Monday, April 25, 2011

Happy ANZAC Day

Bringing together the dual concepts of wartime and old age, ANZAC Day is possibly the most depressing holiday on the Australian calendar.

Both my grandfathers served in WWII. The one I knew - a slightly racist chainsmoker and occasional shoplifter - was in the navy. He was awesome, though he was only around until I was about 12.

Sometimes I wish he'd been alive when I was old enough to better appreciate the things he'd been involved in, though realistically I probably would have felt too awkward to ask anything searching, and I doubt he'd have discussed it with me in any great detail. Besides the most basic of information - the names of the ships he was on, the number of kamikaze attacks he'd survived - everything about his wartime experiences I've only heard second hand.

He was so proud of what he'd achieved during that war, even though it made him wake up screaming every night for the first years of his marriage to my grandmother.

The big ideas of nationhood these days evoke seem so at odds to the experiences of those caught up in the events being commemorated; though, of course, it would be impossible for me to fully concieve of what those experiences were.

I'm not sure if this day is a patriotic celebration, a memorial, a tradition reduced to a gesture, or what it's meant to be, all I know is there'll be a lot of drunk diggers playing 2up tonight.

Monday, April 18, 2011

Keep rollin' rollin' rollin'

Rollin' rollin'.

I dedicate this post to the oft-misunderstood musical genius of Fred Durst.

I have been full of excitement lately.

Not only do I now have a desk...

...but my crushing lack of inspiration has been alleviated by an awesome exhibition. The delicious retrofuturism of Ian Haig's cult propaganda-y video in particular has filled me with joy and compelled me to create post-apocalyptic architecture for my honours project. (This also gives me an excuse to do some "research" into the crackpot end-of-the-world theories that tickle my funnybone so hard*.)

[The apocalypse would herald the achievement of maximum entropy. The arrival of a condition of absolute societal atomism (anarchy?) under which the system will reach a paradoxical oneness through the uniform disparity of its individual units. In this state of suspended liminality may we find the room to refigure all that we know.]

The bullshit is flowing like a river and it feels so much better**. I'm still not sure if I'm going to situate this architecture as parallel to this reality (interventions in the present) or in the virtual as proposals, but I don't really care. I'm just going to ride out this wave of happy as long as I can.

That said, the actual quantity/quality/quapity of things I've produced is as minimal as always.

There's this thing that's mean to be a rolling house, hence the dedication of this post.

(I take no responsibility for the music in the background of this.)

And some drawings. That are very bad. And hence will never see the light of day.

You heard me.

Good day to you sir.

*Yes, a poor combination of words to use in such close proximity.
**I'm really not having a good time with this whole word choice thing tonight, am I?

Sunday, April 10, 2011



Apologies for the post flood, turns out that the last entry had been sitting in edit limbo when I thought I'd published it ages ago.


What you see above is what I consider to be my greatest achievement of the year: a huge, wang-shaped caramel slice made in celebration of my housemate's 22nd. We stuck a candle in the head and slopped it with berry coulis when it came time to serve it up. Mmm.

I also went on my first painting escapade the other day. The results were relatively disasterous, thanks to my inexperience, shitty design and very drippy paint, but I'd like to keep practicing.

My favourite bit's the disgruntled butterfly.

My company fared slightly better.

What a dick.


Back in blog.

It's time to end an absence brought about by a noxious mix of honours stress, employment and laziness.

The view from work. Ain't half bad.

Very little has actually been done artwise considering the amount of time this little receptacle of whine has been neglected, but here it is anyway.

I put a couple of pieces into a group show at SCA's student gallery. One was an installation - a painted schematic corresponding with an architectural feature of the ceiling directly above it.

The other was this goddamn thing again.

I also made a recipe book for a certain someone's birthday (dodgily screenprinted front and back cover, inside covers and inside below):

And turned some terrible magazines into some equally terrible (if not, terrible-er) collages one rainy day.
A day so rainy that I stepped out of my bedroom door to find the house flooded. Curse you, autumn!

Hopefully this updating business will become a semi-regular affair again. It gives the illusion that my procrasination is worthwhile.