A Brief Yet Triumphant Intermission

Am taking some time out from the blogathon, you know - to focus on myself and stuff like that.

I know you will miss me terribly, but fear not: there shall no doubt be a backlog of photos of myself to share with the world upon return.
Plus there will be other bells and whistles. (Not Bel whistling tho, I am pants at that).

Ka kite ano,

XXX

Christina Rossetti poem: In An Artist's Studio

In An Artist's Studio

One face looks out from all his canvasses,
One selfsame figure sits or walks or leans;
We found her hidden just behind those screens,
That mirror gave back all her loveliness.
A queenin opal or in ruby dress,
A nameless girl in freshest summer greens,
A saint, an angel; -- every canvass means
The same one meaning, neither more nor less.
He feeds upon her face by day and night,
And she with true kind eyes looks back on him
Fair as the moon and joyfull as the light;
Not wan with waiting, not with sorrow dim;
Not as she is, but was when hope shone bright;
Not as she is, but as she fills his dream.






Christina Rossetti

dancin in the park

X-air's not exactly my scene. I can see foolhardy young men risking life and limb, doing stunts on dirt bikes and caning themselves from mid-air anytime I want really - we call that "post-Christmas-lunch activities" in our family.

But I will hunt down breakdancers whereever they may be, so off Leanne and I went on Sunday, avoiding the oh-so-empowering bikini comp by the lagoon and the assault of coporate sponsors at every turn.

b-girl styles holla!!

Thanks to Body Rock the week before, we were familiar with plenty of the talent and were continued to be impressed by the crews at Frank Kitts Park that afternoon. The final was between Fresh Socks (its an awesome name, you know it) and the Original Step Kingz - not to be confused with all those subsequent, derivative Step Kingz, thank you very much.

Fresh Socks crew, Trans-Tasman deliciousness that they are.

Original Step Kingz: Kurv, Stretch and, um, the other guy.

Stretch was the guy who won overall at Body Rock and twas no surprise his crew was tight. I loved it when rather than just one of them stepping out, all three would bust out some move at the same time and overwhelm the other side.

Not to say that Fresh Socks didn't have a fair bit of style. Rush was the judge of Body Rock, and him & Melbz had come over from Australia for the events. (I'm just throwing the 'z's in willynilly here, these hip hip kids don't seem to have much respect for the humble 's').



As well as high quality 3 on 3 breaking, there was lots of other action to gaze upon all day. The kids that make up the entourage are just amazing. So much talent, so much stamina, so much damn attitude. You should have seen the way this little un, Kid Swerve, son of the MC/organiser of the event, rolled. He had a shoulder brush-off to be revered.



And for those of you (all of you) who just don't give a shite, I have annotated the token cute blondie. During the under-ages battle, she mightly took the mat, but didn't actually get around to demonstrating any ill moves. Still claimed her Moro bar tho, so I respect her for that.

We also received a few Moro bars during the course of the event, so I guess the corporate sponsors aren't all bad. Though by 'received' I do of course mean 'was flung at close range by extremely fit young gentlemen'. Tweet, the MC, kept saying "Aah yeah, sorry if you get one in the eye, yo!".

But other that slightly sunburnt legs and lingering grief that I will never ever look that cool on the dancefloor, there were no injuries on my part as a result of attending X-Air.


-insert Craig David lyrics here-

Happy thank-fuck-valentine's-day-is-over Day!!

Jokes, people, jokes.

Despite being one of those singleton types, supposedly morose on Feb 14th, and whom my colleagues thought it would be HILARIOUS to tease that each ring of the office doorbell promised a mysterious red rose bouquet, I had quite a lovely day yesterday.

Wellington continues to convince us that tis indeed summer and that sort of behaviour can't help but put you in a good mood. I had a pie for lunch (potato top, goddam) and took my new $600-for-$149 Karen Walker pants to get taken up. Actually, I think I'm going to devote a whole new paragraph to this.

I've NEVER had to get trousers taken up before in my life. I had to call back the store and ask them to recommend somewhere. (Topline Tailors, on Dixon, FYI). Was most bizarre. I'm pretty much six foot once I get shoes on, so most of the time I have a problem in the other direction. Quite exciting really!!

Anyway, my evening was devoted to seeing a Fringe Festival play with a dear friend (not only female, but in a relationship, with another female - how's that for anti-V-Day?! Take that Hallmark, you consumerist hetero mainstream bastards, I'm pretty sure you don't have any sppropriate giftcard for THAT occasion). 'Lovers of Central Park' by James Hadley was pretty amazing and has been reviewed very favourably here for those interested.

