It's been a while

So, I'm reading this book by this author named Goodloe Byron. The book is called 'Revisions Of'. And, it is, thus far, fantastic.

But, before you attempt to go to your local bookstore or your nearest corporate bookstore to find this little gem, tuck it under your arm, pay a nominal fee, and leave to indulge in similar enjoyment - hold your horses.

You will not find this book in a bookstore, currently. I am willing to wager that you never will. I happened upon it in the former Half & Half, an amazing coffeeshop that supported independent and small press publishing. It was there, on their counter strewn with many other zines and self-made comics that this book sat. A tall stack of them, true bound, full color covers. I was certain it was a mistake. Someone must have just come from the bookstore across the street and left their purchases. But no, these are all the same book.

I couldn't help myself. My guilty little fingers were all over it, cracking the spine and reading: 'The following passage he read aloud:'

I read it aloud. You should too.

'No matter how we dress our civilization, in terms of breathing and dying man will always be Natural, a creature. Even in a Total Civilization, the effort to move this status into our realm of understanding would merely be painting the horizon over the immobile stone. We are its subjects and not the other way around. If we intend to subvert something immobile, just when we conceive of this as a possible thing, we have already reorientated ourselves to it. From everything, we look away in horror and hold the pose. It is the muscular strains of this contortion that define the personification of the institutional response, be it science, politics, government, culture or what have you.'

I was hooked, and I read. But then, the pang of guilt returned. Was I reading someone else's book? Clearly, I was. This had been written by Goodloe, not myself. Ah, but was it someone else's property I was holding, coveting, devouring?

I turned to my husband and I found him reading another copy just as guiltily.

As I was about to tsk my tongue at him, my eyes fell on the back cover of the book. I hadn't taken it in much, being the type to always avoid back cover spoilers that publishers and marketers insist on splaying across books. I own at least one book that if one were to read the back cover, one should then set the book down, walk away, and not even consider wasting her time in reading it. That's how bad these back covers can be.

But this one was a strange surprise. I found in the bottom right corner, the following remark: '$0.00 FREE (not for sale)'

I'm sorry? I read it again.
'$0.00 FREE (not for sale)'

Clearly, the three different ways of stating that I owed nothing to Goodloe Byron or Brown Paper Publishing were for my personal edification. It was incredibly hard to comprehend. I reopened the cover. This time, I did not breeze past the first several pages to find the first chapter heading, as most - if not all readers do, and yet I condemn them off, constantly.

To my delight, I found page to speaking directly to me:
'Introduction to the Zero Dollars Tour (For the Confused)'

Fantastic.

The next 6 pages go on with different person's explications of just what Byron was doing leaving a stack of his books in my favorite little downtown coffeeshop.
And, after 6 pages, I came to learn that he was simply giving them away.

Fantastic.

Suddenly, my eyes were opened to a world of possibilities, a world of notions and ideas. A world with me, a full messenger bag slung over my shoulder, traveling the world to coffeeshops and tea houses and cafes and bakeries, planting free art for the taking.

I may never be able to do that, may never have the time or money that Byron must have in order to accomplish such a task, but I love the notion. Art shared, art given, art handed out - for free.

I love it. That is all.