(the trick)

While no one's looking

I think I may have to revive this thing. I migrated to the internet-idiot-friendly Tumblr but a late night squiz of this old relic has made me rather nostalgic. By God, I'm inspired afresh with these warm hearted efforts! (Well, maybe excepting all the wallowing over my ex).

Actually, just adding the image to this post has reminded me of why I sort of stopped - it's too easy to mess up posts, with text getting consumed by formatting in the wrong order...maybe I'll stick to the writing on this platform.

TUMBLRZ !!!!!

http://nomadvomit.tumblr.com/ (skool work)

&

http://visualgreed.tumblr.com/ (random fancies)

New Year

I really hope this year is a good one. Last year was rich but simply flew off the handle in the end.

What's changed in a year? Who am I at 23?

I no longer smoke & now enjoy exercise to the point of passion. Despite this, I'm still a hipster, apparently. My hair is red and short and my makeup bold, despite what boys tell me they like. I've realised how important family is and understand a few more of my hangups, (they dissolve after that, right?) I no longer draw, which is sort of sad, but have growing confidence in my writing, despite not knowing what to say most of the time. I finally read novels.

To avoid ingratitude, 2009 positives that should be noted before moving forward:

• Made and was part of an staggeringly diverse range of films.
• Ate some of the best food since Italy.
• Saw some pretty amazing gigs & went behind the scenes at the MIFF.
  
• Fell in love and was loved back, for a time.
• Saw free movies and ate free food because of friendship.
  

All the negatives can be incinerated to make room for more of the above in my life.
This year will be better beucase it can be.

smash list

1. James Spader, before the middle aged Boston Legal spread, and maybe afterwards, providing its over the phone. 

2. Vincent D'Onofrio, again, before the spread and away from the roles where he fucks with his face, i.e. Men in Black, The Cell, Full Metal Jacket etc .

3. Robert. Always.

4. Richey Edwards. First pin up of my adolescence and though his anorexic self loathing is a bit off putting now, I'm still hard pressed to find anyone who looks better in eyeliner.

5. Micheal Fassbender. Wot a man. Makes creepy step dads sexy in Fish Tank & was the best thing about Inglorious Basterds, (well, after the Nazi dude). 

6. Sebastian Koch. Burly & gentle all at once. 

7. Matt Dillon. There are few jaws like that anymore.

P.S

I am returning home to England for a few months armed with a nice new camera.(I paid considerably more for it than that & now realise I got ripped off.)

Sorry my blogging has been so dreary of late, all you anonymous readers out there, all 4 of you!

It's about to improve. Time to get inspired again. Huzzah!

Bed Time Read

&

 

I wish I'd met him.

Old is new

I found this rotting on my old live journal. It was posted just over a year ago and it's pretty pertinent for me that's nothing's changed!

There is some persistant feeling inside me so familiar that it is barely an anxiety anymore. It stems from rich, packed expereinces of a person's company neutured to a sterile exchange of typed words; where the humour arrises from the use of ironic smilies, while each person hopes the other is smiling as their exchnage is fed into the machine.
 It's revealing I suppose. There are some people for whom words remain just that - sign posts, news bulletins and stats. Then there are others leave you hankering for flesh and blood details and emotions however coincidental. You hope to be close to them not only in what they claim to have done but also in the very moment they sit & type to you. You want to watch their face as they do it because it's the face you miss. The play of the eyes as you watch a brain at work. Micro-expressions of that vivid life within. Maybe it's the reassurance of a soul you recognise.
 All the same, you work with what you have and throw tit bits to the grape vine, remembering that you have obligations. 
 Some people feel that same psychic pull to you even if you never feel it yourself. What you tell them is never enough. What you tell them will never be enough. They just hope to be included in your life becuase they value what they can learn from it.
 Knowing I will never see these people again is frightening. It's the persistent knowledge that with each new day these distant  fires slowly die. 
 I pass hundreds of people in a day, never to see them again. I barely remember a single face. There are too many people to know in a lifetime so the few that risk it to know you & your history are worth your time. They are worth all the time in the world.
 So to think your time with such people is through while the earth still has some to spare feels like a crime. Estrangement is the greatest theft. But it makes me wonder - if we had the time, if we had all time, what would we end up doing with it? Wouldn't we just take everyone for granted? Maybe then our sentence to know most people for a breath of time what makes our relationships function.
 It's hard to stomach neat conclusions & imagine closure while that feeling remains of a melancholic sickening. Your soul needs the sort of nourishment  the explanations offered cannot supply. I can't help thinking that it's when you are in dialogue with something you are alive. When you are left alone, some part of you dies.

x

Beats blowing glass motherfucker!

I have 4 months off for Summer, returning to school in March - what the hell?! I've already decided that the next film I make when I get back will be about a furtinure removalist with a problematic chair fetish.

My boy isn't my boy anymore but I find it impossible to introduce him as anything but that. Sad but true. I keep thinking we'll slip back into it accidentally, although I know that's not for the best right now. My GOD, his eyes are blue.