Then just as I got home I saw a very cute wee hedgehog on our driveway so that pretty much topped it all off.

I wasn't completely deserted in terms of Valentine's treats however, fear not! Lovely Louise, formerly of the Travels, sent me this e-card a week or so beforehand, nicely setting the tone:


Roffle roffle. Tho I have to admit that despite being fairly leet, I'm not entirely sure what "STFU" means. I kinda like the sound of it tho. I imagine saying as an actual word, through gritted teeth and snarled lip, though still in a jokey, sort of ironic way. I also imagine that any true geek is sighing wearily at my way-off interpretation right now.

Then much to my joy I got some REAL mail in my ACTUAL letterbox - from ALL THE WAY around the world. In case the overabundance of caps locks didn't inform you, twas quite the thrill. It was my other Lou, which makes me think I may stock up on these well-named creatures for next year, as they seem to produce the goods.
Perhaps even a boy-flavoured one, as that would be quite compatible with my lifestyle.


I say "ka pai" to the funky card with retro wallpaper styles. Its now on my work pinboard, with many other important coroporate related documents, as you can see.

But wait! There's more! Lou just couldn't help herself, and when she saw this e-card, she just had to send it through as well:



And of course, at the home of all sweet lovin, MySpace, dear Tanyapants had bestowed this upon me:



Ooh eer!

In return, my sentiments are represented by the artwork of Jason Sho Green. I've loved this guy's work for years, and was thrilled that he let me include one of his sketches in my Goody Two Shoes zine. He recently started posting daily on You Yes You, but sadly he didn't deliver his infamous Valentine's cards this year.

Fortunately, amongst his archives on Flickr are his cards from 2005, including one of my favourites:



Arohanui e hoa ma, lots of love - not just on one day of the year, but on most of them ;)

another kind of dancin in the street

Showing us how it's done.

You have to visit the website to see the pics - if you try do the 'right button click' (with your mind going COPY! SAVE! SET AS DESKTOP BACKGROUND! OMG!) a little box pops up pointing out the images are copyright and to please refrain. Fair enuff.

The images remind me of Sam Taylor-Wood's photos, from the exhibition which only got attention for the 'Crying Men' section. (Trelease mentioned it in her Special Guest Post late last year). But there were other images, some of which were very similar to this in concept.



Just found that off Google - but you still MUST go check out those World Press Photo winners - as they stomp all over them. Sam Taylor-Wood's ones are steeped in her overriding aesthetic, which works in terms of her oevre, but you get so much more of a feeling of vitality and passion from that set of the French photographer.

(I'm been trapped in a spreadsheet all afternoon, okay, cleaning up data - let me enthuse a little!!).

A huge thank you to Tanya for the heads-up on these. I love it when a friend just totally knows what is going to float your boat - particularly in terms of art. I had a nasty falling out with Sam recently over Yves Klein, along the lines of "You didn't have a love-at-first-sight experience with one of his paintings?! FOOL".

I usually find the World Press Photo exhibition fairly traumatising. Last year a friend, Jim, was managing it here in Wellington and by the time I shuffled round my lap, I threw my arms around him and sobbed right there by the main doors. (I'm sure he just lapped up the heartfelt public endorsement).

At least now I know I have gravity defying French hotties to look forward to, as well as a wake-up call about the worldwide horrors and travesties that slid under my nose during the last twelve months.

dancin in the street

Wellingtonians have a certain disdainful attitude about the Hutt Valley and all that is contained within its clammy slopes. (Excepting perhaps, the Dowse and Eastborne. Oh and that crazy Japanese restaurant. But everything else is feral).

However, Saturday evening was the Jackson St Fiesta, and their big drawcard for the night was Opensouls, an awesome AK-based band I've raved about earlier here. And street carnivals always have a great atmosphere so we were up for it, despite the hazards of venturing that deep into bogan territory.





As you can see, Leanne and I wasted no time getting into the groove on the reclaimed main street. It was joy of joys when we stumbled across a band setting up on one of the three stages that was basically a re-arrangement of Olmecha Supreme, who rocked my world at One Love.

They were doing much more African rootsy style music and the tribal-priest style leader kept us in hysterics with his mantra "if you can WALK then you can DANCE! if you can TALK than you can SING!".



As you can see, I managed to keep on repping it for the white ass girls, jiving like a nana, throughly put to shame by one of the Mahal entourage (undoubtably sister of Deva/Imon Starr/etc - gawd, you should have seen their MUM dancing...!!).

