Out of the blue, I have been contacted by a researcher from University of Southern California. He has developed a computer robot that finds personal blogs and analyses them. It's interesting to know that whatever combination of words I have been using to express myself have been quantified and can be detected by his machine. I answered a survey asking me why I blogged and how I felt about putting forth my personal observations. Was I worried about who reads this? No. I think anyone who has the time or curiousity to delve into this is fine. I have been journaling in personal illustrated books since 1986. I like to record my life when I can. I have previously researched the letters of wives stationed abroad with their military or missionary husbands in the 1800's. I found that their letters were much more entertaining and absorbing than the dry reports that their partners left. It is a good record of the times with social nuances and attitudes candidly written. This, I found in the National Art Library of the Victoria and Albert Museum.
Tuesday, 26 April 2016
Party Season
Living too fast to record it these days...months. Good times. I think things have picked up since November....since Chantal's party. I really thought it was going to be a sober occasion with tea and Tesco cakes, just a step up from a funeral after party, but no. It was more than that. It was nice to see people who I normally see in the park with their kids letting their hair down....and boy, do they have long hair. Perhaps the low point or high point depending on your vantage point was Chantal straddling a chair looking like something out of Flashdance shouting at the top of her lungs, "I want some cock. Give me some cock. " She doesn't remember that. Ben was home at that point. It started at seven. Chantal was already holding onto to people as they entered. Ben took it upon himself to be the doorman and escort guests from the elevator to her pad warning them that the host was already quite drunk, but not to be afraid. People were impressed with his diplomacy. There was someone who was into home schooling. She was so enamored with Ben.She wanted to know what school he went to as he was so articulate. Oh. How could the local school do such a good job with him? Come on. I don't expect the school to do everything for my son. There are the edges. I can't get over how people froth at the mouth to get their child into the right school. In my day, I went to the school nearest me. It was that simple. You live here....and so you will go to this school. No, this woman's child is still in a buggy and she is concerned about his high school education. Whatever statistics or figures I give her, they won't be relevant when it's time for him to go to high school. She continued to wax on. I was thinking in my head....'just shut the fuck up. You said it already fifteen times.', but being diplomatic like my son, I told her to 'just shut up.' It was so relieving. And TC high-fived me for that as I think I spoke for us all.
Monday, 9 November 2015
My 500 Friends
My 500 Friends who I've known so long.
You are all so dear.
Let me sing you this song.
You can imagine it as a tune.
You can listen to u-tube while you read it.
Add Friend and Unfriend
We laugh, we cry, the end.
Twas a short and sweet
Emotional spend
as tidy as a tweet.
Spell me wrong words that make me feel right.
I'll look over them again tonight.
U an I
We follow and unfollow
Though we walk no where together
It's a place we've both been
Though you don't have to be there
to be seen.
Down country lanes
And under trees
Will you text me please?
I'll google the location
I'll meet you at the station.
Just send me a pic of that meadow.
No need to pack a picnic.
Let's pretend.
We had a sandwich there.
Under that tree.
Of February.
If we can see the whole world by only sitting in one place,
The crashes and the bombs and the poly tickle race...
If we can know all this without moving,
How are we improving?
After all that information,
You might send a box of clothes to Greece
Or you might need to vomit or shower or go home
like the luggage check people who view 5000 suitcases an hour.
Friend and unfriend, send and unsend
Our social verbs.
Our exercise with limited muscle movement.
The less muscle movement required, the more you get done, the more you can type.
The more you type, the more grief you have....no no no.
The more friends you have....sorry...correction.
More typing equals more friends.
We are socializing without even having to step out the door.
What's more convenient than staring at a screen
And thinking that you are on the scene?
There are pictures of far away places that we'll never go to.
I was in Antarctica today followed by twenty facts. I didn't notice the weather.
There wasn't much change. There was an Argentinian boy born there in 1979.
The lifespan of a social spend. Not a coffee. Not a friend.
Sober Pretender
Grab your friends by the hand.....all 500 of them.
I challenge you to recall even 50 of their names.
Our moods are tracked by graphs that say
How many people were here today.
Here today? But they were at home.
I have no doorbell anyway...Just wires.
If you know how to hotwire a car,
you can rub the two ends together
And my bell will go off.
Or just knock.
U and I
Only two letters
Better and more better.
You are all so dear.
Let me sing you this song.
You can imagine it as a tune.
You can listen to u-tube while you read it.
Add Friend and Unfriend
We laugh, we cry, the end.
Twas a short and sweet
Emotional spend
as tidy as a tweet.
Spell me wrong words that make me feel right.
I'll look over them again tonight.
U an I
We follow and unfollow
Though we walk no where together
It's a place we've both been
Though you don't have to be there
to be seen.
Down country lanes
And under trees
Will you text me please?
I'll google the location
I'll meet you at the station.
