Interview: The Art of Listening in Swindon town centre
Rebecca Bellamy created a giant pink paper mâché boot for the purpose of sparking conversations with strangers. The boot was made with layers of (then) current national and local news articles, made with discarded cardboard and paper bags.
The boot was first brought to Swindon town centre on the 16th of May 2026, as part of the national campaign Million Acts of Hope. And to coincide with a rally happening in London ‘Unite the Kingdom.’ It was later reported that at the rally Tommy Robinson AKA Stephen Christopher Yaxley-Lennon asked attendees, “Are you ready for the Battle of Britain?”. It was also reported that the rally included Islamophobic and ethnonationalist hate speech and flyers. With a society feeling in many ways divided and disconnected, the Giant Pink Boot sought to help the Artist (Rebecca) encounter the stranger through inviting warm spontaneous conversation with passers-by.
Below is an interview between Rebecca Bellamy and Andy O’Hanlon. Andy has many decades experience in public and community arts and is Trustee of the Quaker Arts Network, of which Rebecca is a member. This was his first visit to Swindon town centre.
Part 1: The Landscape of Swindon town centre
Andy: So, this is Swindon town centre.
Rebecca: This is it. We have a reasonable-sized town centre; it’s not quite a city, but it has a large population for a town, a population larger than many cities. That building over there is the local Wetherspoons. It used to be a picture house.
Andy: There seem to be a lot of empty shops around here.
Rebecca: There are. Over the years, the big chain shops have closed, and there’s a lot of disgruntlement, disappointment, and frustration about that. People feel like there isn’t much left for them to come into town for. The big department stores are gone, and there are very few clothes stores left. Of course online shopping has boomed.
We have a ring road with those out-of-town retail parks, and it’s pulling footfall away from the centre. The council's strategic plan had been to set up these satellite centres rather than keeping everything at the heart of the town. But a lot of people are grieving the loss of the centre.
Where we just came from, there used to be a whole shopping area with a large Morrisons, a cinema, and chain restaurants. It all closed over the last five years. People living near the centre have lost their local supermarket and their cinema.
Half of the shopping centre just ahead there, that is closed now too.
Andy: It certainly has the feel of a classic industrialized town.
Part 2: The Giant Pink Boot Experiment
Andy: Can you describe how you chose the location for your installation in the town centre?
Rebecca: Yes. I had to think carefully about where to set up. There are areas in Swindon town centre where people often speak publicly, often proselytising with microphones. I didn’t want to be positioned right beside them, so I chose a spot along what is called the parade. It’s near the bus stops, so there’s a steady flow of people moving through. It felt like a natural place for encounters.
Andy: Did you inform the police in advance?
Rebecca: I did, a few weeks beforehand. I explained that it would just be me setting up a large artwork—not a protest or a political event, nor fundraising. And that it would just be me and some cardboard. I think it helped prevent confusion. It ended up being shared across several departments—community policing, the town centre team, and others—but it didn’t lead to much discussion. It was simply about making them aware of my intention.
Andy: What motivated the project? Was it more about art or conversation?
Rebecca: Both, but the social engagement- the conversations with strangers was the motivation. My background is in community dialogue work, but those are usually organised spaces where I have a lot of control. This time I wanted to challenge myself by going out into public space, where I couldn’t control who might approach or what might happen. It felt more vulnerable—but meant I might meet people I would be unlikely to meet in the other spaces. The artwork was an invitation for conversation but by conversing with me, passers-by became participants in the artwork.
Andy: Tell me about the boot. Why that symbol?
Rebecca: It started with a simple idea: asking people, “What’s it like being in your shoes?” It’s a familiar phrase, almost humorous, but it can also open up deeper reflection. I later adapted it to “What’s it like being in your shoes today?” That felt less intrusive as one of my opening questions and gave people space to share as much or as little as they wanted.
Andy: How did people respond when they approached you?
