shadow puppets...

i killed my dinner
with karate
kick him in the face
taste the body...
is the work that i do.
- johanna newsom

i had a lovely weekend, draining me of all anxiety,
filling me with music and food.
bar-be-cues and bodies.
lorelei made a pavlova. i made a plethora of salads with romy,
and we sat and ate, all 30 of us.
boys ran the barbecue, isnt it funny that they crowd around,
and watch, watch for the right time to turn, and nudge, with long silvery fingers.

the highlight of the evening was the puppet show.
we found that on the three story blank white wall next door,
our apartment on the first floor (there are only two) has a window from romy's bedroom that shines directly and enlarges shadows.
so there were skits with bananas and knives and all the comical and dark things that being drunk and woosey in the night time on a sunday brings.

im almost finished my book too,
'the cure for death by lightening'
by Gail Anderson-Dargatz

i love finishing books.

i started uni this week, which means time to knuckle down,
and work, and build tiny buildings. models. people love things that are small and fantastical. its such a hard thing to grasp through just drawings.

post some photos before you know it...


to be suure...

its been a while I know…
things are looking up…

after spending last weekend at the beach, and the hot weather un-folding this week, its like the summer is squeezing out its last drops for us.

the dandelion fluff is floating through the air, lolling about, unleashed by the sunny disposition of the city, even up here it floats past the window, a desert in the air.

im looking forward to the weekend, lots of dancing, lots of lovin’ and taking advantage of my ‘last weekend of freedom’… school starts next week. then the bell will toll, life will combust and ill be groping for sleep once again.

ive been a bit scared to write this week, i had a few “so you’ve got two blog’s now…?” comments last week, id like to think that no one reads it and it just exists, but I know that there are people secretly reading it here and there.

So im heading to the ol’ colonial tonight, and it just so happens that I have a sore eye, so I might have to go as a pirate and wear a goddam patch… and dance the night away to woman and tits…

to be sure. aahhh harrr.

coalface everyone, everyone meet coalface...

meet coal face:

recently divorced
11 months old
fur slightly scuffed and discoloured from urine attack
very cute when cleaning face
eats carrots but only when no-one is looking 'cause he's woried aboutbeing a cliche`
good friends with slippery the snake (sssssssssssssssss)
enjoys long walks in the grass
dislikes being compared to his cousin 'the white rabbit' as it makes him feel in-adequate for not having a pocket watch, and he is never late

Last evening upon a patio
There stood some girls,
Brightly dressed in heels and yellow,
Blue and cream.
Red lipstick.

The crowd was slightly inadequate…
Slightly lax
So they diverted their attention to a pink giraffe

Flying high on the roof tops of Fitz-royalty
His hoofs shone transparent with magic
And his nose glistened in the afternoon sun

Turning their heads from his lime boat
He disappeared, saddle gone
limbs leaving prints in the juice

Alas he has joined them
Giving pink light to a crowd of inanimate beige creatures…

you move me

I cleaned my desk yesterday. Therefore, the view is a little more composed, a little more comfortable from where I am sitting today.

Out the window I see the roof network that lines Bourke St. Air Conditioning Ducts snake over (reminds me of slippery – the snake that lives downstairs) and on to other buildings, fire escapes and lift core boxes stack up, satellites, aerials, flagpoles…

Another world, un-inhabited…but for birds, window washers and the odd little man.

Sometimes there is a chair or two, a bit of astro-turf, but its rare to see the people that use them, that put them there.

It’s a grey day.

I wish I wasn’t staring at empty rooftop chairs, I wish I wasn’t sleeping on couch cushions still.

*winces eyes and hopes to be teleported to perhaps Spain. Yes Spain… in the middle of the night, with dancing ladies and swivelling hips*


Today I feel like I have a slight bruise somewhere but I can’t find it...
I’m still sad, resembling the nectarine I’m determined to finish eating though its skin is soft and its middle is hard, and the sweetness is gone.

* * *

Last night I slept on three disfigured and mismatched couch cushions. I slept straight and long (not my usual style) and with both hands by my side, so as not to let my skin scratch on the carpet. I’m warming to my new room, which I never thought possible, as I am so warm to it already, and have slept with my head to the north, east and west… I liked east the best, I wonder if that is allowed in the lore of feng shui.

(Once I worked on a project where there was a feng shui consultant (master), it was the most un-relenting and hardest things to negotiate… sectors, numbers, brass and water. Completely dependent on the individual and what numbers were in what sectors, not just a flower here and a couch there.)

* * *
so… the view… deliriously sunny, the flag on the I&G building (Collins st) is blustering and flapping like the lady that ran for the tram this morning, tapping and waving through the doors at victoria st, and I reckon the heat will be blistering outside.

When I sat down earlier there were single feathers gliding through the air, 11 floors high, perhaps a bird died somewhere.

* * *
the pip lies on the desk
Everything sounds so dramatic when you write it down.
I think I need a honey joy…

roaring success...

i had my first garage sale on saturday,
it was surprisingly easy and much fun.
we had all necessary items to get us through the day,
and finished with a swim. followed by preparations for a
trip to the animal kingdom on saturday night.
a good saturday...
aaannnd im allowed to have coalface at my new abode!
stay posted for construction photos of his palatial hutch.

adventures of a little old christian

Last night I sang.
I sang like a goddam stewardess who is on her first flight as cabin crew manager and spittles into her microphone, while it creaks and breathes.

I drank; I drank a load of plum wine and was very pleased that it was ever thought of.

We sang karaoke, with bad videos that made me want to spew- with nineties camel toes, with ugly models who perpetually touched themselves, with couples splashing in fountains and smelling roses, with loads of old white people wandering around aimlessly in gardens and on beaches.

(Highlights of the night include moaning to; Everybody- Backstreet Boys, Satisfaction- Rolling Stones, Sweet Caroline – Neil Diamond, Get It ON- Trex, and watching my friends try to reach the high notes of Sweet Child o mine)

Hooray for large displays of extravagant attention seeking therapy, and drunken exploits.


They were filming a Stephen King film in Princes Park this morning, and as I was waiting for the tram I saw them carefully and tediously place large bunches of lichen-ey brownish hair on the bridge. Very interesting… I’m not a reader of Mr King’s work but I wouldn’t mind imagining what creature will lurk from the depths in the night…


Sometimes when I’m drawing (that’s what I do allll day) on the computer and I am multi tasking I paste something in and it happens to be a line that I may have used in an email or whilst blog-ing. I was just drawing and I pasted in big text all over a roof plan, “ ‘ill have to be a bit more "private, sensitive...(and) anxious’ ”.


Its going to be sunny for the rest of the week and I am glad, but I am also glad that there has been some rainy solace from my hot little soul last week. As the lady who is the receptionist for the fundamental Christians that have an office downstairs said in the lift this morning, in a little short and croaky voice,

“ooo its lovely to have some cool weath-er”


the sigh comes back, it returns, from a time when the lights went out last year.

a sad day, and im sitting up almost encompassed in the dark clouds. on the top floor. it feels like they are coming in through the window and hugging me.
last night was the end. the end of january, and definately the end of a relationship.

i feel a bit sick in the stomach. you know that feeling. like you've lost your wallet, but you dont even care about the wallet, just whats inside.