It has been a week of beautifully warm sunny weather here and the summer evening seemed to stretch on forever. When Opensouls took the stage, a huge crowd was ready for it. Their set was fun and funky - they played some new stuff and their singles went down really well too. We were right up front and centre, singing along and "getting our kani on" as instructed.

Lurking about afterwards, we realised that adorably teddy-bear like trumpet player guy who grinned his way through each and every song was standing right by us. I had a hysterical fan girl moment and used my go go gadget arms to SEEMINGLY take a photo of myself, but ACTUALLY capture his talented presence on film (well, digital). (well, cellphone). (well, SHUT UP).



You'd think this would be the pinnacle of happiness, BUT THEN when i got the image onto my computer, and viewed in on a screen larger than a postage stamp, I realised I'd also managed to paparazzi Tyra, the lead female singer!! woot!
I have annotated the image and reposted it for those of you not so familiar with the band:



All in all, twas a night that made me very happy.

texts from Cam today:

11:36:54AM

Be home for dinner
tonight. I'm gonna make
something so good it'll
make you cry and
declare me the King of
Pasta. In a good way.

11:37:22AM

And I'm going to invite
Kieran so he can sing
harmony.

awards season bonaza

If you didn't know instantly that I was referring to awards being given to FILMS, then you are pretty much NOT MY FRIEND.

The next wee while is all about the build up to the Oscars. And although its all grumble-grumble 'they don't mean anything really, its all politics anyway, true talent never gets recognised' rahrahrah, they're still a unifying ceremony worldwide and the landmark cinematic event of the year.

I always try and make sure I've seen each of the Best Picture nominations and as many of the other relevant top category films too. So, yes, this means in the last few years I've wasted time and money on pieces of shite like Crash and Million Dollar Baby, but watching the whole shebang live just isn't a participatory experience unless you've seen the flicks already.

Doing the whole sweepstakes thing always throws me out though. Because it IS 'political' and I tend to tick my boxes instinctually, I never win enough points. Besides, who really saw the black-out of 2002 coming?! Last year I so wanted Brokeback Mountain to win, I really thought it was better than Walk The Line, but in terms of stakes i shouldn't have backed it. FOOL!!

Recently I've seen Little Miss Sunshine, The Queen and The Last King of Scotland. All VERY different films, but all nominated in those big categories. (You can check the full list here at the Oscars website, and of course Lou's blog is a reigning authority on all things cinematic).


The Queen didn't really light a fire under my arse, to be entirely honest. Its not visually exciting in terms of cinematography, though I thought what they did with the archive footage of Diana was great. However, that's come to be something expected in this post-modern age.

At the other end of the spectrum is Little Miss Sunshine, which blew my mind in terms of its look. Its beautifully composed, with shots that are careully structured and dynamic but done in a way that is so effortless it never feels overbearing. I'm a sucker for oversaturation and symmetrical balance so combine that with a great black comedy about a wonderful and wonderfully dysfunctional family and I'm sold.


The Last King of Scotland is another film with lush lush visuals. And a cracking pace, which always makes me happy. The two hours or so hours passed without me noticing, which is astonishing considering my 90 minute attention span. The film covers a fascinating, terrifying aspect of a nation's history from a very subjective viewpoint, and I'll be interested to learn more about how much is fact and how much is fiction.

Next on my list is Babel, and also Dreamgirls. Although I'm being distracted from my goals by the Twilight Cinema screenings, and the fact that summer seems to have arrived finally. You feel a bit bad wasting all that precious good weather being locked away in a dark cool room... But that's what being a film geek is all about!!

Seamus Heaney poem: Mid-term Break

Mid-term Break

I sat all morning in the college sick bay
Counting bells knelling classes to a close,
At two o'clock our neighbors drove me home.

In the porch I met my father crying -
He had always taken funerals in his stride -
And Big Jim Evans saying it was a hard blow.

The baby cooed and laughed and rocked the pram
When I came in, and I was embarrassed
By old men standing up to shake my hand

And tell me they were "sorry for my trouble,"
Whispers informed strangers I was the eldest,
Away at school, as my mother held my hand

In hers and coughed out angry tearless sighs.
At ten o'clock the ambulance arrived
With the corpse, stanched and bandaged by the nurses.

Next morning I went up into the room. Snowdrops
And candles soothed the bedside; I saw him
For the first time in six weeks. Paler now,

Wearing a poppy bruise on the left temple,
He lay in the four foot box as in a cot.
No gaudy scars, the bumper knocked him clear.

A four foot box, a foot for every year.






Seamus Heaney

being in Fidel's

The new regime is going to be a ball.

