Footsteps in the Dark

a per-zine of whispered secrets

Archive for art

‘fuck this fame, that aint what i came to claim’

A few thoughts, kinda related to the last post….

I didn’t know how my last post was going to go, if I was going to get set on fire for defending a ‘known agitator’*, or what, so it didn’t seem fair to involve them in it at the time (as it turned out I basically got radio silence, from the powers that be, which, all things considered suits my ass *fine*)…  But as Iain mentioned how it was interesting to see how a conversation between the three of us; me him and Ivan, developed into a blog post, I began to think that process, in itself was of interest.  Because he’s right, it was a conversation in the bar as I made another pot of coffee and tried to focus on the day ahead.  We bounced ideas back and forth, there was ranting, and I crystallised my thinking this way.  The blog post you (possibly) read, is as much a product of their thoughts as it is mine. 

So is it right I steal all the glory/abuse? I was the one brave enough/stupid enough to put it out there, I was also the one who joined up the dots and put my personal spin on things. So in some respects yes, in some respects no….

Anyways I still have questions on who is Footstepszine - given that I started off writing anonymously and have ended up not so. What I never wanted to do was use the zine as a way of ‘building up my writing portfolio’; I write because I love it and I want (NEED) to be able to write about difficult things without always being recognisable….the boundaries that separate me as an arts professional and me as a writer are becoming blurry. That frightens me. But that fear doesn’t have to be a bad thing. 

I’ve been writing like this a lot lately: it’s who I do most of my ‘non-creative’ writing: a conversation will come up, which will occupy me at the time and then later I’ll find that I cannot let it go until I’ve processed it fully, mainly through writing.  A fair bit of the time Iain will assume a deliberate contrary position to me and my blog post will be some kind of post script which is essentially ‘No your wrong, you are so totally wrong – and these are all the reasons you’re wrong’

Odd? Maybe, but it works. For me.  And the more I thought about it, the more I realised that this is a product of working in the arts: THIS is why I love the arts, this is why I will put up with the silly hours and limited pay and all the resultant craziness for as long as someone is stupid enough to offer me a desk. 

Because when it works we offer spaces where difficult conversations can happen. Art (and here I mean (my own) definition of ‘good art’) a thrives on diversity of thought and perspective. Art doesn’t ask that you sign up to an ideology or tow the line, it doesn’t ask that everyone agrees.  In fact it is in these tensions, these cracks, the cracks in the foundations of our worlds; where the real, important, exciting stories and practice lies.  It takes those truths, you know, the *really* difficult ones,  the ones that you sometimes think, if you told them, the world will fall apart; it takes them and it holds them up, and offers you them in your palm; and it asks you what you think. And you can answer back, you can say anything you want. You can agree, you  can disagree, you can walk away…..and that’s valid. You wont get called a trolling fuckwit….

And this is why I love working in the arts.

* I do not defend/agree with everything Elly has done or said, she knows that, I know that, everyone with an inch of sense knows that.  That wasn’t the point, the point was that I felt it important that someone should stand up and bear witness to the fact that something did happen and that something was a) bigger than the individuals involved and b) not pleasant

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