Thursday, September 29, 2011


Sometimes particular obscure things keep reoccurring in your life - e.g You discover a word you've never heard before and subsequently hear it three times in the same day. People treat it as a sort of mystical occurrence and I suppose to some extent it is - though a part of me acknowledges it as merely your brain - newly aware of this word and now understanding the meaning, is more alert to it and registers its use.

In films they deliberately play with you in that sense - subtly inserting poignant sign posts and repeating them throughout the narrative. You're sort of meant to ask yourself "Is that a coincidence?" "What does that mean?" so when things like that occur in reality I find myself doing the same thing.

I watched a Jean-Luc Godard film last week called 'Contempt' (or, 'Le M├ępris'). And, today in the last installment of the crazy film/Art history class I take at Uni - out lecturer showed us the very same film. A quote that compelled me the most when first watching 'Contempt' was: "The gods have not created man. Man has created gods." and today that's what my lecturer spoke about - in relation to the nothingness that therefore must exist before the birth of either.

Struck with the coincidence of this film and the particular line reoccurring again in my life, I placed even more emphasis upon the question "WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?" and thought about it on yet another level. Repetition is easily dismissed as not making something more valuable but less. I think repetition reiterates a point and solidifies its existence. I learnt that from Andy Warhol.

This film and the colours within have been haunting me since the first viewing. Now, even more so as it found its way into my life again through no conception of my own. These reoccurrences are only poignant if they're acknowledged as so - like you could easily watch a film and still follow the plot line while missing those signposts - but you would just be watching it on the surface.

Oh, and right now as I'm finishing writing this, 'I'm A Believer' came on the radio (Refer to below post). SPOOKY.

Wednesday, September 28, 2011


I have a scrapbook which is different to my sketchbook in a sense that I don't draw, I just paste in pictures and write down phrases to keep them from going round and round in my head. This week it has been "I'm a believer" because I find it all encompassing of the kind of blind optimism I am so attracted to. I made a playlist with this in mind that you can download HERE:

1. I'm A Believer - The Monkees
2. Let's Shake Baby - Zoe and the Stormies
3. Bam Bam - Sister Nancy
4. The Boy Next Door - The Secrets
5. Oh Dread - Althea and Donna
6. Sunday Morning - Margo Guryan
7. Darling - Zoe and the Minis
8. You're Moving Out Today - Carole Bayer Sager
9. Jeans On - David Dundas
10. I'm Into Something Good - The Cookies

Tuesday, September 27, 2011


As it is probably evident I've been having a really "I CAN'T BE BOTHERED WRITING" last couple of days. Perhaps all my words have been poured into proposals and essays that I simply haven't any left. However, if I hadn't any words I would not be here stringing together sentences about how I had no words left and rather I would be finally figuring out what it is people think when they don't think in words.

It's like the "If a tree falls in a forest with no-one around, does it make a sound?" kind of irritating question, things like: "What is colour to a blind person?" and like what I'm trying to say above "How would you think if you didn't have words to label desires and feelings?" It's basically thinking about two co-dependent entities and how they function together, then removing one. What is 'it' without the other?

These kind of arbitrary teen angsty questions make me think of this fantastic film from 1985 called 'The Mask' with the goddess CHER playing the biker Mother of the protagonist. We had to watch it way back in high school and I think this was the first time I ever really entertained such radical thoughts. Rocky the main character has to describe colour to a blind friend. It really triggered some kind of 13 year old existential crisis in me that never really ended or something. Cool story. But imagine me telling it to you with no words.

Monday, September 26, 2011

Rainy Days/Mondays

I drew these while eating Cadbury 'Old Gold' chocolate and listening to The Carpenters.

Saturday, September 24, 2011


Petra Collins is a photographer living in Toronto, Canada. This is her website
She contributes photographs to Rookie magazine, is an artist in her own right and curates 'The Ardorous'. 'The Ardorous' is her all girl art collective that you can view here: BUT don't click yet because you will get lost in its mystical realms and never return here to read the rest of my post!

