Friday, July 23, 2010

Aqueous schmaqueous

Today was kinda quiet so I decided to make some stuff for a mail art project. (Thankyou, unknown organiser in Canada, for ensuring that my creative block-inducing question of "why the hell am I doing this?" may now be answered with "to send to a complete stranger on the other side of the world".)

They're each about 15cm tall and done in watercolour - a medium which I was more acquainted with when I was 14, frankly. Oh well.


The second one was partially done while watching the 1979 film "Caligula", a parable for the follies of blind hedonism (read: explicit skin flick as only the 70s could do it) starring the absolutely delicious (read: absolutely delicious) Malcom McDowell as an indulgent, violent, perverse, incestuous and all 'round insane Gaius Julius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, or Caligula, Emperor of Rome. I lost track of the number of orgy scenes after a while and thanks to the quality of the film of the day, combined with the copy I was watching being on VHS, I don't think I'm ever going to fully understand what was going on in them.
If you're ever going to watch this little gem, keep an eye out for the epic battle between naked Roman troops and a riverbank of papyrus, a building facade with whirling blades at the foot of it slowly advancing across a stadium to decapitate the poor sods buried neck-deep in its path, a masked Helen Mirren (as Caligula's wife) strapped spread-eagled before a crowd of senators as she gives birth, and, of course, all manner of things shaped like genitals.

What this film lacked in coherency, logic and good taste it most certainly made up for in set, prop and costume design. I give it three unnecessary shots of arses out of five.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Ghost houses and such

Well, sort of. Y'see, I made sixteen of these little steel houses to fit in a box...

Then I photographed them...



And with me being a fan of smoke and mirrors and dramatic lighting and all that they turned out looking just a little haunted, or I thought so at least.

(Gah, after weening myself off photography for photography's sake the shutterbug is now back with a vengeance. Help!)

Construction site

The result of a short boredom-busting activity starring Thom.




I don't know why it looks so reddish when it was not before.

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Barely related

My desk in the Sculpture, Performance and Installation studio of SCA; the place that has been my home for almost three years.

Now there is only a semester to go til the end times and I'm paralysed with fear. For the love of all that is good will someone please lend me a TARDIS?

___

Edit:

Is there any practicing artist out there who wakes up in the morning and thinks "yes, this is what I am interested in and what I will make art about. I believe in this wholeheartedly and will be able to deal with it in a way that is satisfying to me. Though it will inevitably evolve over time due to external opinion and my own personal development, I will continue to learn and improve in this particular area because I enjoy it"?

A lecturer once asked me to develop a strategy for creating art. (I later forgot about an appointment to discuss it with him and got into lots of trouble.) How the hell are you meant to do that? How is anyone supposed to balance "want" and "should", the compulsion to "make" and intellectual satisfaction, id and ego? There will be no contentment until these two warring poles are sated in a blissful union that splits the heavens with the ecstasy of their joining (with confetti, we mustn't forget the confetti).
Maybe I'm too much of an idealist when it comes to art practice. This state of rapture can't possibly exist outside the realm of speculation/self-assured ignorance, so let me reframe my predicament.

Why does it seems like everyone has at least half a clue when I don't? (Or maybe I do and I'm just dithering at the edge because I'm scared of the jump.)


Man, I need to get more actual art onto this damn blog. This is just embarrassing.

___

Edit:

Please refer to post title.

Monday, July 12, 2010

Dear John

More second-hand sentiment, this time from an op-shop in Rozelle. A U.S. sailor's parting gift to a wartime sweetheart, perhaps?






Below is the photographer's business details as stamped on the back which leads me to wonder how exactly this item made it all the way from Virginia to Sydney. (My first thought was that this "John" guy was a total git who'd brought photos of himself to Australia with him, to be signed and given to the local ladies. It was then that I realised I was an idiot.)

Friday, July 9, 2010

Art is dead, long live the funky chicken

This is what I spent the night before my 21st making. He's about 25cm tall and is for an art exchange thingy.

(Man, I'm so out of practice with textile-related stuff it's not funny.)



As an added bonus (hurf durf), here is the drawing he was initially based on, evidence that I can't make curved arms for shit and the real reason for this extra image - AN AWESOME FONT THAT'S A TEMPLATE FOR 3D LETTERS!


Here are the letters before I folded and "glued" them.
And here is where you may download it.

Also looklooklook, it's Blu's most ambitious animation to date!

Thursday, July 8, 2010

The slow, steady decline into autobiography

I had a dream about overly-friendly hobos, alternate dimension reality TV shows, bad tattoos and fisting last night. The machinations of my subconscious grow both more intriguing and repulsive by the second (to me at least).

Now, on an unrelated note, here is the only piece of art in this post. It was made in a mad rush a couple of weeks ago for a friend's farewell and is approximately 6cm high. I've also realised it's the only thing I have to show for the past couple of weeks and this upsets me greatly.
(It's meant to be a mouth.)

The following images, however, do not upset me at all. For your viewing pleasure I now present the spine of the world's most hilariously titled book (as found by a certain someone who totally didn't ask to be credited), the contents of my bin covered in waste toner and a very creepy antique shop rocking horse.



I'm pretty sure I could hear its mournful whinnying when my back was turned.

Monday, July 5, 2010

Found holiday snaps

Taken from a negative discovered on the Strathfield roadside. I wonder if they'll be missed?