But then I might…

SydNotLookingWatercolourWeb

Another quick insomnia fuelled not-looking-at-page drawing. Can you guess who it is? (  and no, it’s not me, even though we appear to be hair twins. The title is a small clue. As is the fact that his name is in the tags ).

I feel the need to again add the disclaimer that only the initial biro sketch is done without looking at the page. When it comes time to add colour, I’m eyeballing like nobody’s business.

*biro, watercolour pencils, watercolour paper*

Insomnia self-portrait with bed hair and falling-off mouth (with bonus demon not worth facing)

notlookingmeagainBedHairMou

*black biro ( not looking) and watercolour pencils ( looking)*

I can’t complain about not sleeping tonight, as I had a great sleep last night. Also had a fantastic dream that as I lay in bed, a garden of sumptuous, jewel coloured satin and velvet flowers began growing upon the ceiling. The flowers looked like butterfly wings under a scanning electron miscroscope, but much bigger, and as I watched, they began growing faster and faster- extending down the walls in glorious stained-glass-vivid vines. It was so beautiful that I felt I must get out of bed and show someone. But then the thought crossed my mind that the flowers- now growing at quite a pace- might grow over the doorway- locking me out if I left….. or, alternatively- if I stayed- trapping me within this  butterflyflower garden all by myself, with nobody to share it with. As I had this thought, some large ants, (which were running for cover from the flowers) trickled down the wall, and to my horror, one jumped into my bed. I woke up brushing invisible ants off me.

 

Darling$ ( to be read in a piratey voice)

wow2nd

The above group of wordsicles came about thanks to this fun little thing Black Cat Alley has going. It’s called Whiteout Wednesdays ( or W.O.W.) and is basically the same dealy as a blackout poem, but instead of taking a black marker to the block of text to leave behind a previously hidden poem, you copy and paste that week’s assigned block o’text into your wordpress draft, and white-out the unneeded words using the ‘text colour’ feature. You can then reformat the words so that they’re more readable (but NOT rearrange/add words or punctation) , OR leave them all spaced out and strung out ( like I did.). This week’s text up for your literary obliteration/ creation is here. I do hope that you DOOOO EEEEET! ‘Cause it’s lotsa fun.

It’s raining agate slices again…

Typical.rainingagate

I didn’t look at the page until it was time to add colour. Today is a day of head hurtiness and scribbles.

P.s. I do wish a happy holidaisies upon everybody ( if you do indeed get a holidaisy), and a merry new near and things. To be honest, this is not my favourite time of year..not just because of the financial stress and pressure associated with being expected to be chri$tmassy, but because for us poor southern hemispherians, it’s combined with summer- my least favourite season. Ugh. But it ends eventually, as does everything. So that’s good.

Anyhoo, thanks to the teeny handful of people who have taken even the slightest interest in the things I have written, drawn, and said over this year- my first year as a WordPressington. I’m not sure how long it’s supposed to take for more than 3 people to give a shit about stuff you do on the on The Internet ( or in general) , but I’ll give it a wee bit longer before I give up entirely.

Having said that, I do vow to focus less on internet matters next year, and more on getting over my phobia of 3-dimensional people. There is both a theatre and an Arts Society a stone’s throw away from my new place, so I really have no excuse not to get involved. (Maybe I could just go in a disguise? ).

Anyhoo. Avvagoodun. ♥

Drink & blog #1 Things and stuff and crap

GoodnightHello!

So. I don’t have to be anywhere tomorrow, and my kidly is having a pre- chri$tmas fun minibreak with her Dad.  Conditions are ripe for a drinksies. I was going to watch a DVD, but for some reason I thought it a better idea to blog. So here we go:

Firstly, let me say that getting shitfaced isn’t my aim. That wouldn’t be amazing for my health. Or yours. ( espesh if you read this).  But if i do happen to get shitfaced, then I won’t be stopping me.  Anyway, I’m only on my 8th 3rd brandy .  What better time to do a “not-looking-at-page” drawing than now!

P.s. I just ate a piece of smoked cheddar off the carpet. (Five minute rule!)

