Seattle Times Aftermath and What's Next

Over the past week, I somehow ended up on the cover of a Sunday edition of The Seattle Times. I absolutely did not expect it. In the wee hours of the morning, I checked the paper's digital version. My stomach was tight with anticipation, and when the final publication was revealed, I gasped and immediately cried.

The tears weren't of joy; they were of anxiety. I felt like I was naked and exposed in the town square. When I first submitted to chock-full of talent and Seattle Times' call for experiences on surviving in the city, I thought I would be a passing sentence among a chorus of voices. However, I was told I'd be profiled. At that point, I was thinking I'd be somewhere in the back, wedged between some grocery store coupons. Then, later, I was frozen in time on the front page under the headline, "LIVING IN SEATTLE ON $60K COMES WITH UP TO 7 ROOMMATES."

Yeah, it is true, but it felt so sobering seeing it in actual words. The last thing I wanted to be was seen as "needy." Actually, I think a part of me was afraid of being seen at all.

As the morning rolled in, I decided to send the links and screenshots to my closest family and friends anyway. Right away, everyone was supportive and really excited. They didn't seem to care much about the headline, more that I was speaking out about the cost of living and being a creative. My sister helped calm my nerves, and I allowed the story to unfold.

The past week has been interesting, to say the least. I saw the article travel online, reposted on the Seattle Times' socials, by my favorite record label, local colleagues, civic organizations, and even Seattle's mayor, Katie Wilson. For the most part, the responses were positive (with the occasional boomer criticisms). People sent me words of encouragement, housing leads, comped show tickets, and overall agreement with the state of Seattle's creative economy.

Sadly, Seattle's cost of living has skyrocketed, making it difficult to build a life as a creative. The city prides itself on its contributions to pop culture, namely music, but it has sidestepped what made all that possible in favor of the tech industry. The music industry here, specifically, is chock-full of talent and wonderfully diverse, but woefully underserved and underpaid in most cases. And even worse, many people considered music pioneers and cultural contributors are struggling to make ends meet themselves, many moonlighting at some unremarkable day job.

I can't say it's a relief that a lot of people are in the same boat, but it made me feel less alone in my struggle. For the working-class artists, it's like we're all playing hot potato with the few dollars we make. There's also this knowing between all of us. This week, more than I have felt in a long time, I felt seen.

Regardless, since I've moved here, and even more now, I've been moved by how the creative community has come together. I had a lot of conversations this week about affordability, music, and life overall. It somewhat cured my perpetual wallflower status. I feel like I've been hiding in plain sight until recently, since I never wanted to be a "bother" in any way, and often preferred to observe the rooms I was in. I learned that most people are amiable and welcome enthusiasm and conversation.

After the whiplash of the past week, I've begun to think about my needs and what's next for me and Vinyl Apothecary.

I am still tethered to my own day job (catering for a major tech company), but I've been trying to make more time for writing and radio. Luckily, work is going into a busy season, and it's a tipped job, so I may be able to reduce my hours. Additionally, I've been wanting to allow my body more rest. I've been struggling with chronic inflammation and pain, which directly impacts my creative work.

As for Vinyl Apothecary, the radio show, I am going to focus more on mixes or creating mood mixtapes for Hollow Earth Radio. As of now, I only have the capacity to release one interview a month. I am a one-woman operation, and while I enjoy conversing with fellow creatives, interview episodes are an intensive process. And as far as where my energy is best spent, I feel my writing needs to take precedence.

I love long-form writing, and plan to do more deep dives, music memories, and potentially written interviews with working-class creatives.

Although I am tired, I do feel reinvigorated in my own journey. I've been hesitant to use my voice, but I realized it's important to speak up and keep talking. So, I'm hoping you keep listening (and reading).

Thank you for the support.