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the empty places with too much in them [Aug. 29th, 2009|11:28 am]
where shadows are tattoos
The faceless-ness makes it feel like fiction even though they would probably have been a lot like me. which parts though. I used to have dreams about Maybe -an unborn child, mine, but never of any of my ancestors. All those people whose whims led to my existence; would I even know them if they travelled time to bump into me in Brunswick. No just she who would travel through time to be a bump in my belly. It's been so long since I've seen her.

and now this is happening
It's not just mishearing and my crazy imagination- I just realised Tom Waits - Town with no Cheer really is about riding on the overland from Melbourne to Adelaide, which is something she told me but I didn't click about until now. Then there's "If you wait I'll give all my aches to you", which is from another song entirely but is in my head anyway. oh my Spirograph mind.
I have been thinking about taking up high school maths as a hobby. Really I could just sit in an empty room with her. Even in busy full rooms where I try to avert my eyes, she warms my day.
male eyes adjust white balance better than females but apparently this makes all light colours seem white. Which explains the trouble I'm having convincing any male that Falcor from the neveredning story movie is light pink. I am basing my weave projecton the theme Falcor vs Nothing.

late to party
The countdown is on until a dear friend of mine becomes a housemate. We have been reshuffling furniture from the spare room into other rooms. Some of the stuff got shuffled into the newly tidied back area of our shop which is already messy and full. The sewing machine, the overlocker, the spinning wheel will live there. I tried to aquire a knitting machine also. It's going to be a making space. I'm going to start a collective.
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feeling like a pervy old artist man [Jul. 19th, 2009|03:25 pm]
I need people to paint. I need people to let me take pictures of them so I can paint. It's been too long since I have. I paint faces. That's pretty much my thing so I want to start again with that. I like painting from photographs or life. people hate sitting still. so.
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Losing friends and the influence of people [Jul. 13th, 2009|03:42 pm]
I forgot to vote in Triple J's Hottest 100 songs of all time. There's no point critiquing a list that isn't based on any one thinking persons opinions. Around 500,000 people picked what they liked and this is what came out of it. Nope, no point critiquing, but analysing maybe, and asking questions those things are okay...

So what I'm asking is why no female artists? I realise this was a popular music countdown and not a list of important and interesting people so why wonder about the representation of female songwriters, vocalists or frontwomen? why not wonder about the under-representation of harmonica harp or harpsicord? Because women are half of the global population and because there are more songs written by sung by or led by women than songs that contain harmonica harp or harpsicord.

In high school my then best friend and I realised how few female artists where in our cd collections. It was odd, we didn't know we didn't listen to female artists, and once we counted it out in crystal cases it was a bit startling. Not to say that gender should come into musical preferences, but when, without even noticing and without any concious dislike for female artists we had nonetheless not chosen them. Being so young and more immersed in radio and video clips I blamed it on an imbalance in the industry and media and made a point to keep my ears open. Was it related to patriachy, maternity? I didn't want to know I just wanted not to be missing out music I might like.

I don't want to get all old school feminist here -it's not my favourite flavour of feminism- but I can't help but feel shocked by this. 100 songs. no females. Is this the 12th century? I wouldn't even be writing this if there were 10 songs, a handful - that fact is shocking in itself- but none? I know it shouldn't matter and has no direct impact on my life but it feels so damn much like being put in my place. Like the world is a big boys club. It's not a nice feeling.

In related matters it seems a bit daft for the triple j website to allow people to comment on the countdown song by song- it's just begging for the internet to bring out the worst (in) people. What can you possibly say:
"yay i'm glad this got in the list"
"your such an idiot this song is a piece of shit what's wrong with the world"
"no you're an idiot and whatever song you like is a piece of shit take that!"

I'm still putting off writing an email about an age old she said/she said situation. I don't think we'll ever figure out whether her chicken or my egg came first and I don't know where we go from there... or if. So I must be old then. To have lost a friend, and not to the wilds and wonders of the world like the rest of them, but to our own differences. Of all my old dear friends the only ones geographically close to me are the ones I've 'lost' how did friendships stray so far from my hopes?

So overall I'm not a very comfortable member of the human family today.
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Home or Holiday [Jul. 12th, 2009|03:34 pm]
Adelaide always seems very clean and quiet. spacious.
It doesn't feel like home anymore but it has a sort of belonging pull that Melbourne doesn't have. Melbourne is home because I have set up house, have cats, boy, furniture, responsibilities and everyday activities here. So it was sort of like a holiday to go to Adelaide this week, a holiday to somewhere that will be home again one day.

