Common.Place

The tale of a sympathetic stone.

2011-07-19T18:46:00.001+10:00

The tale of a sympathetic stone.

________________________________________

One day a stone said to his maker, “I’ve changed my mind. I admit… things aren’t quite as rigid as I once thought. I’ve observed flow. Can I be a river now?”

The fact was that he was placed next to a river for a reason. He fell there after his stoic nature began to push aggressively outwards. He had had a disagreement with a feather one day, her flightiness annoyed him. The wind had blown her to a soft pleasurable landing atop his stern self. She didn’t mind for she was in a constant state of bliss. But the pressure of the feather landing caused a deep uproar within the mountain rocks, they were simply sick of these feathers fluttering about. Her delicate touch, a gentle kiss of freedom, created an internal grumble - a stiff opinioned response from these dense beings.

The automatic vibration of disgust turned into an avalanche. The feather through her subtle example had set them all free. Rolling, falling, crashing, banging, blasting, cracking, breaking, crumbling, pounding heavily downwards, the hard hearts fell and cracked open. They began to experience the raw reality of stiffness against stiffness. Knocking against one another they suddenly objected to the consequences of such hardness of being.

They had always lived together in the harmony of their mutual strong-mindedness. But as they broke against one another, brothers killing brothers, hearts in pieces, mixed up and mutilated; they learnt a lot about themselves. About the nature of rigidity. How it feels in all its force when the same rigid opinion is moving at the same cynical rate in the same grumpy direction, toward each other. The physics of the collision, the stress they brought upon themselves, left their ruptured physical statures with a trace of empathy. Adding a softness to their stiffness, the grieving caused to them by their own destructive thoughts.

Some were transformed entirely into powder form. Being no longer abrasive and rockish but more fine, delicate and dusty. A few of them embraced this new illusive identity as dust. But for most it was a humiliating fate for such proud thinkers, rooted in structure and stability, to be reduced to powder and pebbles!

But the journey was symbolic. Through it they started to understand how each heart of stone was merely a reflection of their own heart of stone. Rocks reflecting rocks; minds mirroring minds. Then the rocks began to feel. To think through their feeling, to associate thought with feeling and being with thinking. They became conscious of their mind-making-matter and started observing the minds of trees, rivers, birds and breeze. They humbly turned like a child to its mother, to the more gentle harmonies within nature. Searching soulfully for the wisdom they needed on how to be a little more free in their thinking. For freedom they observed, is the highest form of wisdom indeed!

And that is the story of how the stone came to desire the river.

(Note: This is an isolated story about how one group of stones came to think about freedom. Other rocks do glorious jobs at creating foundations, adding structure, resilience and protection to the lives of many men. They teach man through their good example, about strength and duty, hard work and steadfast, whole mindedness. They are masculine and usually very reliable. These types of rocks, through the ‘luck’ of their selection to aid man are also on the evolutionary road to Self Realisation. They are good and useful energy as it manifests itself in the qualities of stone. )

No 'think' - just 'be'.

2010-10-28T10:06:00.001+11:00

Modelling Meaning...

2010-10-26T14:06:00.002+11:00

_____________________

__________________

A seemingly solid surface - Materia Prima

2010-10-25T12:38:00.005+11:00

The following images represent:

- A single moment in time.

- Potentiality.

- How matter is formed and presented to us.

- Human interactions, cause and effect.

- The mapping of a single thought firing and creating more thoughts.

(1 million (or so) x magnification on the activity taking place within our concrete world)

The fabric of our world:

of human interactions and appearance of all things material.

We are fundamentally all just bumping particles, giving off the illusion of being solid

- Nothing is ever still.

Even concrete is constantly evolving.

As particles engage with, bump-up against and respond to the energy that surrounds them, patterns are formed, matter is formed, a surface appearance is formed; relationships-between-things - are formed!

But really, it is still only the space between these interactions that permit anything to be here at all.

The space holding things together, creating definition, framing...

___________________________________

- A concrete illusion -

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nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing something nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing... etc. etc.

