Monday, 26 October 2009

Amyfesto

For one of my modules this term we have to write a manifesto. I'm kinda proud of mine so i thought i'd chuck it on this bad boy so you can read it to. if i still have any readers...here's hoping!! ENJOY!

I didn’t realise that to enjoy art you had to like the rubbish art too-
And that if you say you don’t like it then ‘It’s because you don’t understand’.
See, what I don’t understand is what there is to actually understand?
Maybe I have a very primitive idea of what art should be
Not should be.
Can Be.
But, if an unmade bed was actually worth six digit figures there’d be no issue of student debt
Art should be allowed to be anything
But equally art should be more than just anything.
An animal floating in formaldehyde, or ‘an image that captures the extraordinary essence of everyday life’- dude, it’s a guy on a bike in Paris. You know how often that happens?
We don’t need to be told that everyday life is beautiful- especially since a lot of the time it’s not, thanks to misread/ ridiculous politics and a need for power over the simplest of things.
I don’t think politics should be mingled with art.
Politics are mind-numbing, saturating our society and smothering us with rules and regulations that tell us what to eat, when to eat, when to walk, when to run, when to start and when to
Stop.
Art can be the alternate reality away from the dreary every-day life we try to escape, the images, sentences and sounds of art providing you with a different way of living
Emancipating our imaginations and leaving us content.
So if I’m suddenly expected to mix everyday politics up with that, and smother my escape with rules and regulations as to what I’m supposed to be seeing as opposed to what I actually see,
Don’t be surprised when I say I don’t want to.
Politics corrupt the original beauty of art, they warp it until it
HAS meaning HAS a message,
Even if it’s nothing more than a small doodle in black in on the back of a receipt that’s been discarded on a restaurant table next to 2 or 3 chewed straws and an empty glass that once held banana milkshake
If it looks pretty and makes you go “oh...that’s nice”, then cool
But don’t try and tell me that it’s an ‘artistic interpretation, reflecting upon the effects of consumerism on the general population’, because it’s most likely to be MY doodle on the back of that receipt
And I promise you- it’s just pen and paper. No politics.

Nothing’s pretty anymore. Nothing’s appreciated for just looking nice.
Take a second longer than you normally would to actually look at a person you love, or hate, or entirely indifferent to;
See how much more you recognise in them, their facial expressions or even how long it takes them to realise you’re staring at them- whether you’ve known them all your life or those few + 1 seconds you’ve been looking at them, YOU KNOW you’ve noticed more, ‘cos you took the time to- you wanna get something out of that extra second so
You TRIED to see more, that’s why you did. Even if there was nothing more to see.
In your mind you did, and it’s the same with art really
People look long enough they start seeing stuff they don’t really see
They say it ‘talks to them’, the art, ‘it talks to them’...
Yeah, that’s not the art
It’s just because you feel like you’re supposed to say something about it.
Try not talking. It might help.

My writing is my form of expression HOWEVER
Whenever i’m in full swing of writing, if everything’s clicking and i’m thinking YES YES YES YES YES
This works
I will stop and debate whether or not to swear because the voice in my mind, which sounds a lot like my parents, will tell me that swearing isn’t actually necessary 100% of the time and that surely if you’re such a good writer you should be able to replace that word, find another one amy find another one, but you can’t so you think “oh...well maybe I’m not that good a writer” and you put the pen down and the writing
Stops.
Then an hour later you pick it up and you find the right word. But no matter how free I feel when I’m writing I’m never truly free from the reigns of my own mind- how ironic that the only person who holds you back is yourself
God’s a bit twisted really when you think about it........
Another thing is that my handwriting’s really pretty when I write fast- it goes old fashioned and delicate and flows
But we have to type everything up these days (exhibit A you hold in your hands or read on your screen)
So no one gets to see my pretty writing. Self-indulgent I know but, it’s mine you know?
My writing HOW I write it, HOW it looks, HOW I do it.
For me you lose a little bit of the writer when that happens
You can tell a lot by the scrawling along a page, or the drawings in the margins;
Word sets it out, organises it. It takes your mangled, misbehaving writing and puts it through military school
The dreaded red squiggly line that stops you making up words of your own
WRITING SHOULD HAVE NO RED SQUIGGLY LINES. They should be squiggle-less.
Don’t correct me- maybe I wanted the little letter there and a Big one rigHt in the MIDDle of my sentence.
That’s why I hate Word. BOO to you Microsoft. BOO TO YOU.

Writing does bug me though.
It should be available to anyone AND everyone,
But why naturally assume that I’m writing for anyone?
WRITE FOR YOURSELF
And see what happens afterwards.
People like it- added bonus. People don’t? Who cares, i didn’t write it for them anyway!!
Why does it have to be applicable? Easy to convey?
If you don’t like it i won’t tell you it’s because you don’t understand. And if you don’t understand then i won’t FORCE you to either- i won’t mind if you read it and say “Ames- no offence, but it’s a bit of twaddle to me”
That’s totally cool. I’d imagine how you’d be feeling is how i feel when i have to watch ‘Match of the Day’ with my Dad. Gary Lineker’s mouth is moving but...nothing.
My writing’s there to be read, but only by those who choose to read it- not everyone has to, do what you will with it.
I had one guy ask what i wanted to be;
“A writer”
“A Writer?...Bit vague, love. What kind of Writer?” like that, with the capital letter and everything.
See, there’s the problem. What KIND of writer. As if we’re a collective breed that can be narrowed down into several sub-species
And we can only be one.
You don’t tie a person down like that when the capability’s too much.
Maybe i chose to become a writer because it let me do loads and loads of things.
A paediatrician is a doctor of children- but that doesn’t mean that presented with an un-well adult he wouldn’t be capable of taking care of them. He simply channels his talent to one thing- but if he wishes he can use his ability to expand his career.
“What kind of Writer?”
“Er Comedy, Drama, Horror, Thriller, Suspense, Romantic, Erotic, Supernatural, Children’s, Religious, Historical, Science-Fiction, Non-Fiction, Short stories, Epic novels, Not-so-epic Novels, Novellas, Comics, Graphic novels, Best Sellers, Unconventional, Indie classics, Columns, Reviews, Poems, Lyrics, stage directions, plays, scripts, adapted screenplays, screenplays, Eastenders, Mock The Week, Spaced, One Tree Hill, Band of Brothers, Generation Kill, Back to the Future, The Matrix, How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, Toy Story, Robert Zemeckis, John Lasseter, JJ Abrams, Diablo Cody, Bafta winning, Bafta Winning, Oscar Nom, Oscar Nom, OSCAR WINNING!!!”
“You wanna do all that?”
“...Yeah, why not?”
I’m a writer. That’s all I am.

xXx

No comments: