Wednesday, December 30, 2009

time for...

more play

less thinking

more fun

less weight

more lightness

more dancing

(not that i dance but you know what i mean :)

more hills

more climbing

more sitting on hills

more seeing

less worry


when i die
i will miss these things


cool breezes
warm days

but death means 

no more yearning


i will not miss 



metaphysical vomit

mendacious porno

nihilistic punchline

Monday, December 28, 2009


at this time of year i think a great deal about my family
mainly though
i think about my dad
not my biological dad
but the man who raised me with my mum
we have never had a great relationship
it has been worse than it is now
but it is still not great
there are things i do not like like about my dad
these qualities often come out at this time year
there are things however that i do like about him

he is
single minded

i wish i was a bit more like him
especially at this time of year

Thursday, December 24, 2009

Wednesday, December 23, 2009



Tuesday, December 22, 2009






Sunday, December 20, 2009


all i want
is to sit
on a mountain
a person i love
watch the world



Thursday, December 17, 2009


i am soft
feeling bones today

i am long

i am blue-prints

i am setting up



in anticipation of the day
i forgive and excuse
my harbour of personal violence

Monday, December 14, 2009



The growing of the very young
is a reminder of time passing
the inevitable

Sunday, December 13, 2009

I want a black yin and yang t-shirt

on this Sunday
further comment seems pointless
for i am stuck in the past
there seems no way forward

Random self-portrait off Youtube

Thursday, December 10, 2009

stale bread

i never want
to be sober again

i want
to kill everything


Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Naked on a bed, covered in wine

i think what i miss most about being close to someone
is the possibility of collapsing
that gulf that exists between everyone
all of the time
being with someone physically
wanting them and loving them
in a single action
repeated over and over
it seems to leave behind the inaccuracies
of everyday language
it is my favourite thing
i miss it

Sunday, December 6, 2009


today i get nothing from nothing today i get nothing from nothing today i get nothing 
from nothing today i get nothing from nothing today i get nothing from nothing today 
i get nothing from nothing today i get nothing from nothing today i get nothing from nothing today i get nothing from nothing 

Saturday, December 5, 2009



winter cold

frozen shelter melts


bears eat their own

Friday, December 4, 2009

Sunday, November 29, 2009


if i had a word
that if spoken
would affect the world
it would be
rooted in

Monday, November 23, 2009

Dead sunflowers in a skull

when i think
being close to someone again
i recoil
because i am still hurt
to you
i want to see you
i can't afford to see you
to even speak to you
it is your birthday this week
on Wednesday
i want to say
happy birthday
to you
if you read this


Collaborative works from a while back

MSSR vs. Christian Flynn and Brent Wilson
MSSR and 88 Moreton Street, New Farm
14 to 16 August 2009

The exhibition explores non-productive activity through the presentation of video, installation, performance and photographic artwork. The three artists have developed new work individually as well as collaboratively and will present it across two venues, MSSR and 88 Moreton Street. FLynee states 'We replaced Duchamps sense of indifferenece with a feeling less removed but still somewhat alienated. The photos document our attempt to breach that alienation. Hence the band look, but they still give room for the individual perhaps?'

Sunday, November 22, 2009

final recourse

in the heart of summer
i can see
black waters
deep and frozen
full of places to hide

from you

Friday, November 20, 2009

hi, go fuck yourself

i reek of desperation
sleeping tablets

no wonder i look like shit

Sunday, November 15, 2009


i am a cocktail
in three parts
i am a 14 hour cocktail
i am the remains of a dead love bubble
i am a slow mother fucker
you fucking slow mother fucker
slow mother fucker
slow mother fucker
the fuck

Saturday, November 14, 2009


extinguish all the light in the world

learn to see in the dark

Sunday, November 8, 2009


kill me now 
because i am a wanker

if you challenge me to a fight
i will kill you and your family


Cure venom with venom.

Restore something old.

Fall in love with that which you cannot have.