Ouroboros

2010-10-19T14:46:00.000+11:00

Becoming 'Other' - Materia Prima

2010-10-18T22:50:00.002+11:00

The Pilobolus Dance Theater performing 'Symbiosis'.

> watch full screen for full goodness <

'We carry in us traces of every conceivable form of human experience since the creation of heaven and earth. So not only does our imagination draw on what we've experienced in our personal trajectories through life; it also feeds on those countless generations that preceded us. Our expressive range is not confined to a human dimension. It also embraces those of fishes, plants, and amphibians. Even that gush of freedom we once felt soaring through the sky is stored in there.'

'Remember we evolve constantly... by surmounting self-imposed constraints, we can transform ourselves. Just in the same way that a butterfly finally breaks out of its cocoon and transforms itself into a free spirit, so too, can you traverse the pupal-like phase in which you are now confined. In performance, our capacity to transform ourselves is truly critical.' - Kazuo Ohno.

_________________________

Of all types of self-relational mediums, there are very few that open up the conversation about ways of 'becoming' more than dance. As bodies physically replicate their surroundings, objects, elements, animals, electricity, death, birth, confusion, anticipation, and transformation into an ongoing array of things. I am continuously taken with this concept of 'potentiality'. The ways in which we can truly become 'Other'.

There is the potential to become, and the potential regarding the endless array of possibilities of what to become. The human ability to empathise, to materialise, transcend boundaries, and become amorphous potential beings; THIS is why we create. To exist as 'Other, live through the process, and engage with life on a primary level. To exist as maker, the making, and the made.

The dancers articulate this kind of understanding through their bodies. They penetrate into a boundless world through Mimesis, through imitation of the way grass moves in the wind, the way a flower blooms, the stillness of wood, hardness of rock, the melting of wax, the violence of the ocean. They appear to enter the minds, or rather the souls of their subjects so convincingly that upon viewing you genuinely feel you are watching the original act itself. In essence you are, as they truly believe what they have become. And belief is the what we base all concrete facts upon.

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'We love to look at a flower in bloom, for we ourselves become one in doing so. For the living, 'to see' amounts to the same thing as 'to eat'. - Ohno.

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To nourish ourselves through the eyes and through the skin. I feel this very same way about particular music. As it enters your body, through audible vibrations in air; it seems to engulf, possessing from both the inside and outside. You mediate with it and become it, lying as if stolen, in the intangible, non-place center of its momentous being. It creates a shell around you, a new body to temporarily reside within. Perhaps this is what they are referring to when they call it 'a body of music'.

The body of a song. To get in and wear.

__________________________

It's always with a decent rambling that one stumbles upon conclusions or findings of interest. I think it's absolutely essential to get lost within your own thoughts, as it seems only then that you discover foreign content in your own subjective world... There must be a sense of discovery within your own work. It is as much about exploration as it is creation. They are not separate things.

NOW DOING!

2010-10-18T19:55:00.000+11:00

In preparation for the performance Materia Prima, this space is now to become home for the thematic development of ideas, projections, and suggestions - to be more easily accessed by all involved. To submit public utterances of personal processes, this wall is to be a sounding board for potential material to evolve. Placed purely for the taking (or leaving), comb through the content as you please. Some thoughts materialise into tangible objects, some do not. It's just that you have to get them out, before they cause creative congestion.

I have still yet to rinse through a few more thesis tasks, they may or may not appear here. But action is happening on many a level.

DOING! DOING! DOING!

(of all happenings) - the thread

2010-09-14T10:37:00.002+10:00

The liquid language drips through their fingers...

2010-09-13T18:49:00.000+10:00

"... But the hands gestures run everywhere through language, in their most perfect purity precisely when man speaks by being silent..." - M. Heidegger

Reflections (on touch).

Conversation: an exchange/ an interaction/ a communication between two or more/ the ideal form of communication...

Using the body's surface as the situation, the receiving-of and responding-to the information created through interaction. This exercise was conducted around an invitation. An invitation for two, to hold an intimate conversation between bodies. To converse as bodies, on bodies and through bodies, the liquid language was used as a metaphor for the engagement with a subject; a topic of conversation.

To feel ones way through; the language of touch:

They start off clean; Un-touched.

