It's called
SNATCHES: a mystery in six parts.
Letterpress (using bits of 20 years worth of un-dissed hell type) and ink drawings on this funky polyester cover sheeting that I discovered and have been hoarding.
Not bad for a weekend's work, eh?
Monday, June 30, 2008
because there hasn't been enough making on this blog...
...here's a preview of the book Byrd and I just collaboratively submitted to an exhibition called Into The Fold, opening at Artisan Books (Gertrude St, Melbourne) in August:
It's called
SNATCHES: a mystery in six parts.
Letterpress (using bits of 20 years worth of un-dissed hell type) and ink drawings on this funky polyester cover sheeting that I discovered and have been hoarding.
Not bad for a weekend's work, eh?
It's called
SNATCHES: a mystery in six parts.
Letterpress (using bits of 20 years worth of un-dissed hell type) and ink drawings on this funky polyester cover sheeting that I discovered and have been hoarding.
Not bad for a weekend's work, eh?
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Ask the universe
I need to find two people, and maybe someone out there can help.
1. A home hairdresser (i.e. someone who will come to your home and do old-lady perms, sets and cuts) who does not call an elderly client 'luv' or 'darl'.
2. A bookkeeper who will not scoff at a numerically dyslexic and completely disorganised artistic type. And has room on their books for one more hopeless client.
Anyone know anyone in the Canberra vicinity? If so, email me (ampersandduck doing the gmail thing).
I'd be ever so grateful.
Or, if you're not local, feel free to share your own hairdressing / accountancy problems.
1. A home hairdresser (i.e. someone who will come to your home and do old-lady perms, sets and cuts) who does not call an elderly client 'luv' or 'darl'.
2. A bookkeeper who will not scoff at a numerically dyslexic and completely disorganised artistic type. And has room on their books for one more hopeless client.
Anyone know anyone in the Canberra vicinity? If so, email me (ampersandduck doing the gmail thing).
I'd be ever so grateful.
Or, if you're not local, feel free to share your own hairdressing / accountancy problems.
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Take a walk in my shoes
Thanks to the magic of seeing Lorraine Crescent in action, I'm giving you a sample of what I've been listening to on my shuffle. Some of my fav songs aren't available, sadly (like Eleni Mandell's 'Taking you out', which is highly recommended for any women who (a) like Hothead Paisan or (b) have the shits with men in general), but this is a pretty good cross-section.
[For anyone interested, the Billy Joel song is what I'm having played at my funeral. Don't laugh. Or do, I don't care.]
Anyway, I hope you enjoy. I haven't set it to start automatically; I decided to give you the choice of pressing the play button :)
PS: if you decide to make on of these yourself, check the songs carefully before you put them on your playlist. I've had to edit this a couple of times, the first because a couple of songs were running at double time, and once because it was a completely different song, even though it has said the correct artist and track name! Sheesh.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Remember to Breathe
It's Zoe's birthday! She's feeling the strain of nursing sick kids (including big kids) for weeks on end, so how about you pop over to either of her blogs and tell her how wonderful she is.
In the immortal words of the Bard:
Love's in need
Of love today
Don't delay,
Send yours in right away...
(doo doo do do doo doo)
(
)
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Wintery wonders
It's really winter, at last. Yesterday Bumblebee and I were riding to school, swathed in knitted headwear, wind-proof jackets and thick gloves. He looked at me and said How much longer is winter? with a big cloud of fog leaving his mouth as he said it. All I could say is A lot longer; this is only the first month. To his credit, he kept riding stoically.
I've spent the last two days over at the Canberra Institute of Technology, sitting on an assessment panel for their art and design diploma students. I've been riding my bike there, and on the way I ride through the above park, next to Civic. This photo was taken at 9am this morning.
There's a calm about Canberra at certain times of the year (and day) that really appeals to me. I love feeling like the only person left roaming the earth... this morning was one of those moments. Usually I only get that sensation on a Sunday night at about 9pm, or in the wee small hours of any Canberra morning. This morning there was a light mist in the air, and I felt like I was moving under water. The trees were stretching up, the same way I'd been stretching up in yoga the night before, trying to remember to keep my shoulder-blades down and my side ribs up.
They didn't look naked, or shivering, or thin, like so many winter trees do. They were reaching, breathing, and loving the cool damp air as much as I was.
I've been embracing the cold, enjoying the chance to make comfort food (tonight we had our favorite beetroot risotto followed by a wonderful nutty quince cake that BB made yesterday) and reading good books (in my nice warm bed, of course).
I was very excited a few weeks ago to discover that Joan London had released another novel, a long time after her amazing first book, Gilgamesh. I adored Gilgamesh because it was so dense with layers and thoughts and yet seemed so simple. It was anchored to outback WA, yet roamed into exotic territory in Europe and the Middle East. Her latest effort, The Good Parents, again has its roots firmly in rural WA, and again roams, but this time she doesn't leave Australia's shores, and instead of being set in the past, she stays firmly in a contemporary scenario. She still explores issues of loss and intimacy, but it's a tighter circle. It seems deceptively simple, but I think when I revisit it (I like a gap of about 12 months for words to lie fallow) I'll find similar archetypal layering to the first novel.