Rebecca: Often they would initiate the conversation themselves by asking, “What’s this about?” I’d usually say, “I made this giant boot to start conversations with strangers.” If they stayed, I might introduce the question by saying, “I’m asking people what’s it like being in your shoes today” and if they seemed a bit hesitant then I said to some people, “see, you and I would have passed each other by, but instead we’re having a conversation” and usually that got a smile and a nod, if not a longer chat. I tried to keep initial interactions fairly light but show willing to listen and some people wanted to share more.
Andy: It sounds like there was an element of unpredictability.
Rebecca: Sure, that was part of the point. I had to accept that anything could happen. At one moment, the wind nearly carried the boot away, and people I was speaking with helped me steady it. At another point, during a heavy burst of rain, someone stepped in to help move it to shelter. Those moments became part of the experience—it wasn’t just conversation; there was also shared laughter and problem solving.
Andy: We’re coming up to the area where you set up your project. Is this the spot?
Rebecca: Almost. Just over there. If only the weather had been like this on the day! It would have been perfect.
Andy: Mind you, there's hardly anyone around today. Maybe people wouldn't have come out. Was it busier when you did it?
Rebecca: Oh yeah, it was a lot busier than this. I did it on a Saturday, from mid-morning to mid-afternoon. A lot of this landscaping is brand new, by the way. They put in these wildflowers and lovely planting just last year. Before that, it was just an open, concrete space. It feels really nice now, and it was great to see people sitting around.
So, I set my boot up right here. This adjacent road is what they call the "bus boulevard," where all the buses from across town come in. You have a constant stream of people walking past to get to the main bus station nearby. People walk up the street, come back down, or head into that Tesco Express. Right behind it is the old Debenhams, which has been closed for a long time.
Andy: It’s a fantastic pitch for street theatre. You catch people on their way to the shops, heading to transport, or disappearing into town. As a backdrop, it’s highly approachable. Clearly, it worked.
Rebecca: It did! I had the giant boot, and then I had a poster board made of cardboard in front of it. I had to weigh the board down with cans of drink because the wind kept trying to blow it away. I had to do quite a lot of last-minute problem-solving because things kept attempting to fly off or were getting dislodged.
Andy: You’re talking about the structural engineering of it! Is there anything you’d build differently next time?
Rebecca: Yes, practically, I’d make the posters even bigger. As they were, people had to get within about a metre to really read them. Next time, I want people to be able to read them from six or seven metres away.
But in terms of the conversations, they went as well as they could. I had to judge people’s body language, decide how comfortable they felt, and figure out how much to press or further the conversation. Everyone came with a different level of readiness to talk, so I just had to adapt. It’s surprising how much depth you can find with absolute strangers.
Of course, some people just looked at me funny and walked off. I even had someone get quite angry about it being classified as art. They looked at it and shouted, "Call that art!" Their body language was defensive from the start.
Andy: That’s typical, isn't it? The last time I went on a public vigil, an old guy on a motorized scooter shouted at me to "Go back to Moscow!" He was definitely living in another age. You take on all of that energy when you metaphorically expose yourself in public. People always make assumptions that it’s a council initiative or paid for by local tax rates.
Rebecca: Exactly! That’s why I explicitly wrote "Independent Art Project" on the poster.
Andy: Was declaring it as "art" the most important thing to put out there?
Rebecca: I felt like declaring myself as an artist who was there just to create art felt like a clear opening. It showed I wasn’t doing this for the council or an organization with an agenda. My agenda was to have conversations with strangers and if anything more, then perhaps just by example, to encourage others to think about whether they might find ways to break out of their bubbles too.
Andy: Did you get a chance to engage with the local kids? I see some kids on bikes over there now.
Rebecca: I did. A group of kids on bikes hung around for a while. They wouldn't talk to me directly at first, but they were curious, and they stayed long enough for me to explain the purpose of the project. I’d like to think that curiosity in the project might seed something in them for the future.
