29 September 2011
12 September 2011
Homme-age
Allow me this entirely adolescent indulgence- a pictorial display of men who are, in my view, the most fine-looking beings in existence. I’ve been told by my boyfriend, mother and best friend that I have a very specific taste in men. I don’t know if this makes me very predictable or terribly difficult to please in the sense that I know precisely what I like but, in so knowing, I like about 0.05% of the male population. I do admit that there is some sort of uniformity in these men’s appearances (apart from the obvious facial hair). Gael Garcia Bernal, Farryl Purkiss and Emile Hirsch are beyond doubt, the most beautiful men I’ve seen. Following in short suit are Ryan Gosling and Yesterday’s Pupil. Jim Sturgess, while not typically my type and atypical to the rest of the aforementioned, has to be included for his raw charisma and offbeat sex appeal. I know these types of lists are dreadfully infantile but they do give me an immense sense of satisfaction- like I've cleaned up a messy drawer in my head.
07 September 2011
Between two lungs it was released
Olympic Airways- Foals
Suns up we wait
all day
Suns up we wait
all day all day
the hell outsides kept away
if only we could move away
from here
This is how
we build a place
an aviary for today
an aviary for today
let's disappear till tomorrow
let's disappear till tomorrow
dis-a-ppe-ar
dis-a-ppe-ar
dis-a-ppe-ar ar ar ar
blow up these play parades
let's go
to an aviary far from home
to an aviary far from home
a one hand clap is me and you
and you and you and you
while the hell outsides kept away
if only we moved away
dis-a-ppe-ar
dis-a-ppe-ar
dis-a-ppe-ar ar ar ar
last vacation was the same
we got moved away
last vacation was the same
we got moved away
last vacation was the same
we got moved away
sun down now we have built
our place
an aviary forever
an aviary forever
forever forever
re-a-ppe-ar
re-a-ppe-ar
re-a-ppe-ar
re-a-ppe-ar
all day
Suns up we wait
all day all day
the hell outsides kept away
if only we could move away
from here
This is how
we build a place
an aviary for today
an aviary for today
let's disappear till tomorrow
let's disappear till tomorrow
dis-a-ppe-ar
dis-a-ppe-ar
dis-a-ppe-ar ar ar ar
blow up these play parades
let's go
to an aviary far from home
to an aviary far from home
a one hand clap is me and you
and you and you and you
while the hell outsides kept away
if only we moved away
dis-a-ppe-ar
dis-a-ppe-ar
dis-a-ppe-ar ar ar ar
last vacation was the same
we got moved away
last vacation was the same
we got moved away
last vacation was the same
we got moved away
sun down now we have built
our place
an aviary forever
an aviary forever
forever forever
re-a-ppe-ar
re-a-ppe-ar
re-a-ppe-ar
re-a-ppe-ar
04 September 2011
Mystery Goes Bust Tour
Ric and I went on a date this weekend on the Mystery Ghost Bust Tour. The Tour takes you on a five hour coach trip through Jo’burg’s “most haunted” sights- amongst others, the Mormon Temple, Mike’s Kitchen, the Fort at Constitutional Hill and Kensington Castle. The Tour ultimately culminates in a midnight walk through Braamfontein cemetery. The night in summary? An epic fail. Capital E. The downside of going on a coach tour is that you can’t take any measures to limit the risk of your exposure to complete assholes. As someone who is a self-proclaimed (and self-diagnosed) agoraphobic, as well as a serious hard-ass since I’ve started to practice law, the lion’s share of the night was spent by Ric trying to interrupt my rage-induced tunnel vision of three barely legal, foul-mouthed, drunken, ignorant, farting, private-school jocks. I actually struck up an awesome conversation with a very nice grandpa and grandma about how we might go about killing these boys- it seemed we were kindred souls. Apart from the jocks, the tour itself was a disappointment insofar as it involved a lot of driving and very little sight-seeing or elucidation by the tour-guide. I do however admit that some of the disappointment was due to the fact that Jo’burg is such a hard and gritty town. For example, we stopped off at Zoo Lake to conduct some form of electromagnetic conduit experiment, only to be deafened by inebriated crowds and drag-racing 100 meters away. We stopped to have dinner at the Troyeville Hotel (awesomely kitsch and a highlight to the night) only to be harassed by stoned thugs. Thank fuck for Ric’s company which, at the end of the day (literally), made the comedy of errors a worthwhile (if not repeatable) experience. The other highlight of the Tour was the midnight walk through Braamfontein cemetery. The dead are surprisingly good company and it was really special to be there after-hours. It wasn’t long before I managed to calm-down, enjoy the moment, and stop eyeing the jocks like a rabid skunk. The guide also came alive, so-to- speak, by giving us an historical overview of the place and the people buried there. Although it lost any semblance of a ghost tour, it was really edifying. I would not do the Tour again and I definitely do not recommend it, but it was useful to the extent that it pointed out really awesome places in Jo’burg where Ric and I do want to go and explore at our own pace and without the company of philistines.
| Bright-eyed and amped |
| Mike's Kitchen in Parktown |
| Godzilla at Constitutional Hill |
| Always read the small print |
| Troyeville Hotel |
| Bleary-eyed and over it |
Spring
So, Ric and I (and the hairy daughters) have finally settled into our new place. Granted it’s a stone’s throw away from my parents, but nonetheless, I love this new chapter in my life and in our relationship. Truth be told, we really lucked-out in getting this place. I cringe to think what living in an apartment or complex would have been like now that we have all this space to ourselves and the hairy fairies. Although there is still a lot we want to do with the house (we’re trying not to bankrupt ourselves in the process) it has come together better than I could ever have hoped for. I’m such a homebody and this house has become my sanctuary. I saw a leaflet the other day the title of which was “get away at home” and that’s precisely the wish I have for our house- for it to be a place where the volume of life is turned down. I dare say, moving-in together was the best thing we could ever have done for our relationship *breathes a sigh of relief*…
02 September 2011
31 August 2011
Courtesy of Canadia
I recently purchased a print from an online gallery, the warehouse of which is situated in Canada. The site is called Mammoth Collection and houses a variety of really great prints which are made in-house using archival pigment inks on heavyweight 100% cotton fibre archival paper. Each print is numbered by hand and comes with the artist's signature printed in the border. My first purchase arrived in the mail just over a week from the date of ordering it and I was super excited to receice my certificate of authenticity with the piece. The only bummer is that while the prices are so reasonable, you can expect the cost of postage to be equal to, if not more than, the cost price of the art itself.
Daniel by Jason Fiske
Golucho
Golucho has to be one of my favourite (recently discovered) artists. I'm about to start painting again and his works epitomise my aspirant style, medium and subject matter. I particularly love the fact that he doesn't waste time on backgrounds and that he is not at all precious about defacing his work(sort of like taking a pen to a crisp new book). The superrealism of his subjects combined with his bold use of colour fascinates me. Another interesting aspect is how his stark use of colour and line/stroke tends to give an eerie temparement to the overall mood of the piece.
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