My oldest dog, Daisy, was thin and disoriented. She had been growing old gracefully for what seemed like years but I was shocked to see her this way. She didn't seem to be getting anything out of life. The vet confirmed that she had dementia and was probably confused and restless most of the time. She was the oldest dog he had ever seen - well over a hundred in canine terms. I held her while she was overdosed on sleep. I wanted to stay until she wasn't warm anymore. You can't ever go back in time and give more hugs.

I read 3 years worth of old journals. They varied wildly between beautiful and extremely cringe-inducing. The best part was when my high school friends and I used to stay at a beach house at Middleton. It was like the parts in Harry Potter where they are at the Burrow. It filled me with remembered joy and longing. Not because I don't still see those people sometimes -a few are still my very best friends- but the time seems long gone when people I love could be gathered together, carefree for longer than a day. I suppose that's part of the reason people make families.
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Before I even write... [Jun. 24th, 2009|05:23 pm]
Today I am the person between < and >
What was my tattoo if not a prayer that “our paths shall cross”?
Our ways always intertwined even without our knowing

I had almost given up and then suddenly
“sorry" and "please" and "can we”
My skin sings

I too must throw an overdue rope out to another
Grasping the one I caught in my hand like an anchor
I am the person between two flung ropes
A boat

I write here before I even write to either of them, because it was something of a revelation for me. The same revelation I always have and that I always mention in this place so that I remember -yet I’m continually surprised by it in each repackaging- that life's always moving and me in it. That the red thread stretches, tangles and curls but is never cut.


We have been watching twin peaks. It’s a shame the way it outclasses every other tv show ever. So I can’t help but get over my ambivalence for David Lynch. Yeah I’m jumping on the damn bandwagon –alpha 60 dead laura palmer tee and all- almost 20 years too late.

Speaking of dead things, the store is having a chillingly quiet June, which my retail friends tell me is to be expected. Everyone is on sale harder and earlier but I’m not sure what is the right action to take for us. Have to remember that the business is a moving living thing- I have to keep things flowing in and out of it. Can we be self sufficient soon please universe? We’d really dig that.

Having holidays makes me realise how lonely I am and how bad I am of making use of freedom once I have it. I think I’m still in shock-recovery from the intensity of my usual semester hours. I don’t even have the drive or energy yet for all those things I wished I could do while I was doing this or that assignment: writing, oil painting, massive tidying and ordering of house. Playing catch-up with the shop has been enough for the moment.

We finally bought a Bokashi Bin! Not sure if I have the hang of it yet but there’s nothing like tackling the guilt of food waste and my garden’s need for fertilizer in one fell swoop. On the one-day pile is a proper compost bin for a big food garden but for now this is very handy.

We had our boy kitten desexed yesterday and I’m strangely sad about it. Stray cat’sare a huge environmental and animal welfare problem in urban Melbourne so I rationally understand the need and I’ve never had a problem with the idea before. Somehow this time, perhaps because he is under my very own guardianship and I paid, it felt like sending a creature I loved to be mutilated without its permission. He’s doing well, animals are little troopers, its affecting me more than him.

I have been thinking about the uses of bodies beyond their owners’. After watching a contenstant kill her first fish on Master Chef actually. Bodies are and are used organically, fluidly- changing with their uses is silent but material ways. Hardening, stretching, inflating, twitching, flexing. Then something external comes along –fashion, fetish, violence, a surgeon, a butcher, an autopsy, disease- and says “this part is for this now” and gives it another name and themselves permission to partake of a new use. “Ideally it will look this way” they say. They have skills and experience associated with this re-imagining of the body and these help them feel more entitled to it.

The other day I clawed some moss out of a crack in the cobbled street with my bare fingernails. I put it over the exposed roots of my Bansai. It’s still alive and moist. I am glad.
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When the death of your civilisation precedes you [May. 18th, 2009|01:00 am]
[Tags|, , , , , ]

So right now my lover is a bit miffed. He took me to see star trek and I hated it pretty hard. This morning when I woke up he left some strategic browser windows open with people justifying the time travel as scientifically plausible. There a a few things I wont watch in movie -rape, torture and time travel. The first two will cause me to avoid an entire film if I have an inkling they'll be present. I'll see a movie with time travel but it has to really, really, really well resolved for me to enjoy it. I simply cannot suspend disbelief for time travel as it is presented in most films, it's like a glitch I have. This movie was no exception.

more star trek?Collapse )