Even for the people who walked past, read the poster, and didn’t feel confident enough to chat—maybe the fact that they bothered to read it means something could possibly have landed. Maybe they went home thinking, "That’s a nice idea, talking to people you don’t know. Wonder when I last did that." But I’ll never know.
Andy: Did you get bothered by any rowdy crowds, drunks, or homeless people?
Rebecca: No, not at all, though plenty of people warned me I would. One person told me it was a really dangerous area and to be careful. But looking around, I didn't feel unsafe. There are toddlers here, people on mobility scooters, young families. If it were truly dangerous, those vulnerable groups wouldn't be hanging around.
I had all sorts of people stop by: including people living in sheltered housing, people with mobility challenges, and parents with children.
Andy: You mentioned you didn’t present it as a religious activity, even though your Quaker faith influenced it.
Rebecca: That’s right. It was important to me that this remained an open, human interaction rather than a form of outreach. My motivations were personal, but I didn’t want to frame the project in religious terms. But I also feel called to experiment with dialogue work, for peace. And that isn’t something I can separate from my Quaker faith and witness.
Andy: What kind of atmosphere were you hoping to create?
Rebecca: A sense of openness and connection. There’s a lot of division and disconnection in society, we’re all functioning within familiar social bubbles and I wanted to create a small space where people could have positive interactions with someone they don’t know—even if they have very different views.
Andy: Did you take any steps to make the setup more approachable?
Rebecca: Yes, I put up posters explaining the project and included some humorous lines like, “All this effort for some conversation—bit tragic,” or “This is a bit odd, but okay.” It was a way of acknowledging how it might look from the outside and helping people feel at ease, break the ice by poking fun at myself to some extent.
Andy: Who do you think was being more courageous—the passersby or you?
Rebecca: That’s a good question. I suppose there’s vulnerability on both sides. For me, I was putting myself out there in a very visible way. But for people walking past, approaching a stranger and stepping into an unknown conversation also takes courage.
Andy: What are your plans for the project moving forward?
Rebecca: I’d like to continue using the same boot and see if it can have a longer life. A lot of love and effort went into making it with help of friends, so I want to build on that rather than start something entirely new. I’m also thinking about how to involve others, but carefully—because part of the project’s strength is that it’s just one person inviting strangers into conversation.
Andy: That balance sounds challenging.
Rebecca: It is. If too many people I know gather around, it changes the dynamic. Strangers might feel less comfortable approaching. So I’m trying to find a way to sustain the project while keeping that sense of openness and vulnerability.
Andy: It strikes me that the boot is an object of art to be looked at, rather than a puppet to be animated. It acts as a silent third party to the conversation—a quiet observer sitting in the background. You need that physical presence. Standing out here with a clipboard definitely wouldn't work. By avoiding a puppet or a persona, you aren't pretending to be a character or tricking anyone. Before I spoke to you and I just saw photos, I wondered if it was like those fibreglass sculpture trails you see decorated by different artists for charity fundraising, like giant rabbits.
Rebecca: Right, it’s passive. It’s like a temporary piece of street art. It serves a similar purpose to those public fibreglass sculpture art trails only really in that it's a spectacle that draws curiosity, but instead of scanning a QR code that connects with some app or webpage, instead when you approach the Giant Pink Boot, you get a conversation with a stranger. There was an invitation to write on the boot, put stickers on the boot, but few people did that.
Andy: It’s beautiful. It's a genuine enhancement to this space.
Rebecca: Thank you.
Part 3: Story Listening
Andy: So, the big question on my mind is: what are you going to do with all of these stories you collected?
Rebecca: Nothing.
Andy: Nothing?
Rebecca: Nothing. They are personal stories that people shared with me, and I was privileged to hear them. That is as far as they are going. I’m happy to give people a general sense of the themes, but I don’t want to exploit them. It would feel like a betrayal of trust. I was there to encounter a story with a stranger, not to monetize or use that story for content.
Andy: That’s brilliant. I can see some people asking, "Well, what’s the point then?" But you're learning about other human beings. That is an incredible, rich, and precious experience in itself.