Slipping all Freudian like

Hee hee, you accidentally wrote:
this is like the second hug big long email I have sent you today.
HUG!! Instead of huge!! Hee hee love it. In a way our emails are the electronic text equivalent of a hug.

Gogo girls

Bandwagon? Yes please!

I'm now on Ringo thanks to Evelyn. My sole friend there, I might add. So if you are lurking about, feel free to shimmy up close.

Ev was here for the long weekend, with other lovely AK girlies in tow - and although their sole purpose seemed to be stocking up on photos for this Ringo thingo, we also managed to fit in some high class shenannigans too.

Jane, Ev & Sarah. Our city's guests for the wknd.

Jane was our pout tutor. I was the troubled student.

Lingering memory of the night:
Jane behind the lens going "Two and three and BLOW!"

At Mighty Mighty, with a bit of product placement.

What's a good night out without a bit of impulse tattooing?!

Last call: BOY CRAZY!

A dispatch from Cherry Bomb Comics that needs spreading round:

Behold!

The final email notifying you of the final exciting deadline (and other Q&As) regarding your opportunity to have work published in the new all-girl comic anthology BOY CRAZY!


*Q: What is BOY CRAZY! again? I remember knowing before Xmas but the deadline evaporated and I like flaked out.*

A: BOY CRAZY! is the all-girl, fully published book that will be released mid-2007; immortalising female comic, zine and art culture in this country.
Conceived, compiled and edited by Coco (co-creator of 'This is not a Comic') and Mitch (an editor currently working in the legal publishing field) - we're both comics-crazy and determined to make this book the first of many completely incredible publications showcasing NZ underground artists and comix culture.In the tradition of great female comic collections like 'Twisted Sister' (US) and 'Daughters of Slaughter' (NZ) you have been invited to submit your work and you'd be the crazy one not to feature – so time to be onto it 'dude'.


*Q: When is the deadline?*

A: The new final and revised deadline is Monday March 12, 2007. We have attached our postal address, email and contact phone numbers at the bottom of this email, along with the technical specs and creative requirements of your submission. Despite our xmas-time flexibility we will be holding all artists to this deadline. If you are worried about this at all just get in touch as soon as possible and we can probably sort something out.
TIP: Don’t leave it til the last minute, basically you've got five weeks from today to do something insanely creative that reflects what a choice lady you are.


*Q: Why should I submit something again?*

A: This is a professionally published book on the coffee table tip, exciting sponsors are onboard and this project is a huge chance to showcase work for all artists and females in NZ. This could potentially generate more interest and income into the realms of independent art and comics (not to mention the talented ladies who've crafted them). Wanted to 'make something' for a while? Wanted to have a motivation to do this? Needed to feel pressure slash inspired? Or a workaholic looking for her next project? A comic geek who wants to be included? Don't make me get Tony Robbins.

*Q: Does my comic have to be BOY CRAZY?*

A: No. Its a counteractive shout out to the Hernandez Brothers' comic 'Girl Crazy' as well as a pisstake/acknowledgment of the phenenomen that some girls are boy crazy. If you are, go nuts. If you aren't, all good. It'll be a mean collection either way.


NOW YOU KNOW THE DEAL, GO HARD. BOY CRAZY! will showcase the diverse female talent in the NZ art/comic/zine and independent press realms. The anthology will feature a mix of comic legends, alt artists and electric newcomers. We look forward to your submission and hope to finally celebrate the awesome tomboy talents of Aotearoa. Read on for all the details AND dont forget to pass the BOY CRAZY! info onto all the other clever female artists you know.

x Coco & Mitch


BOY CRAZY: The lowdown
-------------------------------

2007 will mark the release of 'BOY CRAZY!' - an all-girl anthology of comic art from New Zealand.

We would like to invite you to contribute to this fully published book.

BOY CRAZY!

* All contributors are asked to submit a small blurb/bio for themselves and self-portrait (this will introduce you and your section).

* All contributors will receive a complimentary copy of BOY CRAZY!

* A minimum of 2 pages is required for a submission with a maximum of 8 suggested. This is flexible and excludes your bio and self portrait.

* The final deadline for submissions is Friday 1 December 2006 Monday 12 March 2007.

* Please send this on to any other ladies who might also be interested in submitting work

Send submissions to:

BOY CRAZY!
PO Box 78367
Grey Lynn
Auckland

Or:

boycrazycomics (at) gmail.com

Let's get together and feel all right

Is there any other way to spend Waitangi Day in Wellington?

Got to One Love at midday and there was already a huge crowd filling up the grass in the middle of the velodrome. The on-to-it ones had their chilly bins, gazebos, replacement-glass vessels and gallons of sunscreen all good to go.