You have to guess who this picture is. Of. Here:

Here:

notlookingsherlock

( I coloured it with looking  ie my eyes, but only the coloured bits)

I bet you’ll think it’s The Mad Hatter.

Anyway. A few brandies have elapsed. How fucking cool are top hats??? Please, someone cooler than me please make them fashionable again.  I have one. I had a bigger head at the time I got it, due to my massive hair .  Without sounding too vain, I looked fucking great in mine. But now that I wear my hair short, my head is less voluminous, so my top hat falls over my eyes. I don’t know what to do. Maybe I could cut eyeholes in it. That’d be sexy.

Obscurity is three-masted*

When I was studying to become an Art School drop-out, I discovered , one fateful day in the University library, a Surrealist Games kit. Intrigued, and already determined to begin  procrastinating on the essay we’d just been set, I borrowed it immediately.

From that day, I was hooked. Over the coming months, I seized every opportunity to coerce my fellow student friends into sitting around a table with me to partake of surrealist writing games (and the obligatory cheap booze).

Eventually I succeeded in becoming an Art School drop-out, but my obsession with the role of chance as an aid to the creative process has endured. ( as has my love of procrastination, but that’s another post for another time; I’ll get around to it at some stage.. )

Whether it be imaginary definitions, cut-up poetry technique, or the joys of google translate’s epic sentence mangling capabilities, my  enthusiasm for literary lottery borders on creepy. My fridge is covered in magnetic prose. My “dining” table is cluttered with notebooks and  Surreal Sentence Generators- in the form of homemade card games, cardboard  word wheels with badly attached spinners, and little bags full of cut-out words. Mixed in are my daughter’s drawings, which aptly cover subjects such as bee vomit, Olympic cubes, and chickens selling hand cream.

So I thought it was about time to incorporate more of that sort of thing into my blawg. I’ve been self censoring too much; trying to be too linear  and relatable in my bloggage, and it’s just not working . For my own sanity, I need this place to be less of a “how do I  WordPress properly” affair , and more of the uninhibited outlet it was originally intended to be. In short: things are gonna have to get weirder.

And with that, I’ll leave you now with some freshly frankensteined  cut-up poetry I done didded the other day.

(For those of you unfamiliar with the cut-up technique, here’s the basic idea: Take a block of text, such as a magazine article, or page of a book. Cut out every word of said text, and place them in a small bag or container of some sort. Shake them up. Remove words one by one, writing each down- or gluing them onto the page, as I did- in the order they come out. This forms your “poem”.)

Disclaimer: Admittedly, I did cheat a little by eliminating/ ignoring the more aesthetically boring, grammatically confusing combinations, such as: ” he which and are they  a were then as with”. But other than that, the direction of this poem was entirely dictated by the element of Chance. The original Surrealist idea is that whatever comes out is a representation of things hidden in your subconscious mind. Whilst the main attraction for me is the non-linear, twisty word rainbow of it all, I dig this Deep Darque Secret Mind Exploration idea in a Jungian way. Given that- and the fact that the text I used came from a randomly chosen page of a book I was reading months ago- I was amused and  a bit spooked  by the results!

 

cutup3-forweb

 

NotlookingatpagePoetsWeb

 

Above: Bonus ‘Not-Looking-At-Page’ drawing. “Poets hand Love hints in the dark”. Inspired by the last line. I wanted to draw Shakespeare ( for some reason. Do I need a reason?) , but then changed my mind and did a picture of Rowan Atkinson  as Lord Blackadder in Blackadder 2 instead.   

Conclusions:

It seems to be about ugly revelations, or hipsters with sailor tatts voting with irony for a laugh. Or about Art and love being a guiding light in darque thymes. Or about how Art perhaps inspires Love just as much as Love inspires art.

It’s stupidly deep and deeply stupid.

Bonus bonus: If anybody can correctly guess which famous novel I photocopied a page of and dismembered for this exercise, you will be correct in your guess.

YOU HAVE NOW REACHED THE LACY HEM OF THIS FULL LENGTH POST.

(the next one will be more of a mini, I promise)

*like a sparkling potato