Tuesday, 11 June 2013

It's raining in my head

The last week has been fun/interesting/stressful. Last thursday night was the Pennies reunion at Laundry Bar, we all went crazy and spent much of the night in lane ways/pizzashops/driving trollys/putting milkcrates on our heads. It was fun. On friday night there was a party at Burhouse - Bill had his projector there with all these trippy coourful goodvibes stuff playing on the wall in the couryard, and he and James built a fort the occupied an entire room, it was sick. On Saturday night, Jack and I stayed up till 5am watch Neon Genesis Evangelion which is an amazing anime made in 1995 and is just incredible, it's creator Hideaki Anno is a genius. Evangelion addresses so many psychological issues, as well as incorporating quantum physics and many scientific theories, much of the plot based on the many worlds theory. Throughout the series the underlying philosophic discourse questions the purpose of mankind, and brings to light so many of our flaws - ultimately our self destructive nature. It's amazing pls watch. 

This is a monologue from episode 12, you don't have to understand the plot/characters to appreciate this, it's just beautiful. 

Yesterday my folio for Creative non-fiction was due, I had to write three pieces totalling 4000 words. I wrote a piece about my time in India, a music review, and a letter style memoir. I think they were good. 

Last night Jack had a Gig at the Brunswick hotel, his friends Jess and Calum opened the night with their first live performance and I thought they were great. It was a really great night actually. Jack didn't think so but he's so self critical, there was actually a lot of good feedback from the audience and the sound technician. When we got home, I sat on the couch with Belinda drinking wine and smoking and she told me stories of her days as a dancer and a director, and directing dance movies, and she showed me photos and it was nice. 

This is a series of Haikus I wrote for uni. I concluded my folio with this, the poem above ^ was the first. The collection tells a story; the first being the meeting, then exploring the relationship, the destruction of it, the trauma of loss, and the rebirth of becoming an independent individual again - relearning to be alone.

i take baby steps
as i learn to breathe again
independence calls.

lost in my own words
i try to speak but then
my voice trips and falls.

‘it’s hard at the start’
they tell me as i contemplate
how to sleep alone.

‘time will mend your heart’
i try to turn this empty
house into a home.

Tuesday, 4 June 2013


So I made an account - www.society6.com/kittychrystal

It seems a lot harder then I originally (naively) thought, i.e you have to have hundreds of followers for your work to come up on even the first 10 pages of the site's art listing, also each piece you post has to have over 5 'likes' before it can even be bought. Oh well it's still good exposure.. Me and Seb have been joking how we're just not 'marketable' to the public - and although we like our own art, it's probably not the stuff people want to buy to have on their bedroom walls or whatever. Then I started trying to paint something that more suited the 'popular' tastes, and then decided that was really stupid and there was no point creating anything if it's just to suit other people's concepts of good art and not my own. 

Last night, before I went to La Mama, me and Seb undertook an epic journey just to get to an art gallery opening in Collingwood. Epic because we missed our train, then got off at the wrong stop, waited for about 20 minutes for a cab to finally stop for us - and then half way there (when we finally got in a cab) we realised the opening was in fact not until tonight. So we went and had dinner at Viet Rose on brunswick street which was delicious and so good and we felt so much better about everything, and I bought a biography on Vladmir Nabokov's wife, and I told Seb how I'd love to write a biography on someone. It's sort of my dream, to travel and research the lives and works of my favourite writers and write some sort of new journalism/immersion/creative non-fiction piece. And Seb said he'd like to write his own autobiography, but he didn't think anyone would read it, because he's not famous. And I said that if he wrote it well and in his own style and enjoyed doing it, then he should do it regardless of whether it's 'marketable' or not. And that concludes my moral advice on the dilemma of art for the sake of the consumer. Here's a better quality pic of my wood nymph;

Monday, 3 June 2013

Retina Galaxy

Tonight I went to a poetry reading at La Mama. It was great, I went with Kassie (myhousemate/bestfriend/sisterthatineverhad) and we are both now awe-struck fan girls of Tom Joyce. His voice was soft and his words were fluid like rain, his poems unfolded like a story that had everyone in the audience entranced. We both felt so inspired and I came home and wrote some more poetry myself, fixing things up for my poetry folio I'll be handing in next week for Uni. It's probably the only subject I'm not stressed about because I've actually got everything pretty much together.. Here's something I wrote have a gander have a read;

Things become very different over time.
Whose head once seemed like a universe,
a world under your eyelids,
who are you who’s in there, inside that mind of yours?
back then - when - your eyes lost focus and you
stared at that middle point in gravity
thinking thoughts, I thought ‘what are they?’
and now,
I know the story behind each rip in your jeans,
and the bruise on your knee
and the scar on your arm
and where you got that poster
and why you don’t like beetroot
and who your old friends are
how you hate them now
you used to think I liked cats
that I only liked girls
that I was overconfident overexcited overrated
and now                 you know               that when you ask me for a sip
of my diet coke and I say
'yeah okay' in that voice that I actually
mean no I want it for myself sorry.
and now                 you know
that I’m selfish and I’m bored
and now               I know
that you’re controlling and a pervert
                  but then I’ll read something you wrote
a poem a lyric a line a sentence and I think-
where did this come from?
behind those eyelids
that retina galaxy – and I think-
your head is still a world
                  I’ve yet to comprehend.