Sharism.

Apparently this is a new term: Sharism.

For those online “pass it on” acts. You tube. Blogs. Like. etc.

I think sharing is important to my work.
The shared experience
: where audience and performer engage in an interaction together.
: where audience collectively share an experience together.
Each person is responsible for it’s success. You are rewarded for how much you “put in”

And what about when you “recommend” that show? The shared experience afterwards. The detailed description that occurs over coffee?

What if the audience were armed with the tools to recreate the experience they had with another?

In the work I am currently pondering over, i want the audience to be able to “share” the experience with another. At the moment, we’re looking at having only 100 invitations, and that you can only enter the work if you have an invitation. However, after the show you can pass on your invitation to another.
This might be a friend.
Or a stranger.
Or you might think its rubbish and not pass it on at all.

But it offers sharism. Excitement. Investment.
Potentially!

Grease happy.

Of course there are many great things for having a man in one’s life. In fact men even.
But when one is single, one needs to find one’s own feet. (and sometimes even when you’re not single too. Let’s be honest.)

Today i felt great.
Because of one silly little task I completed.
My bike chain.
It fell off.
For the first time in the 3 years I’ve owned Squeaky (the bike).
This was perhaps the last straw for me at 6.05pm.

Amidst a tri-factor of stress: no job. unsteady home. and disappointing hopes of love.
The idea of my bike falling apart on me was too much.
Far too much.
So, as any reasonable-adult-woman does, I put it away and walked to my destination instead.

There it was when I returned: unusable.

But i took the bull [bike] by the horns, so to speak.
No play till the bike’s fixed, I told myself.

And e-how. Oh e-how.
How e-how works!
“to fix a bike chain that has fallen off, loop the chain over the rear cog and place the chain back on the teeth while slowly peddling forward.”

And. It. Worked.
And I did it. All by myself.

My hands greased up.
My bike ready for a-riding.

And what I assumed would be at least an hour of grunting and swearing (and possibly a phonecall to the ex…) was a total of 5 minutes.

And i happily have the grease traces under my fingernails to prove it.

Snail Tales.

For the last couple of evenings I have been helping out with Carbon Arts’ project with artist Natalie Jeremijenko & chefs Mihir Desai and Pierre Roelofs.

The project is Cross x Species and you can read all about them & it here.

There are many things to share about this project.

However.
For now.
I’d like to talk about snails.

24 snails were raced.
They were named from Escar-go, to Francois, to Slowpoke, to Gastropod.

Snails, apparently, are high in protein.
They go nice and slow.
Are excellent in our gardens.
And basically (according to Natalie) should be a number one source of meat. The vegan meat.

This got me thinking about:
slinkachu’s snail project
The joy of placing a bet on any animal.
Snail Mail. Oh. Snail Mail.
When I last saw a snail. (when? in this urban jungle. when?)
The huge pink snail in Dr Doolittle.
Sea snails vs land snails.
…..!