Excerpts from my ‘Stock Exchange’ notes and thoughts;
I write a blog, an activity which has significantly raised the profile of ‘audience’ in my mind – people contact me with responses to my posts, or treat me with avaricious delight when they meet me, having read the blog. I used to be pleased and surprised that people had read it. Currently I’m unsettled about who has and hasn’t read it, and what assumptions they have made based on what they read. The blog has inhabited an ambiguous space between truth and invention. It’s a way of examining and subverting the private and public. The process of selecting, editing, enhancing stories to include is a creative one.
But now I am inhibited by an imagined audience of critics and experience anxiety about being discovered/outed by neighbours and parents at the school gate, who, until now have assumed that I’m the same as them, and only discover I’m not through reading the blog. I can easily imagine the response to this sort of self indulgent rambling… good Yorkshire straight speaking ‘bollocks’
