Best Beloved has long been a keen collector of stories about cults, conspiracies and gullibility. His bookshelves are full of people seeking truth and uncovering lies; my bookshelves are full of people dreaming up stories that push the boundaries of reality and normality -- it pretty much sums up the complete opposites of our personalities.
Last night Media Watch had a segment about Channel Nine's screening of Peter Popoff* and his Miracle Water scam. BB was ecstatic in rediscovering one of his old obsessions. I can't wipe the smile off his face, and first thing this morning he sent me this:
It's pretty amazing, and while BB finds it hilarious, I find it poignant. So much faith, so much hope, and you know they're all just going to go home and find that nothing has changed, they're just a bit more tired and have a badly bruised forehead. And that man, wiping the tears from his eyes! Sigh.
I do like the bit where his wife says 'Can you hear me? If you can't you'll be in trouble...' It blows the top off everything, if only because the playful glee in her voice shows how irreverently they think of their 'business'.
And now he's doing it again. Unbelieveable.
* Popoff is, of course, a delightfully Dahl-ish name for such a scammer. I always laugh extra hard because when Bumblebee was in family daycare, I mentioned one day that he had eaten a lot of lentils, and might fart a bit. His carer pursed her lips prissily and said 'we don't use that word here, dear. We prefer POP-OFF'. Gawd, I laughed like a drain, all the way to work.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Sunday, April 26, 2009
I'm in a bad mood (parp parp parp), I'm feeling low, ow ow ow...
Happiness is finding that a double album of The Lighthouse Keepers is available on e-music.
Sadness is discovering this immediately after using up all my downloads for the month.
They are the soundtrack for a huge bittersweet and multi-coloured chunk of my young adult years. I managed to download Springtime and Bad Mood, that'll have to do for now. I often play them on vinyl anyway, but the thought of carrying them around on my ipod is just too delicious for words.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Leeping over sheep
I make good typos when commenting on people's blogs. I mean, no typo is a GOOD typo, but when they're typos that you can't go in and correct without starting a whole new comment, you might as well make the best of it. I've decided not to go GAH with rage anymore, but to adopt a TimT attitude and play with the mistake. see TimT? You have become a role model, with very little effort on your behalf. (That link to Tim, it makes me snort so hard I scare the cats. Repeatedly.)
I did a beauty at Penthe's blog the other day, and have been thinking about it ever since. I missed the 's' in 'sleeping' and decided that
Children, as was the context of that comment, are masters in the art of leeping. Haven't we all had those days when a child (sometimes not your own, one that you're babysitting maybe? Let's be inclusive) is utterly naughty and brat-like, then they go to sleep and look so utterly charming that you forgive them everything and actually look forward to seeing them awake the next day?
I'd like to think that people never grow out of leeping. Obviously some people do, like Hitler and Pol Pot, but isn't every night a chance to reprogram the brain and start the next day fresh? Oh gawd, I'm being overly Pollyanna-ish now. Sorry. But the idea really appeals to me. It's akin to the body healing while you're asleep. I always daydream about the outside of the body shutting down for the night, but all the busy little interior beings waking up for a big night of spit & polish, or manic fat generation. Sigh. Wake up Duckie, time to go make dinner...
I did a beauty at Penthe's blog the other day, and have been thinking about it ever since. I missed the 's' in 'sleeping' and decided that
LEEPing is the reassertion of innocence after a particularly naughty day.
Children, as was the context of that comment, are masters in the art of leeping. Haven't we all had those days when a child (sometimes not your own, one that you're babysitting maybe? Let's be inclusive) is utterly naughty and brat-like, then they go to sleep and look so utterly charming that you forgive them everything and actually look forward to seeing them awake the next day?
I'd like to think that people never grow out of leeping. Obviously some people do, like Hitler and Pol Pot, but isn't every night a chance to reprogram the brain and start the next day fresh? Oh gawd, I'm being overly Pollyanna-ish now. Sorry. But the idea really appeals to me. It's akin to the body healing while you're asleep. I always daydream about the outside of the body shutting down for the night, but all the busy little interior beings waking up for a big night of spit & polish, or manic fat generation. Sigh. Wake up Duckie, time to go make dinner...
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Dog of a Show with a Cheshire Cat grin
Megalo, our local gem of a print access studio, is having a lovely little show about dogs at the moment, called Dog of a Show. I went to the opening tonight. I also have a piece in the show. It won third prize. I didn't even know it was a show with prizes! I just thought it was a member's show to raise money for a new press. I came away with a voucher for $50 worth of paper or printmaking materials. I am very happy. I am also gobsmacked. I don't win prizes very often.
