Sometime in 2019, I think..
Having left Renfrew Street with pages of notes and having slunk past the Vic without going in for a drink, I headed up and over the hill, in my tiny pixie boots. Relevant? Yes. The structure of this footwear seems to give me confidence, I feel a lot taller than the wee heel implies. Well, I say tall….
Heading towards the Stow building I was trying not to build or propagate any expectations. I was trying to keep the heid but I cannot lie, I was so bloody excited. We must view these things with open hearts. To be open to possibility and to see the work of other artists is crucial. How can we create our own work if we close ourselves off to the efforts of others? Does not every artist need a willing audience? If we enter a space, with a signed off opinion, why bother? Seriously, I’m serious! There is not enough time in this life for fucking about; that is not to say we should willingly love everything we encounter, without question or contemplation. Rather that we at the very least show up willing to engage. You might, by now realise, I repeat points. It’s deliberate. It’s affirmation for me. It’s providing a viewpoint in varying ways. Increasing the possibility of it sparking a thought in numerous kinds of people, rather than just one, appeals to me.
So there you were….. Impossible you.
After countless days of rain (5 probably, that Glasgow thing of exaggerating bad weather and letting the few days rain cancel out any recent hot days, because you know, we’re good at moaning) there you were, under a blue sky. That blue. Childhood blue. Could it be true that a new exciting chapter in a refurbished building was imminent? Were the whispers I’d heard about to turn the dial up. Or was my heart about to be broken.
Did this sometimes misunderstood artist just simply have too naive a view. Probably and far from it, at the same time.
Garter 