Petra asked me to be a part of the collective, which is REALLY exciting and makes me feel really excited and happy. My work is not up on the site yet but I am in the process of collating a concise series of images to be like my first post thing and stuff and stuff and I'm excited! (Easier said than done when you're me)

On the 'About page' of the site Petra describes the project as "A series of individual and collaborative projects between a collective of female creative professionals – all full of ardor but each with a unique artistic style and voice. " with ardor of course meaning "fervor, passion, warmth of feeling, enthusiasm, intense devotion..."

SO while I'm on a rant about myself (SO UNUSUAL) I just wanted to say... because I've been getting a marginally larger amount of traffic on this site  (This is gonna be SO LAME GET READY...) I wanted to say THANKS to all the readers of my blog, people who've been reading since I was 16 and blogged about eating a toasted cheese sandwich for lunch and buying a book on cats at the Op Shop (Oh wait I still do that) to people who met me through VCA and read my blog and are so super supportive because we're all artists and 'we're all in this together', MY FRIENDS (ESPECIALLY LOUISE, YALEI, ANNABELLE you've been SO GREAT AND SO NICE AND SO SUPPORTIVE OF THIS STUPID BLOG I LOVE YOU) to people who just unfortunately stumbled here and never left AND FINALLY to all of my new readers who found my blog via the glory of ROOKIE I want to say HELLO, Thank you, sorry if I'm weird or boring but welcome and enjoy your stay. If that speech wasn't ardorous I don't know what is.

P.S To all readers, new and old and in between - leave me comments and stuff, I love reading them, I love hearing your stories so, like don't be shy!

And NOW you're free to go to


Friday, September 23, 2011

Notes from Utopia

I want my drawings to be existent mirages. I want to make tangible the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

January 1976

These pictures from National Geographic Magazine, January 1976 - need no accompanying rambling paragraph from me. They stand best alone - and I don't need to tell you that they're AMAZING.

Thursday, September 22, 2011

Study hall

I'm having a study day today, meaning I am staying home and hitting the books - or rather, hitting lectures on Youtube that are totally fascinating yet only have like 14 views. It's a beautiful day outside, I have the house to myself and I'm spread out on the dining room table with all the windows open and the sun pouring in, as well as a few blowflies. I haven't yet written a word of my essay and now it conveniently appears to be lunch time.

Wednesday, September 21, 2011


I bought a 1970s cooking book from Savers the other day. Not only is it full of great recipes for pies and lamb roasts (because I bake them so often) but it also has these nifty ideas for elaborate table settings (Seventies style, of course). When I get my own house and I can decorate it the way I want and have dinner parties all the time, I will refer to this book for inspiration.

I also watched Woody Allen's 'Take The Money And Run' today, and I have to say the above boiled egg scene is really incredible in a sense that it's so sweet and straight and hits the nail on the head in the two seconds it takes for the egg to squish through those little squares.

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Stardust Memories/Breath-les

The vibes are in black and white today which is kind of nice. Black and white feels more authentic sometimes, perhaps because it eliminates colour as a distraction and allows one to focus more on form, action and the contrast between light and dark. Although a huge ambassador for colour, sometimes it's calming to watch a film in black and white or to do some photocopying in black and white or desaturate my photographs.

I've had a day in the studio today, not an altogether productive day but technically I'm on my week long 'mid-semester break' so I'm entitled to a little bit of 'down time'. Really I should be writing essays, proposals, slapping paint on as many surfaces as I can get my hands on... but so far I've just been losing myself in films and utterly ridiculous circumstances with friends. It's nice.

I like being in the studios on the holidays because it's so quiet. When no-one is around it's great because I can play music and hum to myself without feeling self conscious and have a great sticky beak into some of the teen angsty first year studios. I dunno today was a good day. Hope yours was too.

Monday, September 19, 2011

On my mind

Two phrases have been circulating in my head over the past few days. One is a lyric from a song called Tutti lo sanno by The Marine Girls "Hate is a passion and that's near to love anyway" and the other phrase is just something that was floating around when I woke up the other morning "How close can you get to something without touching it?" I was trying to demonstrate this concept to a friend by putting my thumb as close to my forefinger as I could without skin touching skin.

