My first foray to Denver as a newly expired teenager were the days of poor. Housing was cheap, roommates were easy to find, beer was the Silver Bullet. Entertainment wasn't too high-brow. Celebrity on Colorado Boulevard or the Alley at Cin City. My now ex, then boyfriend, and I would take long drives into the mountains for a day's enjoyment, stopping at places like the Elusive Wapiti or Little Bear for a bargain burrito or burger.
It wasn't until I had children that I considered purchasing memberships at arts and cultural institutions. That year in Lakewood had me splurging on The Denver Botanic Gardens and The Butterfly Pavilion. We'd go for backpack Saturdays at the Denver Art Museum and checked out the newly arrived venue of Ocean Journeys. It was the planting of a small philanthropic seed. Join organizations to support them, as well as not stress if a fussy kid or hunger pangs forced an early departure.
Fifteen years of southern Colorado living had me joining The Fine Arts Center and enjoying intimate shows at Theatreworks. These were probably the busiest mommy and working years of my life. It seemed I had less time and more money. I yearned to enjoy the amenities a fair-sized city had to offer, but girl scouts, and football, and class parties ate into the little free time I had.
But this living in the south suburban Denver area has me indulging in memberships of all sorts. I joined The Denver Art Museum, The Denver Botanic Gardens and the Denver Museum of Nature and Science. Initially I loved going for an hour or two, here and there. Then Denver got busy, then busier, and exploded into a hot mess of transplants. Every trip to nurture culture was an exercise in patience. One Mother's Day my friend Gail and I circled the parking lot of DMNS so many times we were singing "Arthur's Theme" - getting caught between the moon and NYC. We finally made our way into the lobby and the line would rival Disney at Spring Break.
My last trip to the Denver Art Museum was for the Dior exhibit. First we were herded into a holding pen, while waiting on headsets. Then we were put into another claustrophobic space to be oriented. Then we were let loose in the gallery, where I was pushed out of people's way and had my heels 'bit' by strollers the size of loveseats. I lasted 14 minutes. Which came to one dollar per minute at the member rate of admission. An email to membership addressing my concerns was ignored.
These three memberships all come due in the fall, and guess what? I have decided not to renew any of them. I have made a conscience choice to support literary endeavors in 2020. For me that means renewing my membership in The Poetry Society of Colorado and Lighthouse Writer's Workshop. I paid for an extended membership of Poetry West, based in Colorado Springs. I've only made it to one workshop, but I intend to attend more as time and motivation allows. Recently I donated a Ben Franklin to a youth poetry project.
I've been writing since Mrs. Whidden introduced the poem Trees by Joyce Kilmer to my third-grade class. No one ever encouraged me to write; poetry was presented as an obscure endeavor. A code to be cracked. Asking kids to decipher haikus and couplets did nothing to further my interest. It was organic, though I didn't know that then. It seems a natural fit for me to support youngsters and young adults to express themselves through word art.
My renewals for myriad artistic institutions came due this fall. And since procrastination is my nature, I just tossed them aside to have a think about continuing to contribute. I'm a word artist, literary lover and poetry appreciator. Shouldn't my hard earned retirement dollars go to causes that are close to my heart? Less obscure than the puzzle that (for me) is visual art? Don't get me wrong, I love all art forms - including tattoos, though I don't sport any!
Since my granddaughter lives close to The Butterfly Pavilion it seemed a good fit to join there. I've been twice with her already. It is a lovely, mellow outing for J'ma and Miss P. But that pleading pile of renewals is still on the desk, awaiting my checks. I am opting out for now.
If I decide a trip to the DAM or DMNS or the Gardens is in order, I'll just fork over the daily fee. But I suspect I'll skip the trip and stay home and write instead.
Time to Write,
Jane
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