Un-marked,

without words,

without record of any previous interaction;

a first greeting of sorts.

She primes the surface of his body in white,

a preparation coating for the things waiting to be said.

She splashes words in his face

...the language is spilt,

mixed-up,

a misunderstanding perhaps?

They experience the words as (physical) sensations,

being (rubbed in)

into the skin,

their meanings remain.

At times, the same thoughts are shared,

A unity.

A single hand and the dripping,

a transference of one idea to another,

a happy reception,

agreement.

The cleansing or erasing of previous sentences

- the white wash over stains.

Opinions changed,

a series of 'sorrys',

the re-writing of a new day

speaks over the top of the others.

And at times, language wasn't even used,

the topic of conversation being purely interaction.

And that,

being enough,

being big enough a conversation to sustain singularity,

together,

one.

Non-other than bodies.

Nothing being said,

except for what was being said from skin-to-skin.

These are reflections I feel should remain unstructured. They require 'a reading into'. The language perceived is sensorial. And so, rationalisation using (actual) words seems noncore.

For the purpose of thesis structuring, this 'doing' will lead into a chapter on the conversation a designer must have with her/ his materials; the need for sensory engagement with the process and the creation of material metaphors.

This post marks the entrance of an inquiry into the relationship between bodies and ideas.

The structure of a story to come...

2010-09-13T17:00:00.000+10:00

MAKE (a conversation) WITH (touch)

2010-09-02T15:29:00.004+10:00

Filmed by Peter Ryle
Featuring Crystal and Rowan
Edited by Yianni Warnock
Direction and concept by Kitty.

> it is suggested to watch as fullscreen/ high def. Thanks. <

Everything is Everything

2010-08-06T15:23:00.003+10:00

Such is the thread of life:

"Winged like bees,

goes the thread,

through the middle

of everything thats happening

and all that is to come,

below the earth,

through coal,

above,

through misery,

with men,

with you,

with your people,

goes the thread...

string it on your zither

and you will speak with the mouth

of mighty mountains,

braid it,

and it will be the rigging

of a ship,

unwind it,

hang it with messages,

electrify it,

expose it

to wind and weather,

so that, straight again,

in one long line it will wind

around the world."

(from an 'Ode to the Thread' by Pablo Neruda)

The Age of Silence

2010-06-30T11:33:00.001+10:00

A prelude to 'a conversation (with) touch'...

"The first language humans had was gestures. There was nothing primitive about this language that flowed from peoples hands, nothing we say now that could not be said in the endless array of movements possible with the fine bones of the fingers and wrists. The gestures were complex and subtle, involving a delicacy of motion that has since been lost completely.
During the Age of Silence, people communicated more, not less. Basic survival demanded that the hands were almost never still, and so it was only during sleep (and sometimes not even then) that people were not saying something or other. No distinction was made between the gestures of language and the gestures of life. The labour of building a house, say, or preparing a meal was no less an expression than making a sign for I love you or I feel serious. When a hand was used to shield one's face when frightened by a loud noise something was being said, and when fingers were used to pick up what someone else had dropped something was being said; and even when the hands were at rest, that, too, was saying something. Naturally, there were misunderstandings. There were times when a finger might have been lifted to scratch a nose, and if casual eye contact was made with one's lover just then, the lover might accidentally take it be a gesture, not all dissimilar, for Now I realise I was wrong to love you. These mistakes were heart breaking. And yet, because people knew how easily they could happen, because they didn't go around with the illusion that they understood perfectly the things other people said, they were used to interrupting each other to ask if they'd understood correctly.
Sometimes these misunderstanding were even desirable, since they gave people a reason to say, Forgive me, I was only scratching my nose. Of coarse I know I've always been right to love you. Because of the frequency of these mistakes, over time the gesture for asking for forgiveness evolved into the simplest from. Just to open your palm was to say: Forgive me.

