Maybe Luke was scared people wouldn’t know he was working if he was doing a Masters in art. Nothing is as thrilling as a new idea and nothing is worse than it staying as that. The world’s not short of shitehawks with great plans. It’s done when it’s in your hand. It’s done when you can point at it.
Denying art is easy. Denying work is hard. Every knows what a shift is, heads can see that if they can’t see anything else. You sleep better. Art doesn’t always need to be fine. It can have some sweat dried on it and some bristles coming out of it.
Artists only asked him two things, how much was it costing and did he have permission. But he told Mike on the last day in Dublin he wouldn’t have spent it on anything else. And the people we needed on board saw it, even if it smelled a bit crazy. He reckoned if he asked people to help and it was awesome enough, they would. The lads in the lumber yard thought we were mental but they were asking after the whole thing by the end as we trudged in with another hill of requests.
So the offer is open. Throw the day at it. Everything takes longer than you thought but you’ll get it all twice back. Tell a story you’d forgotten to someone who’s never heard it. While you’re at it, be knee deep in a new one.
We need more time on our feet and out of breath. Get the head down during the day and the tail up during the night. There’s loads out there. Chase rigour, slam doors, drink passion, cause the problem, make the time, laugh harder and stand near men of appetites. Find out.