in love

friday i'm in love.jpg


ok, so i’ve talked a lot about love lately. and i could go into the gag-inducing details of a new love affair – kisses and romance, etc.


but today i’m going to gush over my even newer love: haught. like an erudite love-child of fitzroyalty and helen razer, jonathan has swept me off my cynical and critical intellectual feet and has me gasping with joy at his gentle caresses of cutting prose.


it all started with the repartee between him and yarra trams. including beautiful moments like this:


If Jim Beam want to know how to make something go viral they can put aside their  incomprehensible, cacophonous clusterfuck of an ad and take a leaf out of Yarra Trams’ book”


then it escalated when i read his beautiful letter of note to jim beam. i think i fell hard.


It doesn’t matter if the ads are annoying – as long as they’re getting people’s attention, they’re more brilliant than a peacock having sex with a bird of paradise in front of a bird of paradise (plant) on a beach on Daydream Island.”


and, having read the email to disgraced wankpot, ben polis, former bigwig of energywatch, i have found myself struck – completely smitten by haught’s regard for the absurd in australian public relations.


i’m already daydreaming, wistfully imagining the haught reponse to this beautiful line of fuckery from andrew demetriou (upstanding head of the AFL) and fantasising that it might be dedicated to me. like a groupie in the front row of a rapier wit gig.


“I mean they are offensive, they are ridiculous. You’ve only got to see them on the front page of the Herald Sun to understand how outrageously offensive they are,” he said”


(um…  yes, andrew, the front page of the herald sun is the only place to see just how offensive they are)




look, i don’t really want to share my new-found love, dare i sully it. but please, make a difference to your love life and read this blog.
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home away from home

there are a few cool kids’ gangs that i feel like i’m part of, even though i’m not really. or not really ‘there’.
probably to the point of embarrassment. 
like, i’ll walk in there one day and say ‘hi!’ to everyone, and they’ll have NO idea who i am:
the design conspiracy is one of them (especially before ben terrett left) – in fact, i think i did walk in there like i was part of the crew. luckily ben was there and i could just shuffle into doing something to help out
coffee mornings was another – i would see pics and read about who was there on every friday morning at the breakfast club in soho and i felt like i was part of the crew. when i did arrive in london, of course i would rock up. even though they were mostly planners and russelldavies fanboys (sorry russell). but i had a good time and everyone was welcoming and i met people who i continue to keep in touch with in elastic ways.
slightly less chummy, but just as ‘part of’ was actually tate modern. although it was more because i would read TATE ETC, their members’ magazine, and my friend/husband john would send me stuff from their exhibitions. and it only takes one visit to the museum i reckon and there’s a physical connect.

kaotic craft kuties is another club that, when it was in full swing, i felt like i was there when i wasn’t there; my friend esther’s new loungeroom sunday salon, where artsy and/or farsty crew talk about the stuff they’re up to, discuss themes like committment, burnout and collaboration – i get a great wrap-up of what happened at the salon, and i feel like i was almost there, which is great.

i sometimes forget that i don’t work at ARUP with dan hill from city of sound or  geoff manaugh at bldgblog, or rory/simon/stewart/christine from The Architects – because when i read their stuff, or listen to them on the radio, or watch them present, i feel like i could be there if time, money or qualifications were no issue.

WK London

the big one, hilariously, is wieden + kennedy. i have so many blog/twitter/instagram friends who work in their offices around the world, who are always posting pictures about what they’re doing, writing blogs about their stuff, i see youtube videos of campaigns and have had discussions peeps in person, that it’s like i’m the kid next door. 
i’m sure i’m not alone with that one – there are tonnes of advertising creative types that want to work there, i’m sure their receptionist in london gets it ALL THE TIME. and i supposed their CEO and creative directors get emails from strangers asking for advice and think ‘who the fuck are you?’. annoying maybe, but then hopefully they see it as proof that they do a good job of keeping people connected to them.

it’s a bit sad that there aren’t many art organisations that i feel that connected to really. e-flux does a good job of making me feel at home in the art scene generally. as does artlife. but i’m yet to walk into a gallery, or arts organisation for the first time and get weird looks when i say ‘hi!’ like i’ve been there a thousand times before.
maybe i’m not trying hard enough. maybe there’s something in that…
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Viva la stupidité

ReadMe: http://theartlife.com.au/?p=4745

Ok, so I think this is the third article by carrie miller that I’ve chucked into my delicious account. Which officially makes me an adoring fan.

This article is exactly what I needed to hear.
Along with bret easton ellis’ damning of empire sensibility and some more heidegger on the clearing.

I don’t actually entirely agree with baudrillard’s idea of compulsory inclusion within the capitalist state. I think there are degrees of inclusion and I have recently embraced my inner outsider, given that time, tax, superannuation, utilities, media and property are not inclusive of arts practice or inter/multi-discplinary language. But, this is not to say that I shouldn’t change my attitude about the commerce of my art.

Let’s see where this leads to next.

Image credit: the art life.

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the sea, she is red

I was ill last week and finally had a chance to catch up on reading some blogs for a bit.

There seemed to be a theme running through a few of them. Namely blood and animals.

mike pickard‘s amazing plea against the danish ritual of dolphin killing for adolescent males, instead of lasertag or circumcision.

and on a similarly red, but philosophically different note, photographer lesley turnbull has posted strangely beautiful post about a talisman and the humane killing of a sick horse (which still makes me squeamish because i’m cowardly, not because i think it’s cruel).

i don’t usually find copious amounts of viscera beautiful (unless it’s the final scene of american beauty), but there was something enthralling about both of these.

sorry if you’re eating breakfast and checking these out.

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marina abramovic made my cry made me cry

Day 49, Portrait 6

a while ago i discovered this beautiful tumblr blog about the marina abramovic show at MoMA. every couple of days, i see these beautiful tear-stained faces staring intently at an absent figure, the amazing performance artist.

for me, her absence becomes immediately present, and i also cry. it’s like an echo of what is really happening, which is also an echo of what is really happening.

perfect.

and most-excellent used of blogs/flickr for performance/contemporary art.

thanks for subscribing to she sees red by lauren brown. xx