Rebecca: Exactly. It feels incredibly rewarding just to spend hours learning about other human beings. I'm telling people about the project itself—I've posted bits on social media, and the local media actually came down, so it ended up on the local news website. I’ve had messages from people asking when they can see the boot next, so I'm thinking about a longer life for the project. I love the idea of taking it to other places in Swindon and maybe bringing it back to the town centre.
Andy: Do you want to build a community of Rebeccas who make themselves available to share and listen like this?
Rebecca: There are other projects out there centred on dialogue, but I love the idea of making dialogue work fun, accessible, inviting. I'd love it if other people saw this and thought, "Oh, I could do that."
Andy: But you must recognize that you have certain personal attributes that make you uniquely well-suited for this.
Rebecca: Well, I’ve been thinking about how I might prepare or kind of train others to do something similar if they express interest. It wouldn’t even need to involve a big pink boot—though the boot certainly creates the necessary curiosity to bring people in.
But one specific skill I’ve worked on for a long time is the ability to sit with the discomfort of disagreement. That’s the part I think people would find most challenging. If you’re going to encounter people with entirely different views and potentially some different values, you have to remember the purpose is to listen, not to argue or push a position. I didn’t agree with everything I heard, but I wasn't there to change minds; I was there seeking to understand. And you can disagree with someone in a way that doesn't start an argument, but it’s not always easy, especially if they’ve touched on something that pushes one of your buttons.
Andy: It occurs to me that your approach is very tender and careful. It isn't storytelling; it’s story listening. In a town like Swindon—which feels like a mosaic of different markets, meeting places, and distinct communities—putting yourself out there and saying, "I’m interested, tell me” almost makes you a sort of chaplain to the high street.
Rebecca: Wow. It doesn’t quite feel like that to me yet because I’ve only done it once so far, and it still feels like a big experiment. But that’s something to think about!
Part 4: Swindon’s culture
Andy: This street we're walking on now, Havelock Street, has a fantastic independent feel with all its charity shops. To me, it almost feels like a student town.
Rebecca: That’s the odd thing—we don’t have a university or a major student population here.
Andy: Really? The demographic suggests otherwise.
Rebecca: No, it’s not really students; it’s young adults and families. Swindon is seen as one of the last relatively affordable places to live in the south of England, especially compared to places like Bristol. Despite the decline of the high street which is a national issue, there are solid jobs here, it’s a good place to raise a family, and the cultural scene is growing rapidly. In fact, Swindon is currently bidding to become a City of Culture.
Andy: Fantastic! Are you involved in the bid?
Rebecca: I’m contributing as part of the Swindon Culture Collective, which is a network of local arts organisations and artists. I usually participate wearing my storytelling show organiser hat, but I’ve worked on other local projects too.
During the last half-term, I ran workshops for children as part of the "Swindon Imaginarium" inside the shopping centre we just walked through. We had hundreds of children come through the doors in a single day. Speaking to their caregivers—many who were grandparents—I realised just how little there is for children to do here during half-term that is inexpensive. During the autumn and winter breaks, you can’t just leave children on a playground for hours. Grandparents on a tight budget might spend their entire week's budget in the first two days. When it's freezing outside, they get stuck. They were incredibly grateful for a free, drop-in creative activity.
Look, there’s a big painted symbol on the pavement coming up—that’s for the City of Culture bid!
Andy: Why not? Even if you don't win, the process of bidding is incredibly useful for binding a community together. It forces people to cooperate and say, "This is who we are, and this is how we want to change things." Then, when the government or council asks what the town needs, you already have a united answer.
It’s interesting how culture is often treated as a late-stage afterthought—a lifeboat deployed only after everything else has gone down—when it really should be the central driver of a town.
Rebecca: Exactly. Despite the lack of a university or historically its limited arts and cultural investment, Swindon punches above its weight. We have fringe festivals and arts like the storytelling shows I organise, poetry festivals, literature festivals, visual art festivals, science and art festivals, the upcoming Threads Festival, and much more.