Aside from one exception, almost no record exists of this first language. The exception, on which all knowledge of the subject is based, is a collection of seventy-nine fossil gestures, prints of human hands frozen in midsentence and housed in a small museum in Buenos Aires. One holds the gesture for Sometimes when the rain, another for After all these years, another for Was I wrong to love you? They were found in Morocco in 1903 by Argentine doctor named Antonio de Biedma. He was hiking in the High Atlas Mountains when he discovered the cave where the seventy-nine gestures were pressed into the shale. He studied them for years without getting any closer to understanding, until one day, already suffering the fever of the dysentery that would kill him, he suddenly found himself able to decipher the meanings of the delicate motions of fist and finger trapped in stone. Soon afterwards he was taken to hospital in Fez, and as he lay dying his hands moved like birds forming a thousand gestures, dormant all those years.

If at large gatherings or parties, or around people with whom your feel distant, your hands sometimes hang awkwardly at the ends of your arms - if your find yourself at a loss for what to do with them, overcome with sadness that comes when you recognise the foreignness of your own body - its because your hands remember a time when division between mind and body, brain and heart, what's inside and what's outside, was so much less.

It's not that we've forgotten the language of gestures entirely. The habit of moving our hands while we speak is left over from it. Clapping, pointing, giving the thumbs-up: all artifacts of ancient gestures. Holding hands, for example, is a way to remember how it feels to say nothing together. And at night, when it's too dark to see, we find it necessary to gesture on each other's bodies to make ourselves understood."

Written by Nicole Krauss in The History of Love.

MAKE (a compliment) WITH (twigs)

2010-06-24T17:22:00.003+10:00

This exercise more or less turned into 'making-words-with-sticks'. Which more or less evolved into 'making-words-with-sticks-and-putting-them-back-up-trees'. Which, in essence, is still in keeping with the notion of a compliment. A compliment being something that you give. It is often encouraging, uplifting, insightful, positive, purposeful or personal.

As such, who would benefit or be complimented by a bunch of sticks more than the tree itself?

It is a way of 'giving back' part of what you have taken, of saying 'thanks'. (?) Not only that, it also speaks of the balance between consumption and production - a concept that is so heavily ingrained in my current thinking that it keeps manifesting itself through everything I do. It is this balance between 'having' and 'doing', 'using' and 'replenishing', 'taking' and 'giving'. I think we all need to be more aware of these consuming energies in our lives, or at least that's what I was personally reminded of whilst doing this exercise.

The act of a twig-making-compliment meant that it became a type of 'reflective conversation with the situation'(1), where the results appeared to 'talk-back' and a dialogue between medium and message became the focus of the inquiry. One could not ignore what the situation of 'making' was saying about the materials being used, and what the materials alone, were saying about the situation.

As the essence of this inquiry is to look precisely at how we look, how we find and how we use information and knowledge in and through the design process; my thinking has to be both backwards and forward moving in the same moment. Being both productive and reflective in equal amounts. In this case, it was the notion of 'taking' and 'giving' that informed the reflective theories generated from the twig-making-compliment exercise.

I use the word 'rekindling' to illustrate this process:

The sticks were discarded from the tree.
The sticks were taken from the environment directly surrounding.
Their natural structure then became the medium in which letters were generated, a simple re-purposing.
Letters were joined to form the greater context of a word, being smaller parts of a bigger whole.
The words in this same way, collaborated to form a sentence.

The medium we are still working with is language, words, linguistics, common symbols, shapes that can be read. The sticks are the tangible material of this language. And so the exercise becomes less about the words and more about what the words mean when they come in the form of another object. What the material, in itself, is saying.

This is the essence of a metaphor: using the qualities of something else to describe or gain insight into a more intangible concept. Using metaphor as a way of entering a subject.

The sticks were items 'taken' from the world.

A compliment is something you 'give'.

To give back something you have taken,

except in a different state from what it was originally, is design.

The twigs were then left in the tree, re-kindled and re-purposed.

(1) Schon,D, The Reflective Practitioner, Chapter 3 - 'Design as a Reflective Conversation with the Situation'.

Make / With

2010-06-21T15:08:00.006+10:00

"A mans power to connect his thought with its proper symbol, and so utter it." R.W.E

Make/ With is the first of a series of 'doings'. Generating modes of entering, engaging and responding to theory, it becomes a way of mediating by way of making. A way of looking both inwards and outwards simultaneously by engaging with both tangible and intangible worlds.