Steal only from your friends.

Remove impurities.

Eliminate glamor.

Establish correct order.

Evaluate tactics.

Marginalise your parents.

Abuse privilege.

Stock your larder.

Load all guns.

Identify enemies.

Identify non-hostiles.

Confirm your target.

Push the button.


Rhetorical questions are not a sound basis for information exchange.

Praise for attack.

BBQ an unlikely victim.

Forgive someone (not yourself) who does not deserve it.

Refuse to move with the times.

Sew doubt into solid relationships.

Safety first.

Smoke a packet of cigarettes that you would otherwise give away.

Practice safe sex.

Share needles with people you trust.

Spread the risk.

Kill someone who deserves it.

Make a scene.

Steal from those who can afford it.

Make the poor realise who is boss.


Everything in this town is pinned down. And for a thief like me that makes things very difficult indeed.

I find myslef almost always with a glass in my hand. It could be coffee or wine. Probably wine. Sometimes it is water, when I'm recovering.

I want to taste everything.

Shit magnet. My work is a shit magnet.

Shit can.

Cholesterol is an issue of which we should all be very aware. It can clog the arteries of people and kill them.

I think that bad blood is connected with hearts that attack.

I miss my Mum's pea and ham soup.

Let the children go free. They know nothing.

I know love. This fact makes me very happy.

I hope I find love with a woman again.

I would like to have sex with someone that I love.

Drown in wine.

More massacre.

Deliver the goods.

Keep up your fluids.



Fear retribution.

Remain in the que.

Don't trust.

Smoke is the product of fire.

Cocaine is a hell of a drug.

In time you will be thankful of things and regretful of things.

Get by on charity.


One arm is enough.

If the future makes you cry.


Thursday, November 5, 2009

silver silver

there is an opening

you see a wasteland

it comes to you

and now it is inside you

Monday, November 2, 2009

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Saturday, October 24, 2009

breakfast for awesome turds

two cups of coffee
two fresh figs
two white nectarines
one red papaya
one mango

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

blood dream

in hospital
i am resting
i am standing up
the iv that goes into my neck
is caught on my sleeve
i am trying not to pull it out
i am trying to get myself uncaught
it doesn't work out
the iv gets ripped out
and blood pisses
it covers me
blood stains the white hospital sheets
but does not show on
my black shorts
a very personal grief
floods this dream sequence
someone comforts me
but i don't know them
i can't
remember them

dead friends

i had a sequence of dreams
last week
in it all of my friends died
it was awful
all of you
who are close
to me
were killed
one after another
you were all killed
it made my cry in my sleep
it sucked upped
the moisture of my days
and has gutted me

i am so glad
you are all not dead

love love

Monday, October 12, 2009

it is only found in fiction

unknown unknown

my nights
is song
by Elvis and Burt

you break into my dreams

Sunday, October 11, 2009

unknown unknown

believing in a god and an afterlife
serves a persons self interest
not believing in a god and an afterlife does not
serve a persons self interest
it is this difference
that gives force
to my personal belief
in the latter

unknown unknown

it is better to get crying done whilst asleep
better than crying whilst awake
better than crying in public

Friday, October 9, 2009

unknown unknown

i have
cut open old scars before
but they
never felt like this
this time
the hurt is slower
it is more numb
it is a permanent
silent loss
there is nothing

Thursday, October 8, 2009

storm dream

a storm approaches
i am in the house i grew up in
i rush to slide shut the big glass doors
it is hard but i manage to do it
the wind rushes around the house
it is chaotic
i take refuge in the kitchen
in the arched doorway to the lounge
out the window i see people and houses
they are being blown away
i cant remember if i was scared or not
the word maelstrom comes to mind

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

It was

it is a privileged modern need
to simply exist is not enough
to lead a quiet life
not enough.
not after

Saturday, October 3, 2009




Thursday, October 1, 2009

Trouble? Trubble?

