by Sandra Beckmeier

Maybe it was just the porch light and wind chimes, or Harold's Chaplin-esque cigarette snooping (always an underdog in search of his brand). It could have been Chris's deadline emancipation notice, or Marlo's slide scanner conquest in the pursuit of a bagel photograph, or my non-stop rings of cigarette smoke. But while planning our fourth anniversary issue, I drifted.

I've been on a Stevie Wonder obsession, and as he hails, "superstition ain't the way," but you know, it never fails, sometimes the falsetto clause is a necessity, especially in business. Looking back to all of the storms we've weathered through our four-year exploration of arts and culture as a grass-roots publication in Austin, I'm glad we've been cautious when making decisions about the future. For instance, we danced around the idea of supplementing the magazine through a grant. We voted it down, and rightly so, because public funding cycles bring red flags of censorship along with them. Instead we chose to suffer through, keeping our right to curse and be the dream, making a hurl of it riding the traditional route. Low and behold, here we are, still struggling, but at least we can curse without worrying that some pissed-off bureaucrat will pick up a copy and complain to one of the commissions.

Each of us are wacky-writerly-types (some fit the stereotype more than others) holding up the rubic's cube while juggling other jobs, searching for our voices as we strive to understand and dissect the cold shots at multiculturalism and glare at the declarations (hype) stirred up by local politicians. Time rolls by and at least there is communication on the issue, there is progress, but it's so subtle because it's gradually changing. We still have folks like Mr. Wyatt charging accusations over the air waves, and we scratch our heads when we scoop the Chronicle, wondering why ADA isn't acknowledged by Lee Nichols. He's loyal. It's a blessing to be the underdog rag because we do our thing and sincerely hope it acts as subliminal glue within a divided community.

Hindsight is 20/20, and maybe if we got into the superficial dialogue which is the press and grant-lying (just kidding), we might be at 25,000 issues and could really talk about growth. We've maintained our integrity, and we know how to spell. Speaking from an editorial position, I'm very proud, because the magazine has grown in content, because of our new writers and the gifts they produce. In return, we provide a platform and an outlet for opinions.

Each year the arts community takes a back seat as we allow ourselves some freedom through fiction. We consider it a well-earned break, surviving another year and pitfalls of independent publishing, always highlighted by the subterranean question: "I'm glad this is getting published but can we afford to pay the printer?" The answer is "leave it to faith." But we stroll-on, tackling word count and teasing each other with the familiar question we pose to ourselves during post-production: "Were we too self-indulgent?"

Somehow I doubt it, and after ten months of indigestion over budgets, staff size, recruitment, circulation, and the constant advertising ratios -- vital organs when questioning the life span of a publication -- it's nice to know we have this brief mental escape, That's the best thing about this issue. It's offered during this special time of the year, and we hope you enjoy the flow. Peace, health and happiness.