The world of appearances, materials, symbols, things,
                                                                                       the world in which we,

                                                                        as intangible beings,
                                                                                                exist.

And the world of thought,
                            feelings and attractions, instincts and nuances.
                                                                                                And how the two feed into one another.
We use the outer/ exterior world to embellish and articulate the invisible laws that construct the essence of life. Or rather, the intangible becomes tangible through the manifestation of an embodied symbol. We use this materiality to converse with, to engage with the spiritual truths that inform the appearance of life.
The world is but a language.

"It is not only words that emblematic; it is Things which are emblematic.

Every natural fact is a symbol of some spiritual fact. Every appearance in nature corresponds to some state of mind, and that state of mind can only be described by presenting that natural appearance as its picture.

An enraged man is a lion, a cunning man is a fox, a firm man is a rock, and a learned man a torch. A lamb is innocence; a snake is subtle spite; and flowers express to us delicate affections... Man is an analogist, as he studies relations in all objects." Ralph Waldo Emerson, Essays on Language and Nature, 1836

Using this study of relations between material facts and symbolic facts, the exercise unfolds as follows.

Assignment:
- Draw up a list of intangible concepts or ideas (for e.g. Purity). This must be autonomous, flowing freely from your immediate memory.
- Draw up another list alongside the first intangibles, quickly using simple associative linkages, list a tangible material that could be used to metaphorically represent/ reproduce these ideas or concepts in more concrete form ( for e.g. Purity = the colour white).
- Cut up one of the lists and place the ingredients in the box of chance.
- Draw out one tangible per intangible. Place the words alongside one another, creating a new list of pairs. They will/ should be completely dissociated, the more awkward the better.

- Select a handful and attempt to make (the intangible) with (the tangible).

P.s. I would absolutely LOVE it if anyone had the time to do Make/ With. It would be really interesting to see a variety of responses to this exercise. Please contact me if you want to participate and I'll send you a tangible/ intangible to make... x

For Rose: On wearing a sense of 'self'

2010-06-03T18:53:00.002+10:00

Read the red. Hope you can make sense of it. Let me know if my scrawlings are impossible to interpret. x

Absolute doings

2010-06-02T14:09:00.002+10:00

Extractions and siftings

2010-05-31T23:42:00.000+10:00

All extracts from:
The Medium is the Massage, Marshall McLuhan Quentin Fiore, 1967

'Use up but give back'.

2010-05-31T19:35:00.000+10:00

Some pictures to breathe on.

2010-05-27T14:19:00.000+10:00

I am feeling the need for a breather. Perhaps a little holiday. These are from around my home/ life. I feel lucky to be surrounded by such lovely things.

On posing the perfect question/ Or how to draw doors on things...

2010-05-27T13:27:00.003+10:00

I often struggle with wording. Especially when it comes to the art of question posing for further research. It is implied that you already know something about the topic, so for this an initial gathering of information is key. In response to that you formulate questions; doors that will lead you into the right rooms. I always try to draw doors on things that are extremely hard to enter via any immediate/ usual mode of entering. Getting frustrated by this I decided to employ a third party to initiate decision making and focus: A box!

Results are obviously dependent on what you put in the box. You may not produce answers but you will generate new ways of looking at things, which ideally is the essence of research itself. It becomes a way of choosing by way of using. Maintaining always an element of control over the content yet relinquishing the power over how it is used: the rhetoric. Inviting an organised kind of chance and opening up possibilities to see into things/ words and the power they alone hold in the execution of an idea.

In 'the art of question posing', initial thoughts, keywords and autonomous ramblings were hacked and placed in the box. A selection of roughly 5 words were chosen at each interval, grouped and moved about on the page. Generating the semblance of a question forming. Middle/ joining words were added if necessary. This became a method of framing a basic syntactic enquiry.

By isolating the words and releasing the rule of sentence structure, words were smashed up against each another having had no previous relationship to one another. (Like a more harmonised version of the public transport system at rush hour.)

By reading into these word formations, the process of creating meaning occurs:

"Every reading modifies its object."