Rebecca Bellamy created a giant pink paper mâché boot for the purpose of sparking conversations with strangers. The boot was made with layers of (then) current national and local news articles, made with discarded cardboard and paper bags.
The boot was first brought to Swindon town centre on the 16th of May 2026, as part of the national campaign Million Acts of Hope. And to coincide with a rally happening in London ‘Unite the Kingdom.’ It was later reported that at the rally Tommy Robinson AKA Stephen Christopher Yaxley-Lennon asked attendees, “Are you ready for the Battle of Britain?”. It was also reported that the rally included Islamophobic and ethnonationalist hate speech and flyers. With a society feeling in many ways divided and disconnected, the Giant Pink Boot sought to help the Artist (Rebecca) encounter the stranger through inviting warm spontaneous conversation with passers-by.
Below is an interview between Rebecca Bellamy and Andy O’Hanlon. Andy has many decades experience in public and community arts and is Trustee of the Quaker Arts Network, of which Rebecca is a member. This was his first visit to Swindon town centre.
Part 1: The Landscape of Swindon town centre
Andy: So, this is Swindon town centre.
Rebecca: This is it. We have a reasonable-sized town centre; it’s not quite a city, but it has a large population for a town, a population larger than many cities. That building over there is the local Wetherspoons. It used to be a picture house.
Andy: There seem to be a lot of empty shops around here.
Rebecca: There are. Over the years, the big chain shops have closed, and there’s a lot of disgruntlement, disappointment, and frustration about that. People feel like there isn’t much left for them to come into town for. The big department stores are gone, and there are very few clothes stores left. Of course online shopping has boomed.
We have a ring road with those out-of-town retail parks, and it’s pulling footfall away from the centre. The council's strategic plan had been to set up these satellite centres rather than keeping everything at the heart of the town. But a lot of people are grieving the loss of the centre.
Where we just came from, there used to be a whole shopping area with a large Morrisons, a cinema, and chain restaurants. It all closed over the last five years. People living near the centre have lost their local supermarket and their cinema.
Half of the shopping centre just ahead there, that is closed now too.
Andy: It certainly has the feel of a classic industrialized town.
Part 2: The Giant Pink Boot Experiment
Andy: Can you describe how you chose the location for your installation in the town centre?
Rebecca: Yes. I had to think carefully about where to set up. There are areas in Swindon town centre where people often speak publicly, often proselytising with microphones. I didn’t want to be positioned right beside them, so I chose a spot along what is called the parade. It’s near the bus stops, so there’s a steady flow of people moving through. It felt like a natural place for encounters.
Andy: Did you inform the police in advance?
Rebecca: I did, a few weeks beforehand. I explained that it would just be me setting up a large artwork—not a protest or a political event, nor fundraising. And that it would just be me and some cardboard. I think it helped prevent confusion. It ended up being shared across several departments—community policing, the town centre team, and others—but it didn’t lead to much discussion. It was simply about making them aware of my intention.
Andy: What motivated the project? Was it more about art or conversation?
Rebecca: Both, but the social engagement- the conversations with strangers was the motivation. My background is in community dialogue work, but those are usually organised spaces where I have a lot of control. This time I wanted to challenge myself by going out into public space, where I couldn’t control who might approach or what might happen. It felt more vulnerable—but meant I might meet people I would be unlikely to meet in the other spaces. The artwork was an invitation for conversation but by conversing with me, passers-by became participants in the artwork.
Andy: Tell me about the boot. Why that symbol?
Rebecca: It started with a simple idea: asking people, “What’s it like being in your shoes?” It’s a familiar phrase, almost humorous, but it can also open up deeper reflection. I later adapted it to “What’s it like being in your shoes today?” That felt less intrusive as one of my opening questions and gave people space to share as much or as little as they wanted.
Andy: How did people respond when they approached you?
