Font Resize
Salt Lake City writer Terry Hurst is 1,200 miles into the first leg of his bicycle tour to raise funds for a community arts and culture center on Salt Lake City's west side.
Hurst, who is co-founder of Mestizo Institute of Culture & Arts along with his wife, artist Ruby Chacón, knows how much money he needs to raise, even if at certain times he doesn't know where he is.
"I'm in some small town right now," he said from his cell phone this week from Tenino, Wash. "I'm just trying to find a sign telling me where I am."
Pretty humble words coming from someone trying to pull off the Herculean task of raising $5 million for land, building design and construction.
Here's the fundraising plan: bike the nation, befriend the masses and generate publicity sufficient enough for 5 million people to purchase one pixel each on www.fivemilliondollarfund.org. The more pixels that you purchase, the more advertising space you receive. Bulk pixel purchases can receive custom promotional spots. The single largest purchase will win a custom painting by Chacón.
Donna Davies, a grant writer for the University of California at Davis and friend of Chacón, is donating her skills to the effort. She's impressed that Hurst's effort is not your usual cross-country fundraiser. Instead, as she terms it, he's drawing a "philosophically aligned network" of people to the cause.
Hurst and Chacón have raised $12,000, with $4,990,000 to go. At this rate, the 43-year-old Salt Lake City artist will be on his bicycle at least another 43 years. What seems an impossible long-term goal is made more manageable, he says, by the notion that the price of one pixel is just a dollar. Then again, that requires reaching millions of people through a simple bike ride.
"The naysayers could be right that we'll never raise this money," Hurst said. "But I think we're better off living in a world acting and believing that our idea is right, as opposed to theirs, where nothing is possible."
Hurst and Chacón established the nonprofit Mestizo Institute in 2003, then in June 2008 anchored its activities at their Mestizo Coffeehouse, 631 W. North Temple, Salt Lake City.
The nonprofit's various programs, which include art lessons and activities for youth, have caught on so quickly that the institute has already outgrown the space, Chacón said. A dedicated facility has always been a part of the couple's long-term vision for the institute. "Except for places sponsoring sports and recreation, there really hasn't been a space of gathering west of [Salt Lake City's] railroad tracks for a long time," Chacón said.
Hurst, who holds a bachelor's degree in literature and master's in film from the University of Utah, doesn't need incredulous stares, cynics' remarks or other buzz killers. He started his fundraising journey Sept. 20 with 50 Facebook friends. Now he has 800 such contacts.
Given time, Hurst's litany of inspired phrases buttressing his effort might be just as long.
He mocks pessimists: "Every once in a while people have to do something to show other people that anything is possible. Apathy helps no one."
He employs humility: "If I can do this, anyone can do this."
He channels campaign slogans: "We are the people we've been waiting for, and we don't have to wait for other people to do this when we can do it ourselves."
Once, or if, the community center becomes reality, Davies thinks it could be a national working model for minority and low-income youth projects centered on art.
After Seattle and Vancouver, British Columbia, Hurst plans to head south to San Diego, then east and all the way down the Florida peninsula to Miami. After that he'll hit the East Coast -- all the locations it takes until the money is raised, one Internet pixel at a time.
Before this pilgrimage, back home in Salt Lake City he rarely biked. He's now lost more than 10 pounds, and he misses his wife and their 17-year-old son.
"The hardest part is being away from my family and people I love," he said. "I'm a very social person. This has been the most solitude I've had in years."
