Black Earth, Red Star
Late last week I was considering different guerilla marketing techniques that I could employ in addition to the Money Graffiti, which has itself been highly successful. Remembering that Jeff Wall delivered newspapers, the next time I saw him I asked if I could ride with him one night and graffiti the inside corner of each one before he delivered them. Jeff Wall thought that was a good idea, but suggested that I make little inserts with the website address and maybe a short description so that people knew if they would be interested in what I was offering. So I went with him that evening back to his house and printed out about ten pages of printed out addresses in 16 point font and cut them into about ten from each page. I rode the three hours with him delivering the papers and then eagerly, after waking up much later than usual the next day, checked my traffic and saw that I had not had an increase in traffic whatsoever--not even one hit, to be exact.
I did, however, have about 50 of the mini-fliers left over and decided, after a day of putting one or two randomly on different bulletin boards around town, to seed books at The Library that closely followed in theme or substance my own work. I walked aimlessly around for about fifteen minutes before I remembered how to find specific sections (I usually peruse the library by just walking in random directions and waiting for something to jump out at me), and on my way to the literary fiction and non-fiction part of The Library the book "Black Earth, Red Star", seemed to gravitate me toward itself, and I knew my operation should begin there.
Following seeding most of the books in the section related to Revolutionary and Communist Russia in the history section I then proceeded to my favorite writer of this era, Fyodor Dostoevsky, and got through about half of the volumes written by or about him in his section before running out of fliers.
The Auburn University Library has always been a pseudo-divine center of my activities and life in Auburn. I have many times ran into friends past and yet to be, retreated into it's artificially air controlled confines for a mind clearing read of F.Scott Fitzgerald or Hemingway when things were at the most confused before, with, and since Solara. In this way, even more singularly than Auburn itself, it has been a pinwheel of The Path I have chosen for quite some time.