A Day Like Every Other
Mattie Young and Georgia Mill
Fringe Hub, North Melbourne Town Hall, The Warren
3 October 2014
to 4 October 2014
One adventure lasted for a few short and wonderful minutes and the other finished on Sunday afternoon.
Live Art is about being part of an experience that refuses to draw a line between artist and audience. Often one-on-one, a Live Art experience is hard to share because it can be so personal. No matter how beautiful and meaning it is to the person participating, it means little to anyone else: that's what makes Live Art so lovely.
Dances with Woodwose
In the corner of The Warren bar was a door guarded by two creatures. One fur-clad critter promised to look after my beer and my bag and asked me to take of my shoes, shut my eyes and walk forward.
It was here, in a small secret forest that a blue-furred Woodwose asked me to dance and made me realise that all I wanted to do was to sleep for hours on a blanket under a tree on a sunny day where I protected from the outside world by a huge fence. If we'd danced earlier in the festival, I might have wanted to run the African plains or kiss a blue whale.
This full 24-hour-plus-day experience started with a short chat in a tiny room where there were two arm chairs, a pot of tea and an Anzac bicky. The chat was about what I was doing the next day; a day that started included a trip to my local Farmer's Market, a meeting in North Melbourne and the opening night of Once.
No wonder all my subconscious wanted to do was sleep under a tree.
My day like every other started in my bed in next morning with an SMS with instructions to look straight ahead and write a three-line poem about what I saw.
She likes to sit on my belly when I wake up. I like it too.
But there’s always the fear that she’ll stand on a nipple when she jumps up;
nothing hurts like a cat standing on a nipple.
Not-quite-awake text poetry isn't my genre.
More SMS messages arrived throughout the day with tasks that included taking photos, drawings, SMS-sized writing and a map of everywhere I'd walked.
I finished the walking map on Sunday afternoon because I saw the message in the lost hour when the clocks changed and picking up a pen was too hard.
The experience finished when I was sent a password and a link to the A Day Like Any Other Tumblr that included all of my contributions.
It wasn't art to change to world, but it was mine and I loved it.