"things I have loved I'm allowed to keep. I'll never know if I go to sleep"
Getting to the end of the Dollhouse series took persistence, I had to turn off my cheese aversion and was troubled that it could become 'monster of the week' in a worse way than buffy ever could because if we became comfortable and blase about what was going on it would be a pretty bleak outlook for humanity. At the end of the day I trust Joss Whedon - I'm not rabidly worshipping at his alter but he taught me a lot in my formative years and kept me interested beyond them. So I give him a bit more elastic than I would any other TV writer. Every now and then through the cringing, sighing and giggling I would become really excited and interested with where this show could go.
The finale made it all worth it.

more dollhouse?Collapse )

"it's like trying to clean the ocean, what do you think you can drain it? It was poison and dry long before you came"
Abolitionist vs welfarist veganism: Today I learned the difference between these things. Having lived in a vacuum where I was the only vegan I knew I'd never heard the terms before- although I had an awareness that there were folks who were vegan to prevent suffering and folks who felt animals were not for human use at all. I was for the most part in the former category but understanding of the latter. While reading about these things on the interweb I struck on some points that rang true for me:
1. Veganism is a base- a starting point for ethical practice not extremist and certainly not all that I feel I should do.
2. Veganism is not to be venerated- recieving overt praise and respect for being vegan makes me very uncomfortable. From my perspective I couldn't not be vegan- I couldn't believe what I do and not act on it. It's everyday, I am healthy and it's not difficult. It's like being praise for not beating people up in the street.

It also got me thinking about how long it's been since I've really examined this part of my life. It's been well over 5 years and I've not seriously worked through the philosophy behind my decision since making it. It's as natural as sleep-so I'm hardly a soldier for the cause. I've never much wanted to be a soldier for it though. If there's one thing I learned from my christian years it was that a well lived life is the best promotion for your beliefs and preaching is more often than not a deterrent for others or fuel for conflict. Maybe it's a copout though. hmm.
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there but for the grace of god go i [May. 17th, 2009|07:13 pm]
If you boiled down my entire engagement with the world to three elements they would be: embodied experiences, connections and ethics.
Embodied experiences: the way things feel (to touch, texture) and look, how they are made and experienced, design and it's relationship to quality of life. What it means to be embodied.
Connections: how people interact with each other and their environment, how different 'fields' of knowlege and experience relate to each other, dejavu, metaphor, story.
Ethics: How to live best, if everyone did _____ what would the world be like, if
_____ continued what kind of future world would result.

I have a tendency to be excitable, silly, obsessive, overwhelmed, a procrastinator, surprised by my achievements, infatuated.

In the past I had a more balanced lifestyle, thrived on working at the Elephant Walk, lived in rent free luxury in the family home, was nocturnal, spent too much time trying to call my boyfriend.

Everyday I eat a block of chocolate (dark, vegan, mint, fair trade organic), dream up some crazy future plan, complain (sad but true), chew my cats ear, miss Adelaide.

Lately I Download TV, miss meals, worry too much, have no weekends, crave gardening, find living with my boy the most natural wonderful experience of our relationship, have no money, have a crush on a girl, eat pink grapefruits, can very nearly walk in heels.

In the Future I hope to have 2-4 children natural or adopted; work four out of seven days a week; Have an amazing living home that's almost self sufficient, covered with plants, comfortable warm, inspiring and an integrated part of a great community; Bring together all of my strong threads of interest together; develop tangible useful skills which I use creatively to enrich life and solve complex problems- probably this will involve textiles but my dream is to be involved in designing whole systems eg businesses, buildings,the whole production and use of a garment; Finish My Book; Spend some time living in Iceland and Cuba visit Japan, Russia, Sweden, Nepal, Tibet; Find over and over my beautiful soul mates watch them bloom and spread and rise; Find many Woods and Fields and take the time to explore them.

guilty pleasures strawberry sour straps, ok magazine, wearing stock (hemp hoodlamb jackets) while I'm in the shop to keep warm.

Today there was a lamb(?)'s head on the footpath on my bike journey to work. Way up there with the grossest things I've ever seen.
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writing to/at/for/on/about/in/from the ether [May. 2nd, 2009|11:11 pm]
In my life at present I have many things I had long hoped for: a little home with cats and my boy, a place in my dream course, a clothes shop with an ethical focus.
I have some sense of belonging in my suburb- which would be hard to avoid since I barely leave it.

