I want to be as cool as Calvin Harris

Dear inquisitor {inˈkwizitər},


At work the other day someone greeted me with "G'day nigga". Now this is not just some teenage guy saying this trying to be all dicky and wankster, but a middle-aged (however more like early 40s) caucasian male, {who strangely enough had a striking resemblance to that commander from Avatar with the scare on his face, but not as built, but had that same unwelcoming GI Joe like persona about him}. Now I was thrown  by this because of many reasons, firstly because I was doing my usual stall assistant greeting of "good morning" and expecting a "good morning" in return, and got "G'day nigga" instead. Secondly I was shocked that someone would say that in the first place. Thirdly I'm a white caucasian male, and I'm the furthest thing from black. (I'm like pasty) so I spent the next few awkward moment in an uncomfortable silence between us trying to look around as though I suddenly realised I had something "very" important to do  that I had just remembered".


So that is my little yarn for the blog. So on a different note these pictures are from my Pentax film slr and Calvin Harris is cool. 

I vanquished the Sphinx.

Not really, but I did get some cool new jeans, and have been listening to the Yeah Yeah Yeahs "head will roll" on repeat. I have found my artistic drive again, and painting like a mad man. The floor is covered in acrylic.







And this is Lucas Ross but you may call him Barnabe.

you ruined the barbecue.

Dear Valentine,

Due to your absence from my life you owe my a carnivorous plant. Something dangerous and ugly.

much love ME.

xx

Life is hard. The potato salad is just a bit chewy.

The other day I woke to a letter of sweet goodbyes and while dressing myself for work that morning I put my foot straight through one my deteriorating work shoes. Strangely enough I felt good. It was as though the morning had made the future full of optimism, opportunity and a some what clearer vision of personal ambitions.

For the morning was not only the unfortunate (but inevitable) end of my five dollar cotton specials (aka: THE SHOES) but the impending mutual parting of a beautiful relationship; however not a friendship. A mutual separation brought upon by each others personal plights, pursuing to separate paths. One takes the plane to Sydney; the other drives through crane fields, in early morning fog.

This had followed a amazing weekend in Brisbane, seeing family, rondevu with friends (singing Regina Spekta with Josi and Steph in the car on the way to central) and seeing plays. Kudos to Gavin Quinn with his Play "Oedipus Loves you". Oedipus has to be one of my favourite tragedies of all time, and to see it staged and adapted in a humorous way was a treat. Not to mention the cast was amazing.











 Anitgone- "your so deep, Tiresias"

Tireias- "You should read my peotry."

-(Oedipus Loves you)

faces

I have a thing for portraits.


Ruvek Maharaj

Christopher Rowland

Stephanie Thuesen

Gabrielle Redmond

We Love Lamps

Well my dear reader,

We all must face an inevitable truth, and that is we all love lamps. Yes, thats right. Lamps, no matter what cultural background you come from or place of residency in this galaxy you may (or may not?) exist in, the universal connection of love is felt towards the lamp.

However washing on the other hand is dreaded by most human and alien life forms alike (other then mothers, because thats what there obliged to do under the child and mother harmony act of 1992). But my mother today decided to break the act "because she had work", so being her favourite son she asked me to hang out the washing. But little do I understand that the weather also hates washing (or maybe me?). So I attempted 4 times to hang out the washing and each time it rained on me.

Now I'm no genius but I'm pretty sure that those clothes aren't going to get dry in the rain. So I called mother and put on my best "MUM THE SKY KEEPS CRYING ON ME EVERY TIME I TRY AND PUT OUT THE WASHING" act, AND THEN she tells me we have a dryer (as I so t0tz knew we had one) 0_0 (as well as HOW to use it)

quintessence of dust

A violet in the youth of primy nature,
Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting,
The perfume and suppliance of a minute,
No more.


-(Laertes sceneIII {7-10}) Shakespeare, Hamlet.




Model: Emily Walker