Wednesday, January 26, 2011


Art holds the promise of meaningful labour.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Miss the rest of me, Miss. Hester Mofet

Cold steel on her breast. Its the first thing I notice when I sit at the bar. Her tits and the thing that is going to open my beer. A bottle opener, nestled down the side of the top of her dress. She is bone white with black hair but the first thing you notice about her is her breasts. Large for such a short girl but they are lovely. They are tattooed too. Im not sure if this makes them more lovely? Probably yes, in time the flesh will fail to support the ink before it fails the shape of the breasts. Fleeting beauty seems to me to be more lovely. Thats a bit romantic but whatever. I guess I am romantic. The rest of her is nice too, great skin and good legs. Nice bum. 

Today has been a bad day. Only internally though. I tried to relax but couldn't. Its odd but it is often the case that a bad day is preceded by a good day. Strange. Yesterday was cleaner, didn't feel so muddy. Today however was a bit like the floods of the other week, more easy to manage though and without any real tragedy. I wait for a ten dollar burger trying not to get caught perving on the bartender feeling a very familiar type of fake sorry for myself. I feel as though the world is rather disappointed in me. I guess it's me who is disappointed in me. Such waste and expensive excess poured into a vehicle of averageness. I feel mostly hate and disapproval for myself. A little contempt too. All this speculation is a waste and a greater indulgence than just simply feeling down. It's about time I silenced myself, not permanently, just that part of me that continually swells and complicates life and then recedes. Things are always worse when I finish a series of work and this is currently the case. There is sense of real satisfaction that comes with making work but there is also a real feeling of despair that comes with completion. The realisation that this is all I have. Making work makes me feel complete, finishing work makes me feel desperately lonely.

So I go back to looking at the bartender and her breasts, eating my burger and drinking my beer, hoping I don't get caught staring but not really caring either and I keep thinking that my average ten dollar burger and beer wouldn't be so bad if I could find someone to share it with. It may make the despair of being between work a little lighter too. But it's all indulgence. So yeah, whatever. Goodnight.

New work December 2010, January 2011 (plus a couple of oldies I'm very glad to have back)

Sunday, January 16, 2011

As is

Consider uprightness. Being upright. The desire to be straight. I need scaffolding. Structure. Regimentation. Rigidity. Order. Repetition. Consider joining the military. Consider starting my own military. Structure, rigidity, repetition, recruitment, warfare. My own personal power structure. A thing to enforce upon myself and maybe if I'm feeling dictatorial, something to enforce on others. A quiet, violent thing to internalise first and then to share.

Location:Brunswick St,New Farm,Australia