Saturday, March 31, 2012

Hermits leave house, Part 1

Tonight me and my friend Louise went out to a party of an old, old, old friend of ours. I love the term 'old friend' because it's so romantic and I always think about in Almost Famous when Penny Lane has overdosed on quaaludes and she says to William: "And you... are the last of my old time friends.."

It's true I don't have many old time friends left, but those that I do have are as valuable to me as William is to Penny Lane, when she almost dies and it's really sad and William saves her life and they play My Cherie Amour by Stevie Wonder. Those few people who knew me 'pre art school' who I am still friends with today, I have a real fondness for. So that's why I decided to leave the house tonight and drag Louise my fellow hermit along with me. The party was really cool, because it was in this place where people were just 'squatting' which is a really kind of crass term that doesn't seem to fit because they'd set up this wonderful communal living space that was functional and beautiful and like everything I've ever romanticized about but never come close to experiencing.

This place is getting demolished tomorrow and obviously the occupants can do nothing about it, so they were having this party as a last hurrah or something. We were encouraged to do whatever we wanted like paint the walls and drink and dance and be naked and there was no electricity so everything was lit with candles that were shoved into empty wine bottles and we ducked through narrow hallways graffitied with nihilistic phrases and we sat on cushions and talked about art to the best of our abilities and soaked up those vibes before we had to go home and I even watched some guy do a really incredible magic trick.

Louise and I painted a mural together which I really enjoyed immensely. I really enjoy the fact that after tomorrow, it won't exist any more except in a pile of rubble under a bigger pile of rubble, and in these photos..


Our old friend's back

Thursday, March 29, 2012


Okay you guyz don't laugh but this Rookie diary post is like the most serious one I've ever done and I really spent like a lot of time on it, I looked through like 50 books to find the perfect images... I really wanted it to be about this thing that happened to me that I'm not going to talk about in words, only through this collage cos it's just the best way to do it.

I usually treat my art kind of like shit in a sense that I don't really care for it or look after it (For example I got into this exhibition with this collage that I'd done and when I went to put the collage in the show I had totally lost it beyond recovery, I think I left it out in the rain one time and never picked it up) But THIS ONE IS REALLY IMPORTANT TO ME and I'm going to go and get it from the scanner I left it in and glue stick it in a scrapbook and keep it forever. Most of the time what is MOST important to us, sentimental stuff that is, not valuable stuff - we just keep like in a little drawer or in a pile at the bottom of a wardrobe or under our bed or IN OUR HEADS, where it exists even more deliciously than in real life. The most valuable things we own are our memories and experiences, because they are TRULY priceless, and fundamentally IRREPLACEABLE. What is most valuable to us we don't really 'protect' but rather it is there, stagnant - and we continue to live with it as a permanent stain upon our existences.

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Dropping the A-BOMB: "I'm an artist"

I have kept this scrapbook for a while so it is now my pleasure to scan it and post it here, for your viewing pleasure or displeasure.

Saturday, March 24, 2012

"What kind of beer?"

Oh I'm in a good mood tonight because of a few things number one being that I bought the second most amazing shoes in existence and now all I have to do is sit back next to my letter box and wait for them to come to me. I must say, I do have quite a collection of shoes now. If I'm going to spend a lot of money on an item, it is usually shoes, or a nice dress for a formal occasion. But that's about it. I'm in a good mood also because last night me and my friends went out to a house party like old times, and it was really fun, and we danced and laughed and talked crap and made memories and stuff. This is going to be a vibes post. At the moment I'm in love with Marianne Faithfull and disco naps.

Images from the following sources:, (Miu Miu Fall 2012 shoe shots),

Thursday, March 22, 2012

I listen all night for your step on the stair

This is my 500th post which makes it pretty evident that my life is a boring load of crap. But, even if this milestone is arbitrary and meaningless I had to post something that packed a bit of punch - below is a drawing my friend Gonzalo did of me and 'His Royal Highness' Leonard Cohen. It is literally the best thing ever in the whole world and he gave it to me, and now I am going to treasure it literally forever. In real life it's 40 times better than the photo, too, so that gives you some idea. Here's to 500 more.

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Tacoma Trailer

I'm going through a particular Leonard Cohen phase again which is kind of great. My friend Gonzalo read my mind when he messaged me last night with a photoshopped image of me and Leonard together. It made me feel lots better. Leonard got me through this morning even though I was totally really nervous for this presentation I had to give. It ended up going pretty well and I escaped relatively unscathed apart from my lecturer emphasizing the point that: "Some of your image choices are just... weird, I mean they're REALLY weird" and to be honest that's totally fine. There's weirder stuff in the world and I'd prefer them to be weird rather than boring so la di da.

I wore this super 70s outfit today.

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Morning of the earth

I had to go to a funeral today. I didn't want to go at all but I don't imagine anyone really ever wants to go to a funeral. I don't like funerals because of the obvious reasons - e.g thinking about one's own mortality and the mortality of those close to them and the crying. I'm really stiff when it comes to crying in front of other people, I only do it if something's really sad. There's this trick I've learnt over the years to stop yourself crying which is to press your tongue to roof of your mouth. It worked a treat today, up until a point. I don't know why I feel like I shouldn't cry in public but I just do. I'm pretty uptight and repressed and generally emotionally and mentally fucked up.

Anyway so the funeral was really sad. As usual I'm always stunned so seriously by the fact that someone can just die. They can be young, vibrant, fit, healthy, they can make sarcastic jokes, cry in public or in private, they can listen to the Rolling Stones, they can love and lose love and read books and put posters up on their walls and pick their nose but they can also just, die. Just, like, that. I'm surprised this fact still renders me speechless even with my particularly morbid way of thinking about things - I feel like it will forever remain the most shocking immovable fact of life - the fact that at ANY point, it can cease to continue. With almost the velocity of a snap of a finger. I will never get over that. It's incredible, almost brilliant.

I think it's my Catholic upbringing but I always feel closest to some kind of 'higher power' in church. I'm not talking about God because I don't even know if I believe in 'God' as such and it's not like I even go to Church anymore except for the occasional funeral or wedding but when I do, like today, everything always seems beautiful and the statues of Jesus and Mary almost seem to really be watching me and the hymns reach the heavens and the candles flicker at the strong prophetic wind coming through the window and blowing the hair of the mourner on stage who's dappled with this kind of rainbow light from the stained glass windows. It's so divine and in many ways I love it like a child filled with awe and wonderment about heaven and 'God' and the mystery of life and death. Alas I'm getting carried away. Here is the song that was played today, it's perfect and I'll leave it at that.

Monday, March 19, 2012


At the moment I am reading a book on Vali Myers who is actually my new idol. It is called Vali Myers 'A Memoir' and it's by Gianni Menichetti. You sort of have to read the book to get how amazing she is. She gave Patti Smith a tattoo. Mick Jagger owns a drawing of hers. She grew up in Box Hill where my Papa grew up. Her bedroom was a cage. "Vali, the original tightrope dancer". She's from my own backyard and lived this life that usually is reserved for people far from where my existence on earth began.