheers to being fabulously full of shit, darlings! π₯ okay, now, for my first pickβ¦
you know how sometimes you stumble across a substack that feels like finding that one perfectly queer friend at a party full of small talk and loves to knit? well, mi gente, let me introduce you to the delightfully chaotic world of my friend beryl lewis (they/them) and their substack, "sustainaberyl".
beryl's tackling the messy reality of trying to be sustainable in a world that sometimes makes fast fashion feel like the only option. from gender transition to disability accessibility, they're covering the sustainable fashion issues that often get overlooked. plus, their political olive (cat) memes alone are worth the price of admission. trust me, you haven't lived until you've seen a cat explain voter registration.
go and check out berylβs sustainaberyl booth at the razkal market and fashion show this august 24, 3p-8pm, at 3295 ohio st.
follow beryl on instagram here.
