10/27/26
I’m sitting on the hill at the Orient Land Trust on what is becoming a cherished annual solo retreat, gazing out over the northern San Luis, fields and pastures ending in a rare bank of fog below the white-capped San Juans, communing with the bevy of deer grazing nearby, waiting for the morning sun to spread his warmth over my late-October campground, feeling absolute sublimity. Enoughness.
I arrived just in time to hike up to the Top Ponds for sunset. I made friends with M— and Z—, as you do as naked strangers in hot water enjoying a gorgeous view. They’re both on extended road trips after being laid off. Z— lost his marketing job to AI. M— lost his trucking job to Trump’s vindictive assault on legal immigrants. It felt like a “here’s what’s wrong with our society” PSA, and we couldn’t help taking a tilt at the political messpile, the pervasive precarity and tumult, the scope of the challenges facing our world and each of us individually. And there I was, weirdo performance artist, by far the least likely to have a stable (if paltry) income, filled with a sublime gratitude, reflecting on just where I am right now, and where Control Group is.
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It's been an incredibly demanding – and fulfilling – year. After last year’s substantial pause in operations (due to my rather substantial operation), we produced two shows in three months to kick off 2026, then headed into a heavy season of Bus activities that is just now wrapping up after nearly 30 events across the state with the Truth About 250-150 exhibit. Our new Residency program aimed to serve two projects and ended up hosting four. We helped with two summer camps for Native youth, consulted on several immersive projects, migrated to a new CRM, and just promoted our new full-time Associate Director (Welcome, Shannon!!). It’s been A LOT, each thing with its own workload and challenges. But making urgent art, sharing the Bus, supporting other artists in doing the same – that’s the medicine as well as the labor. It feeds our souls in good measure to the effort it asks of us.
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The warm water and sublime sunset did their healing work, and the conversation with M— and Z— drifted into consideration of ENOUGHNESS. What do we need to evolve from surviving to thriving to sustainability? How do we define what’s enough in a culture of relentless consumption, expansion, extraction, exploitation? How do we allow ourselves to move from desire, purpose, and moral compass, and make ourselves available for experiences and opportunities? How do we fruitfully meet our contexts, accept imperfections and uncertainties, and do what we can from where we are with what we have?
My conclusion, regarding my own life and my role at Control Group: WE HAVE ENOUGH.
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We spend so much time as artists and social justice advocates, reaching for what’s not (yet) there, trying to conjure a better world. At Control Group we’re continually taking on projects and initiatives well beyond our existing capacity, trying to meet the needs we see in the communities we serve and collaborate with, believing we can grow into each new commitment. I joke that our programming choices are guided by what DCPA and other local institutions should be doing but aren't (residencies, co-productions, presenting local works, marketing collaborations, etc). And usually from a position of scarcity, with the strain in our eyes from loads we’re not sure we can carry, and the quiet baseline desperation that often permeates the precarious, preposterous endeavor of running an arts non-profit.
But right now, I can’t get over the feeling that we have enough of what we need, the important stuff: the relationships, people, capabilities, skills, passions, drive. We certainly have more than enough to do, within our current plans and commitments to our community. This isn’t a feeling of arrival, completion, satiety – rather it’s a recognition of the alignment between our capacity and our purpose, and a celebration of our solidity and sustainability in the face of a particularly tumultuous time in the world.
So here I am, kicking off our annual fundraising campaign with a pretty strange message: We have enough. And that’s why we need your support. ENOUGHNESS isn’t about having everything you want or even need, it’s about being prepared to meet the moment. We are—and your donation will sustain the effort it takes to turn that capacity into impactful service.
We’ve got a lot to do in the coming year, and we need your help to do it. This isn’t a desperate plea for help in a bleak time of need. It isn’t aspirational or conditional, it’s grounded in the belief that you recognize the value our work brings to you, to our shared community, to people whose voices and creations urgently need sharing in this moment. We’ve got a gorgeous garden to tend, we just need you to help us seed the coming year’s planting.
