Artist Resources, Grants for Artists, Creative Projects, Making Money for Artists

Springtime is all around us, and we have some exciting, seasonally appropriate news here at Fractured Atlas. Tanya Birl-Torres and Alexis Frasz have joined the Fractured Atlas board and are already bringing a blooming energy to our organization’s work. Tanya’s and Alexis' expertise and passion for building better worlds for artists shines through this interview — give it a listen, and let us know what questions you have for Tanya and Alexis in the comments 💬

My phone recently broke in a very particular and life-changing way. Every three minutes on the dot, the screen goes pitch black, the phone shuts down, and then immediately turns back on again as if nothing ever happened. While this doesn’t affect any core functionality, like sending a text or placing a bulk order of fresh churros — the most essential things you can accomplish with a smartphone in under three minutes — it did provide some much-needed relief from the endless doomscrolling experience that’s come to define our online lives.

I’ll never forget the first time I took myself on an artist date. Okay, to be honest, I forget most of the details. But I’ll never forget how it felt. The clarity! The creative freedom! The subversive undertones. It was my first taste of anti-productivity.

It’s no small feat to hold the anxiety, worry, and fear that comes from living through these turbulent times, while also having to continue working our jobs, doing laundry, and finding joy where we can. With the U.S. presidential election tomorrow, these feelings may be heightened, as the country and the world prepares to face another unknown. It’s likely that we’ll be in a similar position as the 2020 election, where we won’t know the results until well after election day. And no matter the result, we may be in for a tense few months.

My blood still freezes in my veins when I think about that hot, summer night. I arrived drenched in sweat and stressed about keeping to the agreed time. I had just retrieved a box of my CDs — this story takes place in a distant, pre-Spotify era — a precious treasure that a friend had kept safe for me while I lived and toured in New Zealand. I was finally returning to Chile, and this gig would be my first concert in my country in a long time. Little did I know that my joyous homecoming would soon morph into an arts worker's horror story.

My measuring stick for rising inflation is the cost of an iced lavender matcha latte. It used to be $5, then $6, now a harrowing $7. Every time I reach the checkout screen, a familiar, condescending voice comes blaring through my head:

I’ll never forget the first time I took myself on an artist date. Okay, to be honest, I forget most of the details. But I’ll never forget how it felt. The clarity! The creative freedom! The subversive undertones. It was my first taste of anti-productivity.

My measuring stick for rising inflation is the cost of an iced oat milk vanilla matcha latte. It used to be $5, then $6, now a harrowing $7. Every time I reach the checkout screen, a familiar, condescending voice comes blaring through my head:

Credit: Tim O’Brien, Source Last month, I met a lovely white woman from Texas at a friend’s Women’s March afterparty. Our conversation didn’t begin with politics — she’s the director of a Montessori school and avid biker, I’m an education policy hobbyist and avid biker — so things were going well. And then, out of the blue, she makes a casual comment about wishing she didn’t have to make the trip to Washington to protest.