On the weekend I started Sophie Cunningham's latest novel, Bird. I found it very hard to put down, and last night found myself unable to turn out the light as I was trapped in Leningrad under the most horrific circumstances. I can't praise this book highly enough; it just kept me rapt the whole way through, and I learned -- ingested -- more about Buddhism during the course of the book than I have from flipping through countless 'Buddhism for dummies'-type volumes over the years. Which is not to say it's a boringly didactic book. No, it's an international romp with sparkle, depth and feeling. I read a review that praised Sophie's ability to maintain such distinct voices for her characters, and it's true.
Now I've started her first book, Geography, which I know is the wrong way around, but I have a habit of wanting to read batches of books by the same author, and Bird just looked too luscious to wait for. I know the third novel is about Leonard and Virginia Woolf, which excites me greatly, and may I just say here, Sophie, that if you want a glossary of printing terminologies (I heard you fumbling around for 'printing metal' today on The Book Show) to add authenticity to Leonard's voice, I'm your girl. Of course, you may be thoroughly well-researched, and just had a blank moment this morning :)
By the way, that Book Show link was about the latest Meanjin, if you missed it. Good stuff.
I'm not sure which direction I'll head when I've finished Geography. Either it will send me somewhere I need to go, or I'll do my usual re-reading of something classic until inspiration hits me. I may need to go back to Mansfield Park, just to reassure myself that Jane really did know best.
I've spent the last two days over at the Canberra Institute of Technology, sitting on an assessment panel for their art and design diploma students. I've been riding my bike there, and on the way I ride through the above park, next to Civic. This photo was taken at 9am this morning.
There's a calm about Canberra at certain times of the year (and day) that really appeals to me. I love feeling like the only person left roaming the earth... this morning was one of those moments. Usually I only get that sensation on a Sunday night at about 9pm, or in the wee small hours of any Canberra morning. This morning there was a light mist in the air, and I felt like I was moving under water. The trees were stretching up, the same way I'd been stretching up in yoga the night before, trying to remember to keep my shoulder-blades down and my side ribs up.
They didn't look naked, or shivering, or thin, like so many winter trees do. They were reaching, breathing, and loving the cool damp air as much as I was.
I've been embracing the cold, enjoying the chance to make comfort food (tonight we had our favorite beetroot risotto followed by a wonderful nutty quince cake that BB made yesterday) and reading good books (in my nice warm bed, of course).
I was very excited a few weeks ago to discover that Joan London had released another novel, a long time after her amazing first book, Gilgamesh. I adored Gilgamesh because it was so dense with layers and thoughts and yet seemed so simple. It was anchored to outback WA, yet roamed into exotic territory in Europe and the Middle East. Her latest effort, The Good Parents, again has its roots firmly in rural WA, and again roams, but this time she doesn't leave Australia's shores, and instead of being set in the past, she stays firmly in a contemporary scenario. She still explores issues of loss and intimacy, but it's a tighter circle. It seems deceptively simple, but I think when I revisit it (I like a gap of about 12 months for words to lie fallow) I'll find similar archetypal layering to the first novel.
On the weekend I started Sophie Cunningham's latest novel, Bird. I found it very hard to put down, and last night found myself unable to turn out the light as I was trapped in Leningrad under the most horrific circumstances. I can't praise this book highly enough; it just kept me rapt the whole way through, and I learned -- ingested -- more about Buddhism during the course of the book than I have from flipping through countless 'Buddhism for dummies'-type volumes over the years. Which is not to say it's a boringly didactic book. No, it's an international romp with sparkle, depth and feeling. I read a review that praised Sophie's ability to maintain such distinct voices for her characters, and it's true.
Now I've started her first book, Geography, which I know is the wrong way around, but I have a habit of wanting to read batches of books by the same author, and Bird just looked too luscious to wait for. I know the third novel is about Leonard and Virginia Woolf, which excites me greatly, and may I just say here, Sophie, that if you want a glossary of printing terminologies (I heard you fumbling around for 'printing metal' today on The Book Show) to add authenticity to Leonard's voice, I'm your girl. Of course, you may be thoroughly well-researched, and just had a blank moment this morning :)
By the way, that Book Show link was about the latest Meanjin, if you missed it. Good stuff.
I'm not sure which direction I'll head when I've finished Geography. Either it will send me somewhere I need to go, or I'll do my usual re-reading of something classic until inspiration hits me. I may need to go back to Mansfield Park, just to reassure myself that Jane really did know best.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Delights of the Day
1. Going to the farmer's market and buying my first bunch of poppies for the year (and lovely smelly jonquils for only $3.50 a bunch!).
2. Walking Bumblebee across the Lyneham ovals for his tennis make-up lesson, enjoying the cool morning and thanking the universe that he doesn't play regular and randomly time-tabled weekend sport like all the poor buggers who were playing netball and footy nearby.