Rebecca: Often they would initiate the conversation themselves by asking, “What’s this about?” I’d usually say, “I made this giant boot to start conversations with strangers.” If they stayed, I might introduce the question by saying, “I’m asking people what’s it like being in your shoes today” and if they seemed a bit hesitant then I said to some people, “see, you and I would have passed each other by, but instead we’re having a conversation” and usually that got a smile and a nod, if not a longer chat. I tried to keep initial interactions fairly light but show willing to listen and some people wanted to share more.
Andy: It sounds like there was an element of unpredictability.
Rebecca: Sure, that was part of the point. I had to accept that anything could happen. At one moment, the wind nearly carried the boot away, and people I was speaking with helped me steady it. At another point, during a heavy burst of rain, someone stepped in to help move it to shelter. Those moments became part of the experience—it wasn’t just conversation; there was also shared laughter and problem solving.
Andy: We’re coming up to the area where you set up your project. Is this the spot?
Rebecca: Almost. Just over there. If only the weather had been like this on the day! It would have been perfect.
Andy: Mind you, there's hardly anyone around today. Maybe people wouldn't have come out. Was it busier when you did it?
Rebecca: Oh yeah, it was a lot busier than this. I did it on a Saturday, from mid-morning to mid-afternoon. A lot of this landscaping is brand new, by the way. They put in these wildflowers and lovely planting just last year. Before that, it was just an open, concrete space. It feels really nice now, and it was great to see people sitting around.
So, I set my boot up right here. This adjacent road is what they call the "bus boulevard," where all the buses from across town come in. You have a constant stream of people walking past to get to the main bus station nearby. People walk up the street, come back down, or head into that Tesco Express. Right behind it is the old Debenhams, which has been closed for a long time.
Andy: It’s a fantastic pitch for street theatre. You catch people on their way to the shops, heading to transport, or disappearing into town. As a backdrop, it’s highly approachable. Clearly, it worked.
Rebecca: It did! I had the giant boot, and then I had a poster board made of cardboard in front of it. I had to weigh the board down with cans of drink because the wind kept trying to blow it away. I had to do quite a lot of last-minute problem-solving because things kept attempting to fly off or were getting dislodged.
Andy: You’re talking about the structural engineering of it! Is there anything you’d build differently next time?
Rebecca: Yes, practically, I’d make the posters even bigger. As they were, people had to get within about a metre to really read them. Next time, I want people to be able to read them from six or seven metres away.
But in terms of the conversations, they went as well as they could. I had to judge people’s body language, decide how comfortable they felt, and figure out how much to press or further the conversation. Everyone came with a different level of readiness to talk, so I just had to adapt. It’s surprising how much depth you can find with absolute strangers.
Of course, some people just looked at me funny and walked off. I even had someone get quite angry about it being classified as art. They looked at it and shouted, "Call that art!" Their body language was defensive from the start.
Andy: That’s typical, isn't it? The last time I went on a public vigil, an old guy on a motorized scooter shouted at me to "Go back to Moscow!" He was definitely living in another age. You take on all of that energy when you metaphorically expose yourself in public. People always make assumptions that it’s a council initiative or paid for by local tax rates.
Rebecca: Exactly! That’s why I explicitly wrote "Independent Art Project" on the poster.
Andy: Was declaring it as "art" the most important thing to put out there?
Rebecca: I felt like declaring myself as an artist who was there just to create art felt like a clear opening. It showed I wasn’t doing this for the council or an organization with an agenda. My agenda was to have conversations with strangers and if anything more, then perhaps just by example, to encourage others to think about whether they might find ways to break out of their bubbles too.
Andy: Did you get a chance to engage with the local kids? I see some kids on bikes over there now.
Rebecca: I did. A group of kids on bikes hung around for a while. They wouldn't talk to me directly at first, but they were curious, and they stayed long enough for me to explain the purpose of the project. I’d like to think that curiosity in the project might seed something in them for the future.
Even for the people who walked past, read the poster, and didn’t feel confident enough to chat—maybe the fact that they bothered to read it means something could possibly have landed. Maybe they went home thinking, "That’s a nice idea, talking to people you don’t know. Wonder when I last did that." But I’ll never know.
