My baby

In 2010 myself and my fellow co-founders created a new little being. We talked about it, decided it was a good time for each of us, professionally and personally, and we made preparations for the companies arrival. We toyed with names wistfully, we conceived what we'd do together and what our future might look like.

The birth of our company was an exhilarating, exhausting time. It had come from nothing, and needed us to keep it alive. All our energy was spent those crazy, intense but thrilling early days feeding, strengthening and growing our little creation. We'd never done this before, it was a first for us all, and so of course, we made mistakes and we made it up as went along with the vague reassurance that lots of other people had done this successfully before. Our little handiwork was the first thing I thought of when I woke up, eagerly checking to see if anything had happened while I slept. It was the last thing I thought of at night, if i could squeeze in an extra few minutes just spending a little more time doing what I loved with this thing I loved.

Years passed and the needs and demands of the company grew with its advancement and growth. The more it wanted to do, the more support it needed.

After some time and adjustment I was able to stand back and look at this creation with pride, and felt confident that this fledgling of ours was developing into something that could try more complex and ambitious things, and would start to need fuel from me less and less. I could wean myself back, into the background and allow other people to interact and have influence.

Unfortunately, we were sidelined right when it looked like our little opus was about to stand on its own two feet and get moving. We had a nasty fall, and the world was a different place after that set back. But up we got, dusted down, and set to again.


I found out I was pregnant at just two weeks. I had my suspicions (we were trying) and I announced to the rest of the company fairly early, as I was throwing my guts up and it was effecting our rehearsals and my attendance. I had always been at literally every show, and every rehearsal, the girls would have known something was up.
I assured everyone, that nothing would change, and that I would work right up to the birth and then get back to it while they were cutting the umbilical chord. My laptop would be rested on the babies bottom while it fed.

OBVIOUSLY this is not what happened.

I did work up until the last minute. I popped on the Thursday and I'd been planning and adminning the day before, having just finished the last performance of our Summer Fairy Tale Tour two weeks earlier.
However something had changed in me during my pregnancy. I had lovely hormones forcing me to slow down and chill out - gain perspective, but I also had a shift in my affections. I had a new baby, and I loved it more.

There I said it. It feels horrible to say, but naturally it's completely true.  NOTHING is more important to me than my son, he is the absolute centre of my world and I'm in love and obsessed with him.

Getting back to work after having my baby has been weird. I feel resentful of any wasted time - what if while I'm fannying about waiting for photoshop to open and load to make this new flyer, B stands up and Port de Bras at 2 months old. I don't want to miss it!

We have all had various shifts in our priorities over the last year or so. Whether its children, new houses, new jobs, opportunities, partners, emotional wellbeing - there will always be things that turn our heads and as we get older, take on more, and choices seem to make a bigger impact, we are changing the way we work...for now. We are definitely stripping back to only making projects that make us wee with excitement. Projects that ignite our creative passion,  that the very idea of them not coming to fruition forces us to nurture and grow those little seeds of inspiration into strong pieces of work.

I haven't abandoned by old baby for my my new one, I still have love for her, she was my twenties!

Cha-Ching

Starting again means looking back at where things went wrong last time and trying to avoid making the same mistakes.

Some mistakes are easy to make again, because they are part of an alluring vicious cycle, and you find yourself, all to easily, falling back into those comfortable, friendly old habits. We need to truly recognise how and why we made these mistakes first time round to break the cycle. Intervene and create a new virtuous one. 

Money is a bitch. Not having money is also a bitch, and let's be honest, pretty essential to every business. How can you make anything without it? How can your business grow? 

I hate thinking about our company as a business, it makes it seem so serious and urgent. I don't think our work should be made in a rush. I'm not altogether sure I agree that all practicing artists have to think of themselves as a business. When we made work without thinking about money, it was more truthful, exciting and ambitious. We have been repeatedly persuaded, throughout the companies existence, that money should be a driving factor of our work, in order to create a sustainable company with longevity.

Six Lips Theatre was founded through a Creative Business incubation program. The idea was to assist young artists in creating sustainable business models. We told the program mentors and supervisors what we wanted to do, and they told us what else we might need to do to ensure there was a steady ongoing income. 

We hated all of the ideas. All of them. We were sure we could find a way to gradually make money doing the projects we wanted to. People would invest in us and our work, because it was truthful, exciting and ambitious and so were we! 

And this is how we made work for years. Glorious years. We made enough to cover our costs and support the next project. There was steady growth, and plenty of ideas in the barrel to have a scrape around. 

So what happened? An organisation stunted our momentum, growth and creativity, by advising us that our current mode of business was

"Over ambitious"
"Unrealistic"
"Unsustainable"

We should stop what we were doing and focus on one project, and rely on Arts Council funding to make that achievable. Yes! We were told to stop our independent, successful and growing strategy, to instead strip back and put all our eggs in a lottery basket. 

At the time we were young and so excited to be taken on by a big producing company, we were wowed by them. They promised 100% success rate in their bid writing, and had some rather exciting names on their books, however £2000 of our money and one failed bid submission later they dropped us. We had given them all the money we had, and we had stopped making work to focus on a project we could no longer do.

Looking back we never really recovered from that experience. We felt naive for thinking it was that easy, and embarrassed that we'd been picked up as a new burgeoning company, to only be dropped at the first hurdle. Like a band getting signed and dropped by a record label before they even got into the studio to make some music.

We thought 'fuck them' we'll find a way to scrape this project off the floor. We are doers. Well we did develop that project and we took it on tour, £2000 less (which would have come in handy).

