If the last issue was about just doing it anyway even if it’s cringe, then this issue is about just doing it anyway even if it’s late.

ISSUE01 was a struggle, but it was fueled by a rush of adrenaline from doing something new. In getting it done, we created some truly magical proof-of-concept for our magazine.

For ISSUE02 the sprint became a marathon. ORANGUTAN is about the sparks created by the friction between creative, work and personal worlds in the lives of young people. The question now is: How do we welcome ORANGUTAN into that friction.

I’ve been reflecting a lot on my decision to remain in the arts sector. After my dad’s life-altering heart attack last year, I began preparing to exit the arts permanently. I needed to seek ways to be a reliable pillar in his life, and part of that was to pursue a life in an industry that wouldn’t throw me from city to city and unpaid gig to unpaid gig.

Just as I was about to lock-in and follow that new path I had a vision for a body of work. A ridiculous, crazy, risky and audacious body of work which I now call Mate Manawa. A series weaving dad’s heart attack, with a heartbreak of my own.

I knew if I were to do it, it had to be now. So, I looked in the mirror. I breathed in. I opened my bank account. It’s okay to be 24 years old and only see four digits. Right? I know someone who took out a personal loan to go to a music festival in Europe! Would it be so bad to buy a plane ticket of my own? Those four digits are all I’ve got.

I am a crazed artist. I will make four digits work.

Grace and I both wrestle with this idea of choosing to remain in the arts. There's a conflict of interest between our goals in this sector, versus our goals in our personal worlds. Staying in the arts is actively sabotaging our personal goals. It would be nice to have a dog. To have pot plants in a nice house in a nice part of town. To make art with your friends and not worry that the cost of making will set you back. To be stable enough to share that stability with your sick parents. Yet, we choose to stay. To make it work.

I’ve left the arts once already and I’m about to do it again. But in all likelihood, I’ll return once again in some shape or form. Truth is, I was an outsider from the start, mainly because I like being the outsider. I’m fascinated by how art can survive in such a volatile and violent environment as it does.

Tardigrades. No matter the circumstance the arts will exist and tardigrades like us will be there enjoying it. Maybe we should have called this magazine TARDIGRADE.

When we launched ISSUE01, I’d just arrived in Melbourne for a short arts admin contract. I’d been jumping between short festival contracts since I left news writing. I’m currently ‘in-between’ contracts, otherwise known as unemployed, and making moves to step into research support roles not necessarily related to the arts.

Zack and I share our affinity for big ideas and big follow-through, but we’re also both realists. Sometimes you need to know when to push and sometimes when not to. Especially if we’re talking about marathons here.

Eventually, I want to use research to demystify this thing we call “creative labour.” What we’re talking about is insecure and precarious work patterns. That’s creative labour, really, when it comes down to it. What I believe though, wholeheartedly, is that it doesn’t have to be this way.

The arts and its ability to survive astounds me. It is off the backs of artists and arts workers that it can. In the same way I’m willing to do crazy things like this project, with wonderfully crazy people like Zack.

Next week I’m going to observe and write up a report on the APHIDS’ Resilience Roundtable. It’s a public forum for practitioners to share their ideas on how we can continue to create and connect in the face of exhaustion, precarity, and change. I hope one day I can actually make a tangible dent in improving the working lives of artists and art workers. But as always, I think it’s tied to being in connection with other people, other industries and other ideas. Exactly what we strive to bring together with ORANGUTAN.

ISSUE02 has some truly industrious individuals who chose to contribute their ideas and work. The dramaturgical thread of this issue showed itself to us through our wonderful contributors: Dani Zhang, Gabrielle Fallen, Myfanwy Hocking, and Steph Lee in collaboration with Sarah Iman, Anita Mei La Terra, Louisa Cusumano, Jackie van Lierop and Raven Rogers-Wright.

Doing the thing sometimes means pulling away for a little while, to give yourself time to remember why you loved it in the first place. Doing the thing doesn’t mean you have to swallow all the shit that can come with it. Doing the thing doesn’t have to be a struggle. Doesn’t have to always feel burdensome. If we do the thing together, maybe we can do it better.