I'm on the London train getting ready for my meeting with Sue Jones. I met her ages ago at a Tea party (no joke) in Ipswich and only have a vague recollection of what she looks like. Luckily I was able to look at her profile picture on Facebook and as long as she is wearing a straw hat and sunglasses I will be able to pick her out in the cafe. She want to talk to me about being in the next Whitstable Biennale but I'm not sure in what capacity, light sweeping up duties maybe. The fear of being asked to do something live is lurking in the back of my mind and I am quivering slightly as I type. She said to bring some images of recent shows so I have prepared a two hour Powerpoint presentation complete with handouts and other visual aids detailing my life's work. Cleverly I haven't told her this as I think I would be sitting alone in the cafe my carnation wilting in my lapel. I am glad to announce that I have also been able to move my office from Burger King to a civilised little vegetarian cafe in Museum street. They don't have wifi but someone nearby has been kind enough not to secure their network. The main advantage of this cafe is not the quality of its nut roast but that its clientele doesn't heave itself out of its pushchair onto ones table screaming "food food" until the mother arrives to ladle meat products into its gullet. Actually I miss it a little.
I've made a little itinerary for today using my new iPhone. I'm hoping to get to Vyner Street and Cell project space. The phone has plotted a route, identified various hazards and will play James Bond theme tunes should I falter.
My new office is a Burger King down the road from my flat. For the price of a regular tea I can surf and email to my heart's content, though I have to admit the ambiance isn't exactly relaxing and I'm having a little trouble getting my emails to send. I've just had my first confirmed direct opportunity that has definitely come about via the power of blogging. Daniel Hinchcliffe emailed me from ICIA Bath university to offer me a show at their gallery. Apparently he'd seen a review I'd done of Lucy Harrison's show at Outpost, read my blog and decided to contact me. The show isn't until November and will hopefully be a new version of Goodbye to most of the daydreams with an emphasis on the hundreds of tracings I have done and the Black Flag game. Anyway this will only happen if I get the damn email of.
Other things in my inbox include a great picture of Stargazer 5 that was projected in a window in a tower block in Belfast as part of Residence's Windows festival and Coline Milliard has written a lovely essay about the show.
Josie Faure Walker's Hit and Miss issue two has also gone live with my sentimental piece about teenage death and the power of three.
http://www.newartcriticism.co.uk/
I'm travelling on an impromptu visit up to Stoke-on-Trent. I'm back on the train again and thinking about nothing much at all. I've got the talk ready, to be honest I didn't realise it was a formal talk until I received and email flyer from Airspace mentioning my name. Anyway it should be ok and I'm rather proud I've managed to set Powerpoint to move rather seamlessly between my presentation and its accompanying dvd. I was playing with my twitter and Facebook accounts on the first train down to London and wondering about what Coline said when I met her. I might be misquoting, but I believe she asked me if I thought I was truly an artist of the internet age (saying that she didn't) after opening and closing my mouth a few times umming and ahhing, blushing and bluffing I made some sort of very vague reply which I can't remember. I have a feeling most of the interview may have gone that way. I probably agreed with her at the time because, as she said (I think), I was very low-tech in my approach. Now I'm not so sure maybe an artist of the internet age is someone who isn't necessarily very techy (my spell checker wants me to say tetchy, it detects my mood)) but uses it easily, without worry. And indeed is able to splurge unfettered pretentious rubbish at will and disseminate it to a huge and largely unwilling audience. I'm still trying to be detached and cynical about Twitter but I did get hugely excited when I saw Monster Truck was following my tweets.
Andrew has sent me another email asking how the AN blog has affected my career, clearly he hasn't read my last post or maybe it was too vague.
Here's a list of direct things:
Ian Brown read it and asked me to write something for the publication for Trying to Cope with Things that aren't Human
There is increased traffic to my website.
Certain people in the Arts Council seem slightly nervous of me (though I think they are joking)
Occasionally someone says something nice which cheers me up
I have had some things published online and in magazines which have raised my profile above the parapet.
Reviewers and curators have used it for information.
The Foundling blog helped me decide on how the project should evolve and encouraged me to write more (this contradicts what I said in the last blog)
A few days ago Andrew asked me to think about the value of blogging to my work and career, (he's doing a conference). I was immediately unsure. Much of it has become so entwined with what I do that it has been hard to think about it as a separate activity. The barely mediated nature of the way I blog has meant that I don't think much while I write (obviously) and barely edit even when it is being transferred to print.
It seems almost impossible to quantify the value of blogging in general (I only have a vague idea how many people look at my blogs, even less idea about who they are and no idea at all whether they become interested in my work through doing so, I'll ask Coline on Tuesday.) I have become aware I use brackets far too much. I am braver or care less or am careless about how my writing is received. Somehow blogging still feels anonymous and this delusion protects me. I don't think it has made me think about my work more.
Despite these vagaries there have certainly been direct benefits from doing the AN blog. I have been asked to have writing published, had my work reviewed and been featured both online and in the magazine. I've had my website and shows linked on the Artist's Talking page, something I'm pretty sure wouldn't have happened to the same degree if I hadn't involved myself so thoroughly. It has sometimes felt like being in some sort of relationship with an easy give and take. Hopefully things won't sour in the future.
I've mentioned this a few times over the last few months but my blogging has become more infrequent. Alex Pearl is Not in The Antarctic is petering out with a suitable feeling of disappointment and failure. There will be a few more posts; my meeting with Coline tomorrow, the wrapping up of the show in Bedford and a workshop special. But after that I think I will rest until something new comes along. I am planning something on Twitter, which seems like a supremely curtailed form of blogging and I might write about it soon but who knows.
Sarah emailed me from BCA this morning a little boat has disappeared off one of my sculptures, perhaps it was sick of going round and round and just sailed away. Anyway I'll have to make a replacement tonight and bring it up when I do the workshop tomorrow. Coline Milliard also emailed me saying she had been reading all my blogs. Amazingly she said she still looking forward to meeting me on Tuesday. Yesterday I spent three hours putting together a proposal for a commission in Leeds and then foolishly reread the criteria, saw I'd done it all wrong and realised they wouldn't be interested in what I had suggested. I tweeted my foolishness.
