Alright, so I’ve been meaning to talk about this little project, or rather, this rabbit hole I went down, concerning what I started calling my “sydney vicious” phase. It’s not about anything violent, mind you, but more about the sheer, well, viciousness of trying to get a grip on a certain raw, underground current I sensed in parts of the city’s creative scene.
My Starting Point: Just a Vague Feeling
It all began a while back. I’d been living in Sydney for a bit, and beyond the shiny harbour and all that, I kept getting whiffs of something more… intense. Fleeting glimpses, conversations cut short. People would mention certain names, places, or just an “energy,” but when I tried to pin it down, it was like trying to catch smoke. I got obsessed with understanding this underbelly, this “vicious” creativity that seemed to operate just out of sight.
So, what did I do? Well, I started by just listening. Hanging out in different spots, places that weren’t in the tourist guides. I’d go to these tiny gallery openings, really obscure music nights, you name it. My goal wasn’t to become an ‘insider’ but just to observe and maybe understand what made this particular scene tick, or if it even was a ‘scene’ at all.
The Grind: Trying to Connect the Dots
This is where the “vicious” part really kicked in for me. It wasn’t about people being mean; it was the sheer difficulty of it. Information was gold, and nobody was just handing it out. It felt like a test, almost.
My process was pretty old-school, I guess:
- Talking to people: This was hit or miss. Some folks were open, shared a story or two. Others would just clam up, or give you that look, you know? The “you’re not from around here” vibe.
- Digging through archives: I spent ages in local libraries, looking at old zines, posters, anything that might give a clue. Found some amazing stuff, but a lot of dead ends too.
- Just being there: Honestly, a lot of it was just showing up. Repeatedly. To the same places, the same types of events. Hoping to absorb something through osmosis.
The frustration was real. There were weeks I felt like I was chasing ghosts. I’d hear about some legendary performance or a clandestine art show always after it happened. It was like the scene was actively resisting being documented, or maybe I just wasn’t asking the right questions, or talking to the right people. Probably a bit of both.
A Moment of Clarity, Sort Of
I remember this one particularly frustrating evening. I’d been trying to find this supposedly legendary, tiny, unmarked venue for weeks. Got a tip, went there, and it was just a boarded-up shopfront. I was about to give up for the night, feeling like a complete fool. Then, as I was walking away, I saw a faint light flicker from a basement window down the alley. Peeking in, I saw a couple of people, art supplies scattered everywhere, intense discussion. It wasn’t the “venue,” but it was something. It was a tiny crack of light.
That moment didn’t magically unlock everything, but it shifted my perspective. This “sydney vicious” thing, as I’d termed it, wasn’t a monolithic entity. It was fragmented, fiercely independent, and thrived in the margins. The “viciousness” was its defense mechanism, its way of staying pure, or maybe just surviving.
What I Took Away From It All
So, did I ever fully “document” or “understand” it? Nah, not really. And I think that’s the point. It’s not meant to be neatly packaged. My practice here wasn’t about achieving some grand journalistic exposé. It was about the attempt, the process of trying to connect with something raw and authentic.
What I learned was that some things aren’t meant to be easily found or understood from the outside. The real value was in the looking, the persistence, and the small human connections made along the way, even the awkward or frustrating ones. That chase, that almost obsessive need to uncover something hidden, that was my “sydney vicious” experience. And honestly, despite the headaches, I wouldn’t trade those explorations. It taught me a lot about patience, and about how the most interesting things are often just off the beaten path, guarded by a bit of necessary ‘viciousness’.