moist exotic places
i've always yearned to go
that i went
now i'm down to earth
looks like you've eaten already
you don't even believe in god
lick the blood off my hands
it mixes with my wine
despair on my lonesome
oh shut up
that too much work for you
such a noisy dinner table
ask her to marry you anyway
its just so complicated
harbor a fantasy
she asked me to marry her
i must have nodded off
maybe i'll just forget it
you won't
so i'll just shoot you
point blank

Thoughts on a show of mine by a friend of mine

Perfect From Now On - 22nd May to 24th June 2009

Brisbane based painter and sculptural artist Christian Flynn has made some big promises in his first Sydney solo show. The space his eclectic and monstrous works occupy in Evan Hughes Gallery both confirm and deny perfection in their frantic negotiation of 2D and 3D space. Perfect From Now On sees Flynn’s aesthetic sensitivity walk the line between beauty and grotesque in a resolute manner that refuses to make assumptions about either. It is this refusal to contextualise which situates his new work, as his artist statement claims, between two conflicting yet equal forces. Flynn believes due to the ambivalence of these visual forces, they are incapable of producing a dominant meaning, rendering any overarching concern muted.

Entering the exhibition, one can see this muted state at work. Every piece is strikingly beautiful and penetrates the gallery space in a fashion which demonstrates Flynn’s balanced aesthetic consideration. These works drive back the viewer by means of protruding planks and board whilst consuming them through a network of neon string that link in an almost cartographic system of connection between these massively scaled constructions. These protrusions are fastened to paintings featuring non-descript geometric and gestural marks in clusters of conflicting colours. Areas of texture are set against areas of block colour. Perfectly ruled diagrams are set against areas of action painting. White space is set against clusters of random symbols. Works mounted on gallery walls are set against other pieces that seem to completely defy gravity. In this way, one can see these conflicting ideas playing out through visual elements. They work both together and against each other to create impressively aesthetic pieces.

An equality of forces cannot be explored without addressing notions of symmetry, symmetry cannot be explored without addressing beauty and beauty cannot be explored without addressing perfection. If we take this exhibition as Flynn’s personal benchmark of his exploration into perfection, how do notions of beauty and symmetry carry when his work is so obviously influenced by Art Povera and a self-consciously grungy aesthetic?  Although demonstrations of equilibrium can be seen in his work, these are still aggressive and confrontational pieces.

Believe it or not, the piece titled Portrait of the Artist as a Young Francis Bacon Wannabe/ 30 Year Old Fully Rad Art Knob Guy To The Power of Sick Suffering Erectile Dysfunction may be able to shed light on an answer. This piece seems to have started off as a framed abstract painting which has split into fragments and been impaled on two supporting planks of wood with equally haphazard media nailed to them. The work uneasily contextualises itself into the sculptural- battered with paint, stung by string and supported by the corner of the gallery space. Like his previous works, Portrait of the Artist… is unashamedly and honestly an act of self-portraiture. The exploration of self through the process of art making articulates ideas of perfection as not purely aesthetic ambitions but as personal affirmations. Through utilising a self-consciously disheveled method, Flynn attempts to comment on the human condition using himself as subject. The aesthetic conflicts of his work become personal conflicts. If Flynn’s artworks can encompass human qualities, they themselves become more human and counter intuitively, more perfect. The more precisely Flynn can visually articulate these personal bouts of anger, apathy, dependence, doubt, anxiety and joy, the closer he and his artwork comes to perfection. In this way, the act of balancing out these qualities to a mutable state proves perfection is possible.