"To read is to wander through an imposed system (that of the text, analogous to the constructed order of a city or supermarket)."

"The 'book' is a result (a construction) produced by the reader."

(Michel Charles, Rhetorique de la lecture referenced by Michel de Certeau in The Practice of Everyday Life, London, 1984)

Some of these are more intelligible than others, a quick interpretation has been stapled to each a successful word bunching. This quick, freestyle method became a generative process which then led to a series of more refined research questions, for e.g:

- Can 'Fashion' exist beyond representation? And in what mediums (or non-mediums) can/ does it currently exist?

If you put bananas in the box you wont get back apples, but you might get a banana split!

Does a messy desk with copious amounts of tangled string = productive?

2010-05-27T00:46:00.004+10:00

Born from a basic need to make and review the made. To balance the thinking with the doing, the consuming with producing and of coarse theory with practice. This space will become a temporary home for some mini research experiments or doings. Attempting to eventually turn the 'mini' into a type of mega, I first need to start this whole balancing conversation on the topic of time and scope. Time = not much. Scope = hugely over-ambitious. For now: just doing!

The research takes on a practice-based approach. The theories reflect the doings reflect the readings stimulate more doings which stimulate more reflecting... etc. It is in a sort of rocking motion (backwards and forwards and feeding in from the sides) that the analysis and happenings will occur. So maybe more of a rocking sort of wobble. That is if this figure/ map (below) was to be interpreted into body movements.

On being present

2010-04-19T21:56:00.001+10:00

The following images are to separate the 'then' from the 'now'. They quite aptly illustrate the (non) happenings in between but also a moment of departure and boost into the realm of 'DOING'. This space is to get things out of (and into) 'the system' at the same time. I don't always make sense and am specifically vague. The things I make are equally as vague and I am attracted to elusive and intangible things. This is probably the reason I make/ do fashion.

Moving from the slow into the slower, the rockets appear to be ironic. They are not.

Collectors Collective:

2010-03-25T09:43:00.002+11:00

Happy you're not dead day!!

2010-02-25T21:41:00.000+11:00

This one's for Emr. She's my favourite Lyell and it's her birthday today. Love you poss.

Stimulations

2010-02-13T11:00:00.002+11:00

I love Ohno.

Love at her fingertips

2010-02-13T10:38:00.000+11:00

Yes, things like this still happen!!
One of my girlfriends recently attempted Rainbow Serpent for the first time. Upon embarking on a concoction of dream- like substances she was well and truly off with the fairies (which isn't too far removed from her usual nature actually). So anyhow she stumbled into a random van where she met a bunch of Itialians, one of which (quote, unquote) "kissed her back into reality." But no numbers where exchanged and that was that.

The following week, perusing down Sydney road she found this note attached to a pole. Actually there was 40 notes and 40 poles. The only information she had told him was that she lives in Brunswick. Now that's effort!

Too close for comfort

2010-01-31T12:17:00.003+11:00

I should have dedicated myself to this post a long time ago.
And because they exist nowhere else other than my cluttered interior living quarters; I feel they should be released.
I think secretly I was hoping they might be published somewhere before I needed to go on self promoting; but alas they are not.

Needless to say, this is my graduate collection: 'Furnishing the Self'
(The following words are extracts from my book which documents the entire process from start to finish. They explain the sentiment/ concept behind the work.)

~~"The chair-dwellings;~~

A soft malleable shell is modeled on the stagnant object at hand thus forming a reproduced surface - a loose, shed-able skin which now moves beyond its original form. By imbuing the object with 'inner space' it can be experienced in new ways. What was once an object used to dwell on, can now be inhabited from the inside... it can attach itself more literally to the body as it does so metaphorically by being an anchor point in the person experience of 'home'.

And so the process of reconstructing dwelling space begins. A series of soft sculptures engulf the body and invite it to remain. Shaped or modeled on stagnant domestic objects, the floating homes are made more human through the act of wearing. By changing the angle of the relationship to the body, such a performance breathes life into the objects as they are animated by the cloth and worn by the body. Thus ~~Furnishing the Self~~."