Things do seem easier when the sun's out, I must confess - there's energy in the air and my blood is warmed to the point where it actually circulates properly. I think I was hankering for Summer. It's been 12 months of Wintery weather, thanks to my jet-setting lifestyle. To usher in this happier season of vit D, my beloved flatmate bought me a bike on Ebay. It's purple with pint sized white wall tires. I'm hoping that reckless rides in breezy summer frocks will lift my occasionally weary spirit. The last month was a bit of a stinker all round.

Picking myself up (fell over again)

Firstly:

I love this song of late.

(In general: I think I need to read more of Bukowski's fiction. It keeps me honest.)

Thereafter: Saw a doco about Henry Darger the other night by the same woman who made this. It was rather scary to have it narrated by the overly knowing voice of a seven year old Dekota Fanning but was otherwise rather classy. Sensitive in its open minded approach, it has a stunning command of spanning mountains of his material. I wish I'd seen his apartment before it was dismantled in 2000. It may have had something on Bacon's inspiring mess. 

Curious?

Watch it.

LOVE

I give up.I google imaged "break up" and got this image. It was nice while it lasted.

Pen to paper

Drawing again, hot damn! That's right, no more talk, actually drawing. There's Burlesque life drawing night at a bar on Fitzroy Street, every Wednesday, that will set you back $15 for a pot of beer, drawing materials and a naked lady with assorted nipple adornments. Steal! You win more beer if your drawings wow & get a chance to showcase and sell your collective output at the end of the 10 week course. There are some truly frightening leftovers of the last time's participant offerings still displayed on the venue's walls, unsold. I doubt even their own loving mother's would shell out $20 to support such visual abortions. One can only hope the process was cathartic for them.

I want some nipple tassels.

Also attention grabbing today:

.

(Don't watch if you're jitterish/epileptic.)

My boy made me brekie today. We were late for school again.

Please

http://www.savevca.org/

Theme = Cupcakes

p r e t t y

Clip I made last late semester for the twee Animation Club at Loop bar. We didn't win the cupcakes/resounding supremacy over other animations entailing cutiepie animals disfiguring each other with guns.

Thus, was a bit bolox overall but, onwards and upwards! 

Check out the local talent that provided the tune.

He digitized her is all.

• Dyed my hair heroin chic rouge. Will be a gutter slut by next weekend if Christiane F is anything to go by. (Trainspotting has nothing on that film's cold turkey scene.)

• About to edit for a month solid. Gush.
• My boy looks mean in leather.
• Finally saw Y TU MAMA TAMBIEN oh, 8 years late. I'm sorry I missed the party for so long. Sun drenched hypnosis. Gorgeous.
• Seeing family friends for dins dins at Mess Hall makes me miss Mama. Are there any robins in this country? 

They need importing.

Now that nobody's looking

I loved this film, bar the final mawkish line. Maybe the rest was just as bad and I just related to it too much to nit pick the faults. Surely we can all agree that the depressing movie post-break up pastiche sequence was fucking wonderful.

Tity Bits:

• Making films with a head held high for the first time...ever? Latest took place down on a beach with a lot of gale force winds and long nights of drinking at Jan Juc caravan park. It's a "psychological potboiler." Ha.

• Applying for a job at a place that stocks over 400o magazines.

• Favorite parts of his body: nape of neck, tiny ear lobe, slanty teeth, hot hands and eyes eyes eyes yes yes yes. He's in a puppetry cabaret show as part of the Melbourne Fringe next week.
  

Back on.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Uncharted territory

This speaks the truth for me right now!

(Click to enlarge)

Aside from whatever the above picture may allude to on the home front, the boyfriend and girlfriend of this particular relationship are inspiring me to draw again. Their art's undertone of sexual perversion almost reminds me of another illustrator I stalk online...only he's dropped more acid/is in touch with his spirit animal. 

I have thoughts peculating of producing a small scale zine that illustrates my observations about falling in love at first sight, (cliche, yes but in my hands? Haunting!) There's a cute little distro called Sticky here that has me fired up to make some trouble... 

Happy Easter

It's about more than chocolate for this dude in Germany.

Conscious outburst

What do you want?

I want to be more than wanted.

I want to I N S P I R E !

(So to hell with chasing tail)

I want to be strong at what I do, respecting my work so other people will respect it too.

Without compromise.

* * * * *

Mundane Update!

 

1. Still no home to call my own. Did such things ever worry P.J? My head is spinning from the ongoing search.

2. Presenting this tomorrow in class, with a view to blow minds.

 3. Joining in for a cross-town scavenger hunt on Easter Sunday, but only after viewing a new print of Robocop or something equally amazing at the Melbourne Comedy Festival.

(...if I had money to burn, I could so a LOT of damage across the bulging cultural calender of this town. I've been tempted left, right and centre by a host of events. Sadly, despite all the variety on offer, I've ended up eating a lot of fries and sauce on street corners of late. I've officially joined the hoards of mangey, indecisive students! Again, Le Student 8 accommodation gets the blame.)

4. Next week I plan to introduce my Aussie chums to Pancake Day,dutifully preforming my service as the novelty pommy bastard in doing so.

Bamboo Charcoal Bread

I'm officially addicted!