31 July 2007


Another culture confession. I’ve gone + got myself addicted to Top Gear. No telly for years now + then I go to pieces over a car show with the eco-footprint of an industrial yeti and the political correctness of John Howard. I can’t help it. It’s sooooooo funny. 7.30pm, Mondays, SBS. Watch it.

30 July 2007

personal monday

I admit it, okay. I’ve been reading crappy gossipy newspaper articles targeted at singles again. Normally this makes me feel…

1) angry about the state of the world + fierce in my belief that women’s lib needs to take place all over again. This happens with the really trashy articles about winning your man’s heart via some variety of consumerism/super-waxing/vaginoplasty. And yes, I am talking about the Herald here folks, not Cleo.
2) pathetic, when I read the above articles, buy into their BS + expend energy on getting angry about them. It’s as productive + educational as watching Today Tonight.
3) sad, when I read about speculative contemporary plagues such as extreme man-drought, commitment-phobia, single households or 30-something barrenness.

Obviously this reading habit is something that I need to jettison. But I have managed to unearth one gem amongst the mind-wasting manure of the genre… the London Review of Books + their online personals. I discovered this via la Heraldo a couple of months back.

Where other sites encourage contributors to "keep it positive" and "be polite", the LRB runs ads like: "Shy, ugly man, fond of extended periods of self-pity, middle aged, flatulent and overweight, seeks the impossible."

Or: "If dreams were eagles, I would fly, but they ain't, and that's the reason why. Spend New Year's Eve singing into your hairbrush with me, bitter publishing marketing exec. (F, 33), too drunk at the office party to keep all my slobber behind my teeth."

Launched a decade ago, the LRB personals were intended to provide a way for the journal's cultured and literate readers to get together; a kind of "84 Charing Cross Road endeavour," writes David Rose in They Call Me Naughty Lola, a compilation of the best LRB personals, "with readers providing their own versions of Anthony Hopkins and Anne Bancroft finding love among the bookshelves". The first ad they received was from a man "on the look-out for a contortionist who plays the trumpet".

The column quickly achieved cult status, a kind of broken carousel where the poisonously droll and flamboyantly dysfunctional paraded their neuroses, skin conditions and overweening desire for self-destructive sex. Uninhibited by anything as trite as positive thinking, advertisers are free to tell it like it is, with oddly charming results: "I'd like to dedicate this advert to my mother (difficult cow, 65) who is responsible for me still being single at 36. Man. 36. Single. Held at home by years of subtle emotional abuse and at least 19 fake heart attacks."

I love it. I would seriously attempt to set up the Gong equivalent if I thought there were more than a dozen people here who could read, let alone go nuts with a little sardonic literary wit.

21 July 2007

moments of madness

I've been re-reading my ancient last post + mentally surveying the chaos of the past twenty days as some preparation for what to say next. It's hard to even know where to start with the catch up! Change + I have indeed become close friends... or at least more frequent sparring partners. I think it's obvious from the manic gleam in my glasses that it's been crazy crazy times.

The move is over, with a mountain of unpacking + renesting still to come; the old place is scrubbed up + left behind; I've survived dramas at work; + created a big new piece within the tightest ever timeframe. The new work was due the Monday after the move + I was exhausted to the point of incoherancy by then. How good to get through it though! It's the first instance I can remember of almost seamless creativity... from a loose image in my head to a realised piece with no angst at all. It just flowed out + was there in front of me. It's really only in the last year or so that I've made work that I like + feel satisfied with, + what a bloody great relief to finally reach that point!

The opening on Thursday night was an enormous affirmation, sorely needed after the insanity of the last couple of weeks! I was surrounded by friends, especially my amazing work crew who turned up in rent-a-crowd style droves. My work had a prime position + looked amazing up on the wall + properly lit (as opposed to stretched over a tiny loungeroom floor as had been the case up until then). I was overwhelmed by the response from people + the quality of the show in its entirity. It was an incredibly positive thing.

I've got a mountain more that I want to say, but am going to stick with sharing the new work for now. I need a little mental + physical recovery time before I can get back to my regular rambling on. But stay tuned + stay in touch! Love youse fellas.

I am connected to you (what a thread can do)
Mixed media on denim

01 July 2007

moments of momentum

Ooooh funny old week. Crammed with disappointments + small salvations. I didn't get the internal promotion that I was interviewed for on Monday + my application for the Wollongong City Gallery residency was also knocked back. There was more painful wrangling with he-who-shall-not-be-named, which I've pledged not to pester people with here. (But oops, looks like I officially have no capacity for discretion.)

Overall there was a lingering failure flavour to much of the week + it was a struggle to remain bubbly + buoyant. By Friday night one of my tension headaches had hit + I was forced to miss duel engagements for Nancy's 75th + Ben's 22nd birthdays, instead lying on the couch, supping aspirin + feeling sorry for meself.

Of course there's always a bright side to look to. I've been accepted into a local group show, with enormous thanks to my mate Gin, + now have a very definite (+ close) deadline for creating some new work. I finished Smokey's birthday scarf + was stoked with the results. Plain knitting in peacock blue + smokey brown (appropriately), which I embellished with appliqued felt circles + some of my favourite button treasures. She's promised modelling photos from her adventure into WA + SA this month, so stay tuned for images of striking scarf on beautiful lady against red earth. There was a girl's dinner on Tuesday night which I loved, in spite of the fact that we all seemed somewhat overtaken by the midwinter blues + sniffles.

But the Really Big News is that Ethan + I have finally found a place after a month + a half of looking. Woo hoo! Yippee yi ya! The finer details are currently enmeshed in the blur that is house-hunting. Everyone knows that feeling, I'm sure. Is there a bath? I can't rightly remember. Do you enter straight into the living room or is there a hallway? Not sure. Where in heaven's name am I going to fit all my stuff, alongside two other people + their stuff? Bloody good question. But that will all work itself out I'm sure. The flat is in a great location - a block + a half from North Beach - in a pretty complex. There's a balcony for my cacti collection + a dishwasher... oh my coveted object of extreme luxury. I've already had an email from a cool-sounding chick who's interested in joining our gang. So the omens are good.

I need to focus on the good omens + not the anxiety that comes to me with change. I have two weeks to pack up my little flat + say my goodbyes. It's been my sanctuary for nearly two years now. My first, + potentially only, solo pad. Also a space that I shared with gorgeous Dennise for several months, + a veritable parade of friends, lovers + crafty ladies. I've enjoyed so much of living here + I think other people have enjoyed it too. There certainly seems to be a regular + consistent refrain that it's a warm, comfortable place to hang out, + it will be hard to leave that behind. But I look forward to the new chapter that's ahead of me + the companionship that will bring. Change can be my friend, if I let him!