If you hold your fingers up to the light when doing the above exercise, a tiny sliver of light should be visible between your thumb and forefinger. It's this weird space I reckon, almost imperceptible to the naked eye but existent every single time we reach out to touch an object or another human being. That one moment before the actuality of contact, between something not happening and happening. Touch cannot be simulated which I think is why it is romanticized so readily.

As for the Marine Girls - they were a post punk group from the late 70s/80s and I sort of feel like with the above lyric they're kind of referencing Joni Mitchell's song People's Parties from the 1974 album Court and Spark - "Laughin' and cryin' you know it's the same release". Alluding to interconnectivity between intense emotions, how they get distorted the more passionately you feel them. There are people I love so much, with so much vigor that at such an extreme point I'm not sure if it is love anymore or just a passion, both positive and negative but at the same time neither, just existent.

In this penultimate paragraph I'd normally try and summarize and conclude by relating the two points I have made in this post together, but tonight it's not going to happen. Too much time spent at Art School has made me grow tired of extracting obscure connections and justifying them. These are just things I have been thinking about.

I made a playlist that you can download here: and below the track listing are some drawings I did today.

1. Reach Out Of The Darkness - Friend and Lover
2. Gonna Get Along Without You Now - Skeeter Davis
3. In Love/Honey - The Marine Girls
4. Mother Nature's Son - The Beatles
5. People's Parties [Live] - Joni Mitchell
6. You And Me - Penny and the Quarters
7. Baby It's You - The Shirelles
8. Shoop Shoop De Doop Rama - The Clinger Sisters
9. Jeane - The Smiths
10. Tutti lo sanno - The Marine Girls
11. La pluie du ceil - Chantal Goya
12. Kimberly - Patti Smith
13. Guess Who - Gladys Knight and the Pips

Sunday, September 18, 2011

Recent Work

I've been making lots of these mirror images lately and I just can't wait to gather the funds in order to get them printed really big in colour. I always think about if money was absolutely not an object - how different an artists' practice would be. I think it would change dramatically in the execution of ideas not necessarily the actual motivation and actual ideas. Not that I'm saying I'm going to find out... let's be honest here!

Livin' in the sort of seventies

 Last night I went to a 1970s themed party. Basically, the ultimate party theme anyone really could have chosen to suit me and my wardrobe. I could have also worked with a 1960s theme or a 1950s theme of course, but I digress. I wore an outrageous polyester maxi dress, with a rainbow skirt and rainbow tiered sleeves that will most likely never have occasion to be worn again and now lays strewn on my green chair.

I had fun at said party - the hosts are privileged enough to own a projector and it was hooked up to a computer, with internet access - thus access to the realms of Youtube and access to any possible thing we could ever think of in the world, projected up on a huge wall. We watched and danced to ABBA, Kool and the Gang, James Brown, Macy Gray, Snoop Dogg... the possibilities were literally endless. It got very late and we started watching old Sesame Street clips. At 20 years old, watching Sesame Street projected up on the wall of an Art School share house at 2am on a Saturday night after a few glasses of wine is up there as one of the weirdest and most wonderful things I've experienced.

I got home finally and my little cactus that lives on my windowsill is blooming. I swear it's grown a good centimetre in the past week - it must be spring, the sunshine - the fact that I've been remembering to water it occasionally. It's beautiful, anyway - as is my awfully hot, scratchy, flammable, hideously incredible 70s dress that I'll hang away probably still smelling of cigarettes. As I think about my experience wearing said dress I wonder about what weird and wonderful experiences the person before me had in it in the 70s, and if they were at all comparable to mine. What I love is that ONLY THE DRESS KNOWS and I can only speculate. I do know that whatever it was, it must have been pretty damn groovy, I mean, THOSE SLEEVES!

Friday, September 16, 2011


I wish I had a group of girlfriends with whom I could dress up in different variations of the same outfit and tease each others hair and share liquid eyeliner and form our own girl band and call ourselves something ending in 'ettes'.