A lot of indigenous Australians speak about belonging to their land rather than the other way around. There is a humility and responsibility in that, which is entirely lacking in traditional western capitalist thought. What a strange thing to have stolen from people. "Spinifex Man" on the ABC last night said that traditionally after birth the child's ubilical cord is wrapped around them and allowed to drop off naturally. Where it falls is the land they belong to- a part of them. In a hospital it is cut and probably burnt injuring early on one's sense of belonging.

The week I pretty successfully made a potato and leek soup to rival my mothers. I less successfully tried to recreate Ying Chow's Salt and Pepper Bean Curd-so desperate is my craving for it. I got the texture and the topping pretty spot on -I was proud for my first deep frying attempt- but the salt content was through the roof and we couldn't even finish our servings. Next time though....so close.

Finances and grades could use some raising and wednesday afternoon is my only free day time. I miss weekends but not as much as I thought I would. I am clucky but childbearing seems a more distant reality than ever before. I have some caterpillars in jars that picked off my food plants- I hope they dookay or I'llhave to release them in a park or something even before they are butterflies in a flash back of 6 year old guilt when that kid brett with the rat eyes and stick out ears told me it was cruel to keep them. This was quite the young life crisis for an already vegetarian child whose primary creative excercise was upcycling packaging into (what I thought were) elaborate insect fun parks.

I filled a whole mini moleskine with book-writing even filling in holes. I have been swimming in a sea of fiction.
the bit where I review things. chock full of spoilersCollapse )

If you skipped that bit here's the summary: I recommend Let the right One In and Big Love and I un-recommend True Blood, rewatch buffy instead -that's what we're doing in our house.

I have been thinking a lot about equality of difference- allowing people to flourish on their own terms rather than meet some neutral standard. Strangely this was prompted by recent reality tv, vampire fictions and long ago readings of Irigaray. Now that I have written so much about all the fiction I had been indulging in Idon't have any energy left to write about these thought properly.

I'm imaging a fantasy day where I'm surrounded by cushy pillows and eat hot vegetable and legume soups and write and read and fall in an out of slumber. mmmmmm. that's what sick days used to be like these days I'm at work orat uni or doing some kind of homework the only opt-out-able pursuit was tonight's social engagement. A lonely night coughing and internet ranting in warmth was still better for my health than cold, energy requiring social stimulation...right? Anyhow the next best thing to the pillow fantasy might be to head to bed early. goodnight land of nod.
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PostValentine [Feb. 15th, 2009|11:27 pm]
My boy made a sudden trip back to our hometown and I am here languishing in a furry pool of downloaded Big Love and babysat kittens. Instead of watching the Godfather(s) -which I have never seen- with my Brunshood Pseudo-brothers (his friends which are now mine through socialising in his absence) I am trying to perhaps think and write and paint. Is is too much to ask of myself?

The way I talk these days I'm surprised I can string together a correctly constructed sentence for the ether here. I have been paying better attention to livejournal lately but in doing so very much miss the time when there were new exciting people to be found. Now I'm not even sure how I used to stumble accross them I'm so out of touch. I have gotten to a point were I've been an active internet communitarian for long enough that I have sentimental feelings toward real people who, as I've never met them, are as good as characters.

We are in pre-business Limbo because our future-landlord is completely uncontactable by the real estate agent. I am going through more money than I had ever seen before getting the show on the road ,the excitement levels too are through the roof so you must understand the frustration at this road block. I hope she works for medecins san frontiers that's about the only excuse I would except at this point for the lag in communication of over 2 weeks between a verbal approval of our application for tenancy and the signing of a lease.

Soon enough I start weaving my further future by diving into higher education once more. Our class is 28 young women. Not a token male or older lady in sight. It will be like Loreto again except with trend draped blossomed bodies instead of saggy uniforms and also no annual Catholic mass. This scares me just a little. One of the girls at enrolment was so stunning it knocked my socks off. She was quiet, thumbing magazines in a black backless top, petite and even later arriving than I was.

I wore his jeans today and felt our differences in them. tight on the waist and room in the crotch. Having him away after having him everyday makes me feel like an unstrung puppet- forgotten how to move myself. I hope he is home tomorrow
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Liber Oz [Feb. 8th, 2009|10:58 pm]
you are an axis upon which i spin
and then i sleep in yolky warmth
and dream of others and fearful new places
and wonder if we can renew and renew
and believe still in our love


There's a messiah in my yard again
filling his friends with his stream of consciousness
and i wonder at how much they believe or agree
how much they understand and how much they nod away
how close his thoughts are to mine and how far
and how glad i am to be quieter (or how guilty)
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