I have somehow thrown myself on a feverent, hyperactive, creative bus for a 10 day getaway to compose a work for TINA (This is Not Art festival) in Newcastle. This means, by default, that I have somehow forced myself to write a presentation and essay in three days, rather than the 14 that I originally allowed myself during the mid-semester break at uni.
This bus will carry 25 people, each with some skill, whether it be writing, bending, building, braining (you get the idea) which will go from Melbourne to Newcastle along the coast-line for the 4 days leading up to TINA and everyone puts as much or as little of themselves into the work that will be 'presented' at the festival.
This also means that by default, everyone is also a poor motherfucker and will, undoubtedly go up poor and come back either in debt, someone's bitch, or turning tricks after a unanimously decided stop at Kings Cross to gather money home (this is running off the assumption that we're all attractive individuals with the ability to hook). We're a collective here, so it is like whore money for a socialist bus full of artists (funnily enough, the project is called istuffgreyhounds...oh the puns).
We're dumpster diving for as much food as we can before we go up before we dig into the money gathered and paid for this trip. We have mapped out a route and also gone price-spotting, as well as having devised back-up plans. We're doing this real, fun and unashamed. There will be fridges on the bus powered by generators, as well as gas stoves for the stops. There will be the cooked breakfast and the dinner, devised by a trio...and I have somehow assumed responsibility for being one of the three.
I smell fun.
I smell so much fun.
However, I am still pushing for people providing a list of dietary requirements and allergies before any of us hear bitching.
I am also scared of nature, and therefore, camping...but fuck it. This is for the sake of art, is it not? Strangely enough, my presentation and essay is on the arts and marketing. Oh, evil bureaucrat I may someday be. How stupidly relevant.
Even if the call for contributors wasn't so goddamn amazing, I would still leave my nature-phobia at the door.
I mean, when the bus is described as "an abscess bursting in the festival's brain" where the artists will be making "social cancer", all I can think is BRILLIANT!
Actually, the rant is a little amazingly entertaining and my kind of crazy (and my presentation head is thinking, oh, what a great marketing strategy...it is their point of difference), especially at the guarantee of being able to ride the bus like a giant, drunken lizard.
Finally, when I am told to be more concerned with my costume and equipment than my own health and surviving, and that explosives are wanted, I am reminded of a very good thing a friend (who undoubtedly wrote the release) who turned to me one day and said, "If we're going to follow the arts, we're going to be poor for the rest of our lives, but goddamn, are we going to have fun!"
So, as I run away as of the 28th for 10 days, I will be blogging elsewhere, documenting the journey for your misguided pleasure. Any who, this may be a premature adios.
Till then, I am back on the societal arts marketing slide show with annotations and notes.
Back of Fridge Goodness
2 cloves garlic, diced
1 bunch rainbow silverbeet, ribs removed and diced, leaves sliced
20 good quality olives, pitted and chopped
a few forkfuls of pickled eggplant in oil
3-4 anchovies, diced
1 punnet cherry tomatoes, quartered
Sweat off the garlic with the silverbeet ribs till transluscent. Turn up the heat and add the anchovies, olives and eggplant. Fry for a few minutes and add the cherry tomatoes with a generous glug of olive oil and balsamic vinegar. Lower the heat to medium as you cook the pasta in salted water.
When the pasta is a couple of minutes from being al dente, put the silverbeet leaves into the tomato mixture and toss till they have wilted and cooked. If the sauce looks like it is drying out, add some of the pasta water to the pan.
Drain the pasta and mix through the sauce. Season to taste. Serve with fresh ricotta broken over the top.