Photography by Peter Ryle.
Hair and makeup by Ash @ Look Productions.
Models are Ruby and Matt from Viviens.

And from Twenty Eight; our graduate exhibition... installation:

Snippits O' Summer

2010-01-29T00:14:00.005+11:00

Along with the urge to simplify. Re-assess. Recover. Re-discover. Re-belong...re re ra. Also came the need to go home. New Zealand is beautiful.
The days fold into one, the body seems to hum. The following is a collection of crops, discarded photos in a weeny little plastic (wood veneer) album I found in Arthurs Emporium.
You can find anything there... ANYTHING!

This, I will not dwell on (the not being there always thing). Just need to keep myself light(ish) with the knowledge that it will always remain. Que Sera, Sera.

Now to come back down and get back on with it. Hello 2010.

bearing light

2009-12-23T11:16:00.000+11:00

Away from current life yet can't bear to let this one drift. My old friends refresh me but THIS directs me. The current issue of Another has a large article on Kazuo Ohno. I read it three times on the plane. It devoured me. It speaks of letting the spiritual moments direct your artistic response to life. His words astound, they are familiar. I feel so silly to have forgotten these things in my own life.

"The most important things in life trickle down randomly, drop by drop."

'Emotional Porn'

2009-12-07T12:30:00.000+11:00

A 'do' preview... coming soon

2009-12-07T11:46:00.000+11:00

"An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind." // For the love of the loin cloth.

2009-11-27T09:30:00.003+11:00

I sometimes dream in Indian.

Current muse...

2009-11-25T20:42:00.001+11:00

I am in love with Gold Coast Granny. Tis my inspiration for summer dress.

All images via googles search for 'hot/ fake tan/ grannies/ florida/ gold coast/ theres something about mary.'

The Wild Party

2009-11-25T18:42:00.001+11:00

Any thespians at heart should definitely go see this play. (Jess and I may have also had a little something to do with the costumes) but aside from that it's a really amusing treat. It's an incredibly dynamic script, adapted from a poem by Joseph Moncure March, and a great deal of it is spoken - much like beat poetry. The actors are amazing, continually switching from role to role before your eyes... and they carry out the accents tremendously well.

I shall post more pics of the production a little later. But go... every Wed at Bella Union Bar, Trades Hall.... Flier:

Things I want to eat.

2009-11-24T17:19:00.000+11:00

Recycled information, at least of the beautiful kind.
Ever since I stumbled upon this blog earlier this year (a late bloomer), I have been nothing but consistently inspired, touched, amazed... and brought closer to myself. I get this uncanny (human?) urge whenever I come in touch with things that pull at my heart strings, in that I seriously want to eat it... or have it somehow contained within me.
Literal consumption I guess - a physical hunger for beauty?
Anyhow... that's how I feel about most of the content in Sang Bleu. It's attention to the human body is what draws my interest most, being myself obsessed with its form and surface. This is exactly the kind of publication I would love to work for/ be seen in... maybe I'll work up the goods for a submission?...

Projections.

2009-11-04T17:04:00.005+11:00

These are home scans of a series of acetate slides I projected upon walls for my Furnishing the Self

assessment. They are extracts from my book. Some are research pages and others are images we made with the final garments.

Photo's by Peter Ryle and Kitty G.

'Wu Yong' - (useless)

2009-10-27T11:06:00.000+11:00

> This collection does something to me that I can't quite explain.

Designer is Ma Ke. Images by Zhou Mi.

Patrick Watson

2009-10-19T13:09:00.005+11:00

One of the most beautiful songs ever written.

'things extend away from us in all directions'

2009-10-12T18:33:00.000+11:00

Adventures first! Explanations take such a dreadful time.

It’s a pilot issue. An accumulative expanse of stored experience. Another place to inhabit, another place to belong? This blog is merely one of many (to be yet defined) re-insertion techniques, into a society feared to be an outskirt. It’s not about me. It’s about things, idea’s, conversation. It will have no structure. Moments of clarity socialize with nebulous notions. The words are sifted thoughts, as immediate as they come. Not belonging to any specific container, it will grow itself if need be.