I do not like the overly-precious treatment of that magical, held-far-away thing called ART. This ART, I am told, in hushed, reverent tones, is so big, so full of genius, so beyond our understanding. This ART has to be dimly lit and we mustn’t disturb it. This is the kind of thing I think kills it and everyone, with dust, bureaucracy and boredom.Art is about life, extreme, minute, magnified, amplified, messy, intricate, seething, full of motion or utterly held on the cusp of terrifying possibility, pregnant, overspilling, giddy. 

I think an interesting starting point is to look at something – each other, the world, inwards, upwards – in the eyes, for rather longer than ‘normal’ and really seeing. Some question will come up perhaps. Then drowning, jumping, running barefoot, stamping, stabbing, digging, singing, stretching, scratching – make some noise, shake up space – all the elements in the world may surge out of you, maybe as slow as lava, but hot hot hot.