The latest work on the board is so close to completion - right on the heels of one of the most inspiring weeks of my life.
Last week, I travelled to Melbourne to see the David Bowie Is.... Exhibition, at ACMI. I was already thrilled to be going - but nothing prepared me for the reality of the experience.
I was 13 when my eldest sister gave me an Aladdin Sane poster. It hung on my wall in my bedroom while I studied art and music; Bowie albums played while I wrote poetry and essay, while I read futurist and post-apocalyptic literature, while I learned about Miro, Warhol, Dali, Picasso, Pollock.
Bowie was the core of my art life.
I walked into the exhibition, and there was my life. Design, art, literature, video, film, interviews that I had watched a hundred times, everything that was an expression of my life in art. Warhol, Dali, the written lyrics of songs that I knew like old friends, costumes that were the visual partners to defining moments of my life, and music that had been the soundtrack to my own movie. I was confronted with every memory, every love, every heartbreak, because Bowie had always been attached to every important aspect of my life. There aren't words to do it justice - it wasn't just a great curation of a collection of work and dreams - it was personal. It was so personal, I was nearly in tears. Here were the ideas that were at the center of my existence as an artist.
It took days to digest the experience. There was nothing to be done but sit and be enamoured of reliving all that inspiration, all that wonder and awe of a universe of BEING.
And the week was far from over.
I was young when I started clubbing - it was early days, and security wasn't that tight, and a tall 14 year old with a bad attitude could get in anywhere. And I loved to dance. Still do. Dancing at the clubs was a social thing for most people, a chance to listen to some music, hang out - I was constantly on the dancefloor, didn't care about anything else.
Club culture was a part of life - I ended up working in the industry, as a hyper, DJ, bartender, security, promotions and marketing, management, you name it, I did it. I was the entertainment on several occasions as well.
Years see change - a young, ambitious DJ appeared on the scene, with a kind of music only heard in the underground clubs. I was introduced to him at the launch of his second album, this dark, moody character, so intense and so focused, and by that time everyone was RAVING about this guy. I stood at the DJ box and watched him work all night. I was surrounded by DJs at the time, and this lad was pretty cool.
Suddenly, I couldn't get into a car without hearing the latest SKITZMIX. It was everywhere - on the radio, in people's homes, at the clubs. We were surrounded by dance. For the first time, dance was no longer just in the clubs, it was a new way of life. The hype was unbeliveable. Clubs were no longer just social spaces, it was all about the latest mix, and getting the amp on the zone, and tuning in - life changed. The culture changed. Suddenly people wanted to get out on the dance floor and live there; it was all about the music.
And a new generation of dance music producers was born, and an artform moved out of the underground and into the mainstream.
Nick Skitz released SKITZMIX Volume 50 this year.
No other producer has such a history in dance music, no other has had the significant impact on Australian culture, no other has been such a monumental inspiration to so many others. Dance music is still a niche genre, but it is a household term. People know what it is, people can hear it in every day life.
And at the launch, I stood at the DJ box, and watched Nick work.
It's been a big week.