Andy: Did you get bothered by any rowdy crowds, drunks, or homeless people?
Rebecca: No, not at all, though plenty of people warned me I would. One person told me it was a really dangerous area and to be careful. But looking around, I didn't feel unsafe. There are toddlers here, people on mobility scooters, young families. If it were truly dangerous, those vulnerable groups wouldn't be hanging around.
I had all sorts of people stop by: including people living in sheltered housing, people with mobility challenges, and parents with children.
Andy: You mentioned you didn’t present it as a religious activity, even though your Quaker faith influenced it.
Rebecca: That’s right. It was important to me that this remained an open, human interaction rather than a form of outreach. My motivations were personal, but I didn’t want to frame the project in religious terms. But I also feel called to experiment with dialogue work, for peace. And that isn’t something I can separate from my Quaker faith and witness.
Andy: What kind of atmosphere were you hoping to create?
Rebecca: A sense of openness and connection. There’s a lot of division and disconnection in society, we’re all functioning within familiar social bubbles and I wanted to create a small space where people could have positive interactions with someone they don’t know—even if they have very different views.
Andy: Did you take any steps to make the setup more approachable?
Rebecca: Yes, I put up posters explaining the project and included some humorous lines like, “All this effort for some conversation—bit tragic,” or “This is a bit odd, but okay.” It was a way of acknowledging how it might look from the outside and helping people feel at ease, break the ice by poking fun at myself to some extent.
Andy: Who do you think was being more courageous—the passersby or you?
Rebecca: That’s a good question. I suppose there’s vulnerability on both sides. For me, I was putting myself out there in a very visible way. But for people walking past, approaching a stranger and stepping into an unknown conversation also takes courage.
Andy: What are your plans for the project moving forward?
Rebecca: I’d like to continue using the same boot and see if it can have a longer life. A lot of love and effort went into making it with help of friends, so I want to build on that rather than start something entirely new. I’m also thinking about how to involve others, but carefully—because part of the project’s strength is that it’s just one person inviting strangers into conversation.
Andy: That balance sounds challenging.
Rebecca: It is. If too many people I know gather around, it changes the dynamic. Strangers might feel less comfortable approaching. So I’m trying to find a way to sustain the project while keeping that sense of openness and vulnerability.
Andy: It strikes me that the boot is an object of art to be looked at, rather than a puppet to be animated. It acts as a silent third party to the conversation—a quiet observer sitting in the background. You need that physical presence. Standing out here with a clipboard definitely wouldn't work. By avoiding a puppet or a persona, you aren't pretending to be a character or tricking anyone. Before I spoke to you and I just saw photos, I wondered if it was like those fibreglass sculpture trails you see decorated by different artists for charity fundraising, like giant rabbits.
Rebecca: Right, it’s passive. It’s like a temporary piece of street art. It serves a similar purpose to those public fibreglass sculpture art trails only really in that it's a spectacle that draws curiosity, but instead of scanning a QR code that connects with some app or webpage, instead when you approach the Giant Pink Boot, you get a conversation with a stranger. There was an invitation to write on the boot, put stickers on the boot, but few people did that.
Andy: It’s beautiful. It's a genuine enhancement to this space.
Rebecca: Thank you.
Part 3: Story Listening
Andy: So, the big question on my mind is: what are you going to do with all of these stories you collected?
Rebecca: Nothing.
Andy: Nothing?
Rebecca: Nothing. They are personal stories that people shared with me, and I was privileged to hear them. That is as far as they are going. I’m happy to give people a general sense of the themes, but I don’t want to exploit them. It would feel like a betrayal of trust. I was there to encounter a story with a stranger, not to monetize or use that story for content.
Andy: That’s brilliant. I can see some people asking, "Well, what’s the point then?" But you're learning about other human beings. That is an incredible, rich, and precious experience in itself.