3. Going to see the latest Indiana Jones movie with Bumblebee and thoroughly enjoying the many in-jokes that he wasn't getting due to lack of age and experience.
4. Taking Bumblebee to a local sushi cafe and using the little sushi conveyor belt for his first time.
5. Spending the rest of the afternoon guillotining paper until my arm nearly fell off, then arriving home to find Best Beloved preparing a roast chook (with lemon and herbs under the skin) for tea.
6. Having BB show me what looked like a fans-only nostalgia trip on YouTube about Mike Willesee mocking Dr Who fans for flocking to interview the director (circa 1984), a clip which dragged on and on until suddenly BB froze it and pointed out himself in the front row.
he made sure to tell me that Jeannie Little was just out of camera shot. This is one of his major memories of the occasion. I'm sure he thought she was a character in full costume or something.
Heh. My lovely nerd-in-training, complete, if you'll note, with looooong Dr Who scarf. Now that he's grown, he's passing on the costuming bug to Bumblebee (not that he's EVER needed encouragement), who has been cultivating his David Tennant look, wearing a black duffel coat with white gym boots and striking poses with the only BFG I will let him have (one of those highly coloured plastic supersoaker thingies), and more often a weird lego thingy that is the sonic screwdriver. We are a Doctor-loving household, and now that BB has the hots for The Catherine Tate Show, I'm sure we'll be glued to the next Dr Who series (I'm resisting -- very hard -- the temptation to download it, because my last visual downloading adventure blew my allowance to shreds).
7. The memory of yesterday's Jan Brown opening. Not only was it delightful to see Jan get her dues, complete with speeches, flowers and general all-round adoration, and equally delightful to see a lot of people I haven't caught up with in ages, but I was tickled pink to discover that I was represented in the exhibition in a few ways -- my Transmigration volume is there (open at my least favorite page spread, unfortunately), and also the Icarus volume that I helped produce (by printing both the text and images. It's in the bottom righthand corner of this page), and I'm also the subject of about three life drawings! I modelled for Jan for many years, up to and including when I was pregnant with Bumblebee. Jan gave me the pregnancy drawings, but it was fun to see some of the others up on the gallery walls.
I *highly recommend* this show. It's elegant, spacious and breathtaking. Jan's work is beautifully presented, as is her due as one of Canberra's most community-spirited and well-loved artists.
2. Walking Bumblebee across the Lyneham ovals for his tennis make-up lesson, enjoying the cool morning and thanking the universe that he doesn't play regular and randomly time-tabled weekend sport like all the poor buggers who were playing netball and footy nearby.
3. Going to see the latest Indiana Jones movie with Bumblebee and thoroughly enjoying the many in-jokes that he wasn't getting due to lack of age and experience.
4. Taking Bumblebee to a local sushi cafe and using the little sushi conveyor belt for his first time.
5. Spending the rest of the afternoon guillotining paper until my arm nearly fell off, then arriving home to find Best Beloved preparing a roast chook (with lemon and herbs under the skin) for tea.
6. Having BB show me what looked like a fans-only nostalgia trip on YouTube about Mike Willesee mocking Dr Who fans for flocking to interview the director (circa 1984), a clip which dragged on and on until suddenly BB froze it and pointed out himself in the front row.
he made sure to tell me that Jeannie Little was just out of camera shot. This is one of his major memories of the occasion. I'm sure he thought she was a character in full costume or something.
Heh. My lovely nerd-in-training, complete, if you'll note, with looooong Dr Who scarf. Now that he's grown, he's passing on the costuming bug to Bumblebee (not that he's EVER needed encouragement), who has been cultivating his David Tennant look, wearing a black duffel coat with white gym boots and striking poses with the only BFG I will let him have (one of those highly coloured plastic supersoaker thingies), and more often a weird lego thingy that is the sonic screwdriver. We are a Doctor-loving household, and now that BB has the hots for The Catherine Tate Show, I'm sure we'll be glued to the next Dr Who series (I'm resisting -- very hard -- the temptation to download it, because my last visual downloading adventure blew my allowance to shreds).
7. The memory of yesterday's Jan Brown opening. Not only was it delightful to see Jan get her dues, complete with speeches, flowers and general all-round adoration, and equally delightful to see a lot of people I haven't caught up with in ages, but I was tickled pink to discover that I was represented in the exhibition in a few ways -- my Transmigration volume is there (open at my least favorite page spread, unfortunately), and also the Icarus volume that I helped produce (by printing both the text and images. It's in the bottom righthand corner of this page), and I'm also the subject of about three life drawings! I modelled for Jan for many years, up to and including when I was pregnant with Bumblebee. Jan gave me the pregnancy drawings, but it was fun to see some of the others up on the gallery walls.
I *highly recommend* this show. It's elegant, spacious and breathtaking. Jan's work is beautifully presented, as is her due as one of Canberra's most community-spirited and well-loved artists.
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