It was one of those party’s that started in the middle of the afternoon. One of those parties where those attending are old enough to know how to pace themselves to make it through to breakfast the following morning.
We were in costume; a future imagined by imaginary Victorians – steam powered, tea driven, opium crazed adventurers, delighting in the whimsicality of the post colonialism of it all. Or at least I was.
At about six in the evening that an attractive aviator handed me this…
“Read the label.” She said.
…it said.
She smiled as I un-scrolled the contents of the tube.
“That is Fantastic!” Was my response.
Those who have seen the film will get the joke.
She then ordered two more copies of the film, we talked for a while longer and then parted.
Suffice to say it was an interesting trip home.
Two days later I received a text from her.
It said: ‘Retraced Anton Vagus walk in Exeter up Prospect Steps.’
This is a level of engagement with the film I had not expected but absolutely delight in.
My current definition of art is this:
That it speaks of a soul, or it speaks to your soul.
I am beginning to think that this might be because, in what each of us calls art, we recognise a soul; a complete experience, one that might be changed or altered by it’s context but retains something that withstands relocation; it can stand by itself.
The Great Walk appears to be just that for some people. There are people who appear to be in conversation with it, beyond any relationship they have to those of us who made it.
I like that.
In fact I think it’s rather great.
So thank you all for playing.
Yolo.
Mr X
all material © 2014