Rebecca: Exactly. It feels incredibly rewarding just to spend hours learning about other human beings. I'm telling people about the project itself—I've posted bits on social media, and the local media actually came down, so it ended up on the local news website. I’ve had messages from people asking when they can see the boot next, so I'm thinking about a longer life for the project. I love the idea of taking it to other places in Swindon and maybe bringing it back to the town centre.
Andy: Do you want to build a community of Rebeccas who make themselves available to share and listen like this?
Rebecca: There are other projects out there centred on dialogue, but I love the idea of making dialogue work fun, accessible, inviting. I'd love it if other people saw this and thought, "Oh, I could do that."
Andy: But you must recognize that you have certain personal attributes that make you uniquely well-suited for this.
Rebecca: Well, I’ve been thinking about how I might prepare or kind of train others to do something similar if they express interest. It wouldn’t even need to involve a big pink boot—though the boot certainly creates the necessary curiosity to bring people in.
But one specific skill I’ve worked on for a long time is the ability to sit with the discomfort of disagreement. That’s the part I think people would find most challenging. If you’re going to encounter people with entirely different views and potentially some different values, you have to remember the purpose is to listen, not to argue or push a position. I didn’t agree with everything I heard, but I wasn't there to change minds; I was there seeking to understand. And you can disagree with someone in a way that doesn't start an argument, but it’s not always easy, especially if they’ve touched on something that pushes one of your buttons.
Andy: It occurs to me that your approach is very tender and careful. It isn't storytelling; it’s story listening. In a town like Swindon—which feels like a mosaic of different markets, meeting places, and distinct communities—putting yourself out there and saying, "I’m interested, tell me” almost makes you a sort of chaplain to the high street.
Rebecca: Wow. It doesn’t quite feel like that to me yet because I’ve only done it once so far, and it still feels like a big experiment. But that’s something to think about!
Part 4: Swindon’s culture
Andy: This street we're walking on now, Havelock Street, has a fantastic independent feel with all its charity shops. To me, it almost feels like a student town.
Rebecca: That’s the odd thing—we don’t have a university or a major student population here.
Andy: Really? The demographic suggests otherwise.
Rebecca: No, it’s not really students; it’s young adults and families. Swindon is seen as one of the last relatively affordable places to live in the south of England, especially compared to places like Bristol. Despite the decline of the high street which is a national issue, there are solid jobs here, it’s a good place to raise a family, and the cultural scene is growing rapidly. In fact, Swindon is currently bidding to become a City of Culture.
Andy: Fantastic! Are you involved in the bid?
Rebecca: I’m contributing as part of the Swindon Culture Collective, which is a network of local arts organisations and artists. I usually participate wearing my storytelling show organiser hat, but I’ve worked on other local projects too.
During the last half-term, I ran workshops for children as part of the "Swindon Imaginarium" inside the shopping centre we just walked through. We had hundreds of children come through the doors in a single day. Speaking to their caregivers—many who were grandparents—I realised just how little there is for children to do here during half-term that is inexpensive. During the autumn and winter breaks, you can’t just leave children on a playground for hours. Grandparents on a tight budget might spend their entire week's budget in the first two days. When it's freezing outside, they get stuck. They were incredibly grateful for a free, drop-in creative activity.
Look, there’s a big painted symbol on the pavement coming up—that’s for the City of Culture bid!
Andy: Why not? Even if you don't win, the process of bidding is incredibly useful for binding a community together. It forces people to cooperate and say, "This is who we are, and this is how we want to change things." Then, when the government or council asks what the town needs, you already have a united answer.
It’s interesting how culture is often treated as a late-stage afterthought—a lifeboat deployed only after everything else has gone down—when it really should be the central driver of a town.
Rebecca: Exactly. Despite the lack of a university or historically its limited arts and cultural investment, Swindon punches above its weight. We have fringe festivals and arts like the storytelling shows I organise, poetry festivals, literature festivals, visual art festivals, science and art festivals, the upcoming Threads Festival, and much more.