I can't show you the piece because I didn't take any photos of it (I finished it JUST before I headed down to Bega, and had to rush it to the Gallery). But I can describe it. I wanted to do something about a cat, just to be contrary. But I thought it would be wrong just to have a cat, so I thought about a dog to go with the cat. And then I thought about cats and dogs for a while. I thought it would be fun to do a linocut of a cat and a dog. So I got a photo of Lucky, the dog we used to own but now belongs to Colonel Duck, and a photo of Mr Padge the cat. Lucky was standing with his back to the camera, and all you can see is his tail, three legs, and his little black bumhole. I cut him out in Photoshop, and made the background black. He's a very white dog, so the contrast was fab. Then I cut Padge out of his photo (he looks rather alarmed, as if he's seen a dog) and put him against a white background. Being a black cat, the contrast was fab. I printed them out, and used them as the basis for drawing up the linocut.
It was a simple idea, white dog on black, black cat on white. But by the time I finished cutting the lino, I just wasn't happy. it just wasn't doing it for me. I still liked the idea, the medium just wasn't right. So I decided to do something else. I ended up drawing Lucky on some stiff black scraperboard (you scrape the black away with a blade, and you get a result much like a wood engraving), and manipulating Padge on screen to make him a bit spooky, then printing him using my inkjet printer onto some white tissue (you have to be careful to stick-tape the tissue to normal bond paper, otherwise it clogs up the printer). Then I stuck one to the other and entered it like that. I called it 'Dichatomy', as a little pun on 'dichotomy' and the French word 'chat' for 'cat'.
And it won a prize! I'm chuffed. Can you tell? There's a lot of really good work in the show, which is why, when I realised they were handing out prizes, it didn't cross my mind that I would get anything. I'm still giggling at inappropriate moments and turning red.
I hope some of you locals go to see the show. Thank you to the staff at Megalo, who work really hard, and thank you to Helen Maxwell, who showed excellent taste as a judge -- I liked her pick of Best in Show, who was Karin Maier. My pick of the show, though, was Katharine Nix's dog sculptures, which you can see if you click the exhibition link above.
I can't show you the piece because I didn't take any photos of it (I finished it JUST before I headed down to Bega, and had to rush it to the Gallery). But I can describe it. I wanted to do something about a cat, just to be contrary. But I thought it would be wrong just to have a cat, so I thought about a dog to go with the cat. And then I thought about cats and dogs for a while. I thought it would be fun to do a linocut of a cat and a dog. So I got a photo of Lucky, the dog we used to own but now belongs to Colonel Duck, and a photo of Mr Padge the cat. Lucky was standing with his back to the camera, and all you can see is his tail, three legs, and his little black bumhole. I cut him out in Photoshop, and made the background black. He's a very white dog, so the contrast was fab. Then I cut Padge out of his photo (he looks rather alarmed, as if he's seen a dog) and put him against a white background. Being a black cat, the contrast was fab. I printed them out, and used them as the basis for drawing up the linocut.
It was a simple idea, white dog on black, black cat on white. But by the time I finished cutting the lino, I just wasn't happy. it just wasn't doing it for me. I still liked the idea, the medium just wasn't right. So I decided to do something else. I ended up drawing Lucky on some stiff black scraperboard (you scrape the black away with a blade, and you get a result much like a wood engraving), and manipulating Padge on screen to make him a bit spooky, then printing him using my inkjet printer onto some white tissue (you have to be careful to stick-tape the tissue to normal bond paper, otherwise it clogs up the printer). Then I stuck one to the other and entered it like that. I called it 'Dichatomy', as a little pun on 'dichotomy' and the French word 'chat' for 'cat'.
And it won a prize! I'm chuffed. Can you tell? There's a lot of really good work in the show, which is why, when I realised they were handing out prizes, it didn't cross my mind that I would get anything. I'm still giggling at inappropriate moments and turning red.
I hope some of you locals go to see the show. Thank you to the staff at Megalo, who work really hard, and thank you to Helen Maxwell, who showed excellent taste as a judge -- I liked her pick of Best in Show, who was Karin Maier. My pick of the show, though, was Katharine Nix's dog sculptures, which you can see if you click the exhibition link above.
Poster printing
OMG they cut their own letters. Love it.
Via the letterpress listserver. If you're interested in letterpress, it's worth joining.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
momigami is not a kitty name
Momigami paper is paper, preferably handmade, that has been coated in tapioca starch and dried, and then painstakingly scrunched by hand (or other methods if the sheets are large) until the sheet feels like soft chamois and can be used like cloth. It is very strong. The Japanese aristocracy used to have clothes made from it. I have gorgeous A4 sheets of cream handmade rag paper that I made it when I was a student and we still had a papermaking studio at the art school, and they're in various states of scrunch. It's very beautiful stuff, I'm really enjoying working with it.
If you make your own paper, here's a momigami recipe:
1. Put 1 cup water to 1 dessertspoon tapioca starch powder in a double boiler.
2. Stir while heating gently. Stir until clear; the consistency should be that of light cream.
3. Apply to both sides of your (preferably handmade) paper with a sponge.
4. Crumple paper well, then flatten and let dry.
5. Sit in front of the tv or radio and scrunch the paper again to soften it. The longer you scrunch, the softer the paper will be.
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