is there a time to throw everything away?

 Just before Christmas, I was approached by someone I used to know, a long time ago, on the comics scene. He was interested in including my comics in an exhibition, upcoming, but still embargoed; not allowed to talk about it with anyone. Made some sense; exhibitions like this tend to at some point hit a moment when they remember these diverse and interesting scenes, and wonder why the usual suspects who have contributed their work are all so, well self-similar.

But it also made very little sense; why go looking for the lost from the scene when you have the survivors easily to hard? We ping-ponged emails and eventually it came to nothing. So it goes.

Feelings are complicated when it comes to brushes with fame, even tiny, corner-of-the-room fame. On one hand its nice to be seen, on the other hand it's horrible to be criticised or dismissed, and putting your stuff up on a wall is an invitation to both. At the far end of a show waits the spectre of being ignored again, even if for a bit you were on the walls with the others.

I have a lot of bits and bobs -- minicomics, merch, objects -- made by various marginalised comics and zine creators. And me, of course. But each year there is a run of groaning and scraping as the room makes it clear that not much more will fit and more goes. But so it goes. Lots of things don't last, and nothing lasts forever.