Perfect From Now On is an innovative exploration into the tension between contemporary sculpture and painting through the metaphor of personal conflict. It is though these conflicts that Flynn articulates what it is to be human, and it is through these inherit contradictions he is able to negotiate balance in order to discover an enduring sense of perfection. Perhaps the most important testament to the success of Flynn’s practice will depend on where this perfectionism will take him to next.


i don't believe in beatles
i just believe in the motherfuckin' aliens

Tuesday, September 29, 2009


chicken breast cooked in prosciutto

duck fat potatoes

steak in bacon fat

garlic butter mash

stuffed tempura mushrooms

glazed suckling pig

kentucky fried dugong

Thursday, September 24, 2009

the father is important because he is a vehicle for my doubt

i worry that my blood will kill me
when i drink too much it gets thick
and it makes my feet swell a bit
my toes lose their feeling when i ride
it's my blood
and it may clot and i'll die
it's my blood
then i take other stuff
and it makes my guts sore
it takes my mood south
it's my fathers blood
but i dont feel like im much like him anymore
almost never now
even though it's his blood that i carry
it's my blood
even if it doesn't work well
it's my blood
it's my blood

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

unknown unknown

i slit myself cock to ear

i slit myself cock to ear

i slit myself cock to ear

i slit myself cock to ear

i slit myself cock to ear

i slit myself cock to ear

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Sunday, September 13, 2009


I shall do justice to the following

the cockaroach.
stinky palm.

as a physician you of all people should appreciate the dangers of re-opening old wounds

thinking about how much cockaroach is in these noodles?
how much urine is on my hands as i lick my fingers?
how much faeces is left on my hand from before?
have i eaten desicated spider unintentionally?
i don't care for spiders.
i've eaten flies before.
while i'm riding my bike generally.
they just fly in there.
it is gross.
not much you can do though.
scratch your bum.
now your hand smells.
scratch it again.
scratch too hard.
flies in my mouth.
buzzing spitting.
blood in my undies.
skid marks from scratching.
stinky palm.
it is a bit better but
it still itches.

Thoughts on painting and art

Justice has been done to so much.

Justice has been done to the human figure
Justice has been done to gestural abstraction
Justice has been done to queerness
Justice has been done to the fried egg
Justice has been done to hard edge
Justice has been done to order
Justice has been done to straightness
Justice has been done to purity
Justice has been done its opposite
Justice has been done to the sweet potato
Justice has been done to the mountains
Justice has been done to beautiful girls
Justice has been done to warfare
Justice has been done to men
Justice has been done to pop
Justice has been done to chaos
Justice has been done to Australiana
Justice has been done to the human condition
Justice has been done to white goods
Justice has been done to the milkshake
Justice has been done to extremeness
Justice has been done to feminism
Justice has been done to porno
Justice has been done to language
Justice has been done to politics

A quote on the primacy of experience

to know and not to do is not to know

Friday, September 11, 2009

Fully rad to the power of sick!!!!!!!!!!!

unknown unknown

all me existential rage
is for nought
as i am sated
with simply
a pear danish and
a strong cup of coffee

Saturday, September 5, 2009

unknown unknown

Dead innocence.

The earth is scorched.
Disaster is the
empty corpses that litter the streets
and the silent structures of the city.
The desert presses in.
Dust is the dominant state of things.
It is a wasteland seen in a million movies.
Traversed in video games.
Written in a million novels and poems.
The lost.
We saw it coming.
It is a loss coloured with the torture of memory.
The loss of what it was.
The potential of what it could have been.

Our only constant now is the desert,
both within and without.

unknown uknown

Nuclear weapons are not mediocre.
I want to be a nuclear weapon.
Small and not very special to look at,
full of catastrophic potential.

I want that power.
The power to simplify this world.
A world which is now completely beyond my understanding.

Thursday, September 3, 2009

unknown unknown

i have no idea what i am doing

but it seems to be turning out ok

i need a drink

Sunday, August 30, 2009

perfect from now on

the possibility of an artwork
that never loses its potency
is like the possibility of an erection
that never goes down
the potency of the art echoes through eternity
the rigidity of the erection never wavers
maybe what i need is an artwork
that goes hard
that goes soft
that succeeds
that fails
over and over
over and over
and over

dick tyrant


MSSR vs Christian Flynn and Brent Wilson

MSSR vs Christian Flynn and Brent Wilson