If we weren’t writers, we’d be surfers. We (Mike Loewe and Steve Kretzmann) are journalists, aged 54 and 41. Steve’s an art critic, journalist, sub-editor, photographer, and won the National Arts Festival/BASA arts journalism gold award this year for reviewing. Mike’s done it too, except for the NAF award bit.
We’ve been mates in the independent small (poor, but free) category. We lasted a long time after liberation but a tougher corporate media world and our own financial stupidity finally squeezed us out. Mike has a job, Steve’d like one.
We blame the arts for all this. If it wasn’t those damn creative devils spinning their magic we’d have gone straight and our children would be driving cars and surfing in Indo with us.
Actually, we’d like to think arts sets us free to think, and experience and cry and shout at each other and occasionally buy each other too many drinks.
Steve’s the quiet thoughtful one. Mike’s lips are like that of a wave, always ahead of him and ready to fall on his head. We’ve covered quite a few NAF fests with blogging, Wordfest newspaper, and reporting for our mainstream clients (who pay the rent).
Like many other brilliant projects, we have no idea where we are going but we know it will be brilliant.