Since we had that experience, we have had some good years, creatively and financially. We've worked on some incredible projects with some amazing people - particular highlights have been Young Roots with York Mind and our Fairy Tale Library Tours with the hilarious and talented Miss Trout. We have had some good times, we have made some powerful work, work I have passionately enjoyed and we are very proud of. 

But that momentum has never returned. Every project feels like an uphill struggle before you've even jumped on your metaphorical creative bike. We expect obstacles and we dread looking for the money. Not another bloody bid/ application/ fundraiser.

We fell into a money rut. It's easy to see how it happens. With every passing year, it becomes a little more disheartening when you have to do a job for free. You've been doing this a long time, and you're good at it, it's time you got paid for your time. 
You have to take on work which is (hopefully) linked to some of your interests (creatively or thematically) because of the fees attached. I think everyone has done this from time to time in their professional life. The outcome can be very pleasing in terms of the work produced but nothing gives you the sense of fulfilment you get from satisfying our own creative itch. 

It got to the point where no one wanted to apply for anything to fund the ideas, and no one was excited by the ideas because they'd been bent out of shape to fit clearly into this formula. No money and no work.

So, our simple mistake over the years was to assume that we were naive and unrealistic at the beginning. We thought we'd got it all wrong and we'd look back years later and laugh at our approach to work and money:

"Do you remember when we were young and fresh and we just made the work we wanted to, that was important to us, and we didn't try and hard sell it, or get anyone on board, or look for funders, we just put it out there. How ridiculous and funny"

But actually, what's not funny is that those were the happiest times, and the most satisfying creatively.

We're starting over, we're not going to make the same mistakes twice, we're breaking the cycle. We are going to make work naively, just put it out there.

There is nothing like seeing your own truth, the work you passionately want to make, through to fruition...even if you don't get paid.

Starting Over

Let's be honest: Everyone likes a clean slate. There have been times where it has felt like the company has been stretched and mutated by the personal ongoings, and goings on, of the people within it - dramatically and fluidly.

Like a favourite glove that's been over worn we have to ask ourselves: Is it time to chuck this in and start afresh? Do we wait until this thing has gaping holes in it where it's currently only slightly worn, exposing the flesh beneath?

It would be so easy, and there are things, memories and projects I'd be glad to see the back of. Here say, ghosts and realities of the past have left bitter tastes and created enemies. We don't have the loyalty and following we once did. It feels as though we've fallen and are marred by particular events, particular dealings, poisoned and tarnished, it would just feel so liberating to shed that skin and slap on a new one. It just looks so appealing to leave all that behind.

A glove is a bad analogy though, because a glove is purely functional. Disregarding potential sentimental attachment, a glove has a sole purpose and a job to perform (excuse the pun) and it would be rendered useless if it was tattered and full of holes. This company is not just functional, its variable, evolutional and transmogrifying. It is supposed to reflect the beauty and ugliness of the people in it and their metamorphosing lives, interests and art.

This company was my baby until I had a real baby. We formed in 2010 and I have spent 8 years making, failing, learning, bruising, owing, paying, fighting, loving and laughing with this company and the people in it. I'm not about to throw all that away. I'm proud of the mistakes we have made, as much as I am the success we have had.

The work we set out to make evolved and altered. We tried new things, got scared, got brave and got poor. We've gotten a bit lost on our digressions on a few occasions, and we've had expectations we had no right to have. The older you get the deeper your entanglements in life root and it's sometimes hard to remember why you do this.

We seem to have a trail of messy relationships behind us. Unions that felt so right creatively, or mutually beneficial partnerships which worked so well and fruitfully, turned sour and broke down. All relationships are two sided and although it's easy to blame the party who chooses not to say anything, not to retaliate and share their truth, we have been left feeling a bit wounded by how readily people have accepted us as brazen villains. We sadly have lost a few special people this way.

Well, we are starting again, sort of. We are not abandoning ship, not yet anyway. This vessels got some enlightening and difficult journeys in her yet. We are, instead, cleansing ourselves of all the bullshit we have hung on to, which has anchored our confidence to leap forward again and shout about it. Anything that has made us feel rejected, small, incapable, unaccomplished embarrassed and ashamed, has to be left behind. You can't make your art truthful if it's weighed down in insecurity. You're second guessing yourself and your work is censored.

We are moving onwards and upwards, and if you are reading this, we hope to take you with us. We accept your view of us whatever that might be: hasbeens, wannabees, washouts or sellouts. As long as you have a view of us, that's all that matters.

Inspiring Women

Yo Yo Mutha Flippers (Hannah's input),

We're back after a short break due to babies, houses, businesses and general life expanding.
 I'm sure you thought you'd seen the last of us, you might have enjoyed our lips falling silent, but don't get comfortable. We have lots of exciting new plans, and a big project on the horizon. Just you try and stop us bitch! (also Hannah's input).

It might sound like we're gobbing off, but actually we are interested in your stories. You could call us Six Ears Theatre. I mean, don't. But you could.


The project!

We are interested in female muses.

We want to know which artists have, and continually inspire your practice and your life. Who has made you the artist you are?

If you could make a piece of work to celebrate your relationship with that artist and their work how, where and with what would you do it?

One might like to explore Lili Elbe in photography on the Blackpool North Pier Jetty, for example.

We hope that this open discussion within our network  - and further afield (please share) - will inspire us (women) and become a larger piece of work. Send your answers any way you please; by email, post, twitter, vimeo, carrier pigeon, barber shop quartet.

Lots of Love

The Lips xx