So, this Momo job. Yeah. ..Not a real job. I’m working in a tent for the weekend.
It’s part of the zany joy of being an independent, of course; I can do odd things as part of the schedule. But I’m going to miss my Apple cinema display. And my flush toilet.
It’s a thing. A festival-type, young person thing. I think. It’s called Momentum. ..I think. And it’s somewhere near Shepton Mallet. But I should really find out sort of where before I leave with the mobile Momo domo later this avo.
I’ll be helping to promote the Art Shed on site for a few days over the bank holiday. It’s a chance to encourage creativity and the debates around it. These are conversations I don’t tire of having – and it’s always nice to meet folk. In truth, I have no idea what to expect from the coming few days, other than mud, the smell of paling grass under canvas and hours of cursing as I try to remember how to set up our needlessly large tent. ..I thought about being efficient and cute and just taking the little two-person thing, but then I thought: ‘HOW many nights? Sod all that crawling around – I’m thirty-seven and a company chuffing director… do you know who I am?’
I have these stern talks with myself sometimes. It comes from having no team to answer me back. Besides, I need the practice putting up the needlessly-large tent before Bestival in two weeks, when people will be staying with us and therefore watching us put it up.
Glancing at the long list of things to tick off over the next ten days, the thought of spending half of that time on a battered 12″ G4 Powerbook isn’t thrilling my hopes for productivity. But I’m taking the layout pad and the iPod and a pile of files and plan to become the Art Shed’s artist in residence – having people sit infront of my easel with nervous vanity while I scritch scratch away in florid swoops, only to swivel the board with a ‘ta-daah’ and see their disappointment at my sketches for an electronics distributor’s new logo system. At which point I’ll say something clever, like: ‘Art is about new ways of seeing – it’s more about the journey, the thinking, than the realisation.’ And while they’re leaving, I’ll call something pithy after them, like: ‘And brands are built on behaviours, mate..’ and then I’ll get on again. Or go get the team another round of coffees.
But you know? Randomness. Creativity needs a bit of this, doesn’t it? FInding yourself somewhere you hadn’t planned can be the space where the spark hits. Or something. I have a quiet wondering about that for this weekend.
..Although, in my experience, finding yourself somewhere you hadn’t planned means you’re going to get to know the drinks machine in Frankfurt airport really well while you wait for the flight to re-connect you to your bags. Or it means peeing in a bush by the M4. Or it means wondering woozily what all machines these nice strangers are plugging into you do…
Of course, the pertinent reason for going to this random thing this weekend is simply that Sarah asked me to. And all schedule challenges aside, I can can’t think of a more appropriate time to spend a while with this particular creative mate. I’m not sure there’s anywhere I’d rather be.
Besides, I usually come away from time with her and Mark feeling an extra creative momentum. And that’s my real job.