Part 2 of Wine and Die now up!
Foxhell rolling on, doing as was planned, though I’ve never felt in such uncharted waters. Everything I tend to do artistically, be professionally or as a hobby, is based on remits or project briefs. To do something entirely off one’s own back, is a little like placing a blade on the floor and jumping off the diving board wondering whether you’ll fall on it. A tad melodramatic perhaps, but while there’s a liberating sensation in pushing forward with only one’s convictions to carry you, there is also a certain sense of masochism knowing you’ve not really attached any support to the venture.
I would like to pretend that as some artistic experiment I intentionally withheld the physical print of this project from other people, but simply put, Foxhell is one of those projects you manage late at night or waiting to hear back from clients – not really something you then find time to share with others, it’s that sandwiched in to your schedule. Which creates the diving board launching, sword defying leap I suggest – which is exciting and a little nerve racking – but that’s good I think. Be it the result of circumstance, this uncharted waters in creativity has made this more of a rush.
In the end, it is an approach I would recommend. Too often projects fall by the wayside because you get caught in ever-increasing loops of insecurity, or you become too dependant on what other people think, forcing you to re-write, sometimes to break through that it’s just good to rush on through. As I write this blog, as raw as the topic I speak of, I’m becoming very aware this is part of the process – that subconsciously I knew if I let myself pause, be it for others or my own insecurity, I’d never get this done. I recall being 19 and starting my first band. One band member had never touched an instrument before, and I trained him to perform in 6 weeks, booking the gig on the day we agreed to try it. It was fool-hardy, the result was far from perfect, but it commited the project and the band ran in various forms for a couple of years.
Sometimes you just have to force yourself to leap, otherwise you’ll dangle at the precipice, never quite finding the conviction to jump. And if you don’t jump.. what was the point of placing the sword below? There’s something profound and intelligible in this post. Somewhere. I dare you to find it for me.