The nowhere land of self doubt

Having read that last post, I feel almost churlish in giving my half–assed opinions about what was certainly an intelligent, original piece of work, put together by acknowledged experts. The difference between serious art and popular entertainment is interesting. Last night’s endeavor was serious art. Therefore unless you are Lloyd Newson or something, who are you to say whether it worked or whether it didn’t? And if you are Lloyd Newson, you wouldn’t comment. As someone who has never done anything creative in their life, it occurs to me that I don’t feel comfortable opining like I have in the post below. Whereas I am quite happy to say that T.A.T.U are absolute crap, despite not being a musician.

Thinking more generally along similar lines, it’s funny. I, like most people I suppose, am just an average, mediocre bloke. No–one gives a shit what I think. Despite being nearly 30, I still seem to be surrounded by my elders and betters, except where I am surrounded by my youngers and betters. What are we non–brilliant people supposed to do? Just have the chutzpah to wade in with a view about everything and the hell with it if we couldn’t have come up with something half as interesting ourselves? Or creep around like mice because somebody always knows better? Do I have anything to add, to anything on this planet? It’s frustrating sometimes. Maybe it would be nice to do something creative, for once. But what?

When you’re five, you’re a unique, special little child, full of possibilities. But once you’re in your late twenties, you’re probably just another fattening, balding (if you’re a bloke), eminiently replacable, average boring twat. When there’s 6,325,433,285 people in the world, there’s always going to be someone who knows better. In fact, someone’s probably already said this, better. So what do you do? The traditional response I suppose would be to have kids. Maybe one of them will turn out to be the next David Beckham. But I am sure that this is the wrong answer. The wrong answer. Everyone has the potential to do something half decent on this planet but no–one (in particular) is likely to. It is only by ignoring the odds that anyone is going to achieve anything. And that, I guess, is why a bit of chutzpah is no bad thing. Stuff it. Ballett Frankfurt, my comments stand. But thank you for an interesting evening. Now I guess I ought to start thinking about what the hell my own work is going to be.