I'd spent the night before at my Dad's, so I was wearing a day-old black dress, shoes far too cute to be practical and lugging round a load of comic books from the library. Fortunately I had two water bottles - and lots of scrumpy to beg, steal, borrow...

A couple pics of us here and here thanks to the Bartlettssss.

And probably if there are pics around from the Olmecha Supreme set, you will spot some cats going crazy up the front, that is us too. Two guys in matching hats and matching man-cleavage, a girl with flys-eyes sunglasses and Cam with his awesomely ugly red hat, in amongst the rest of the crowd going wild at this guy and his crew:



Best outdoor live music since... Splore - Talib Kweli or the Cuban Brothers. Oh yeah, I'm puttin it up there.

And traipsing all the way round to Haitaitai beach for an early evening swim afterwards was the best idea ever. As was paying that public holiday surcharge to get us a curry for tea. And then collapsing to bed to feast on new books and enjoy warm skin.

The four corners of the town square.

BODY ROCK is on today and I am very excited. I have caught this in its various incarnations for the last couple of years - sometimes it coincides with X-Air, other times it seems to be independent.

Basically, there's a whole lot of break dancing, street art and music going on, right in the middle of town. And its always such a mix of people too, hence a white ass girl like me not feeling too out of place being in the midst of it!

Last year they set up a big graff wall in Civic Square and had specific taggers working on it throughout the day. Watching these people at work was incredible. Their deftness of hand and foresight was impressive, and the way an image was built up seemingly casually, but with such confidence.

Using Molotow spraypaint (which I knew of thanks to my lil bro's shenannigans with stencilling) they created a piece of art several metres long and as high as their arms could stretch. The other thing I loved was that the colour palette was limited solely to shades of pink - the only cans supplied. It looked freakin awesome.

I have more to say (about Furious Styles the wicked breaking crew who are back again this year) but time would be better spent psyching myself up for the traipse through central city, avoiding munter Sevens people...

How Steph Ruined My Day:

Lou blogged about Glastonbury and I was all "you know how I know you're gay... you like Coldplay" and then Steph was like "oh well you should Google this other festival, Bel..." and that's how I found out about Coachella and now my day is ruined.

And there I was thinking that being woken up three times between 4.55am and 6.15am couldn't be topped. CONGRATULATIONS STEPH.

In case you are lazy, here is an abbreviated list:

• Bjork
  
• Interpol
  
• Arctic Monkeys
  
• Jarvis Cocker
  
• DJ Shadow
  
• Peaches
  
• Rufus Wainwright
  
• El-P
  
• Gogol Bordello
  
• Gillian Welch
  
• Amy Winehouse
  
• Red Hot Chili Peppers
  
• the Arcade Fire
  
• the Decemberists
  
• Kings Of Leon
  
• Gotan Project
  
• Blonde Redhead
  
• Regina Spektor
  
• Hot Chip
  
• Ghostface Killah
  
• CocoRosie
  
• Rage Against The Machine
  
• Manu Chao
  
• Air
  
• Happy Mondays
  
• Willie Nelson
  
• the Roots
  
• Crowded House
  
• Kaiser Chiefs
  
• Placebo
  
• Lily Allen
  
• Jose Gonzalez
  
• Ratatat
  
• the Kooks
  
• CSS
  
• Lupe Fiasco

Now if you'll excuse me, I have some laminating to do and then I intend on finding myself a corner of the office in which to cry myself to sleep.

I wish they'd made this the headline...

...instead of the closing line of the story:

Mr Williams said that a woman recently complained because her young son had been hit in the face by a hot pie during a Mexican wave.

You can read in full about why Australians have now decided that along with no national flags at the BDO, there cannot be Mexican waves at cricket one-dayers on Stuff.
Personally it seems that the problem stems from allowing Aussies and their anti-social behaviour at these public events, and that perhaps we need to find an isolated continent to export them all to, far away from us. Somewhere on the other side of the world... where the weather's terrible and they won't notice a boatload extra of yobbish louts anyway... a move that would be a sweet ironic burn on their colonial arses... hmm...

Taika Waititi's definition of "independent film":

My definition of "Independent Film" is a film which doesn't take any shit from any other film. It's independent, it's not gonna listen to your film or that big, rich film over there... No way, this film is gonna do what it wants. If it wants to go out and get a job then it can. It it wants to vote, that's cool. This film is gonna pay its own way, and it doesn't need your charity, so go back to the hills and swim in your infinity pool 'cause this film is hanging down here in the film ghetto.

From his interview with the poor innocent people at the Sundance Festival.