Just send me a pic of that meadow.
No need to pack a picnic.
Let's pretend.
We had a sandwich there.
Under that tree.
Of February.
If we can see the whole world by only sitting in one place,
The crashes and the bombs and the poly tickle race...
If we can know all this without moving,
How are we improving?
After all that information,
You might send a box of clothes to Greece
Or you might need to vomit or shower or go home
like the luggage check people who view 5000 suitcases an hour.
Friend and unfriend, send and unsend
Our social verbs.
Our exercise with limited muscle movement.
The less muscle movement required, the more you get done, the more you can type.
The more you type, the more grief you have....no no no.
The more friends you have....sorry...correction.
More typing equals more friends.
We are socializing without even having to step out the door.
What's more convenient than staring at a screen
And thinking that you are on the scene?
There are pictures of far away places that we'll never go to.
I was in Antarctica today followed by twenty facts. I didn't notice the weather.
There wasn't much change. There was an Argentinian boy born there in 1979.
The lifespan of a social spend. Not a coffee. Not a friend.
Sober Pretender
Grab your friends by the hand.....all 500 of them.
I challenge you to recall even 50 of their names.
Our moods are tracked by graphs that say
How many people were here today.
Here today? But they were at home.
I have no doorbell anyway...Just wires.
If you know how to hotwire a car,
you can rub the two ends together
And my bell will go off.
Or just knock.
U and I
Only two letters
Better and more better.
Thursday, 29 October 2015
Forty Five Lives now available as a print on Etsy
This one is the first in a series of mass portraits detailing the lives of a few people I have met.
To see Etsy Shop
Tuesday, 27 October 2015
Bloomsbury Festival
Saxophone in a Smokey Room
Saxophone in a smokey room sipping dark red cocktails....smooches between sets. Seated around little round tables, the couples cross-legged quietly confide in the music.
Monday, 26 October 2015
Berlin Summer 2015
We had a fabulous time in Berlin. We had a rough list of museums to pop into and cultural stopping points, but all I really wanted was to meet some friendly people....and that's what we found. That was the best part. It was the groovy day that we walked from Alexander Platz to Gorlitzer Park. First, the computer museum....Ben was in Heaven. I was in Hell. a pixelated funeral of retro games back in the days of monotone table tennis. I looked at a map of the world that corresponded with cities that offer degrees in game design. Interesting.
We strolled on to Karl Marx Allee and marveled at the grand buildings. From there, a tram to Freidrichshain. A cool hotel with lampshades made of shredded magazines. A suicide circus nightclub that looked like a jazzed-up outdoor climbing park. The East Side Gallery teaming with people and their cameras. We took a breather ducking out towards the river Spree and found a floating youth hostel boat. They had a sign outside that eloquently meant "Piss off if you aren't staying here. " And there was the Red Castle Bridge....Oberbaum Bridge. Beautiful and whimsical. We crossed the bridge and listened to the buskers strumming with their hats out. A young girl was in tears having some kind of drug induced crisis. And then, we found a big bag of spray paint just sitting there. For a moment, I thought," It's meant for us." But then, a guy came down a big ladder. As it happened, he was painting a four story mural for Nike. A professional graffiti artist. Then a ping pong beer garden. An Indian meal, a kiwi popsicle and Gorlitzer Park where we met Franzi and Hendrick from The Blue Ones. Ben was in raptures as the place where they play frisbee is a bowl and he thought that a spaceship had landed there to create it. He was commenting on the frisbee players...."That guy is a jelly belly. How did he catch that?....That guy has been playing since birth...." And he was right. There is a guy in Gorlitzer Park who plays Frisbee everyday rain, snow, or shine. We joined in and chatted with our new friends until past midnight. Hendrick was punctuating his paragraphs with a set of sit ups every five minutes. My first taste of Club Mate Soda. Good stuff.
We strolled on to Karl Marx Allee and marveled at the grand buildings. From there, a tram to Freidrichshain. A cool hotel with lampshades made of shredded magazines. A suicide circus nightclub that looked like a jazzed-up outdoor climbing park. The East Side Gallery teaming with people and their cameras. We took a breather ducking out towards the river Spree and found a floating youth hostel boat. They had a sign outside that eloquently meant "Piss off if you aren't staying here. " And there was the Red Castle Bridge....Oberbaum Bridge. Beautiful and whimsical. We crossed the bridge and listened to the buskers strumming with their hats out. A young girl was in tears having some kind of drug induced crisis. And then, we found a big bag of spray paint just sitting there. For a moment, I thought," It's meant for us." But then, a guy came down a big ladder. As it happened, he was painting a four story mural for Nike. A professional graffiti artist. Then a ping pong beer garden. An Indian meal, a kiwi popsicle and Gorlitzer Park where we met Franzi and Hendrick from The Blue Ones. Ben was in raptures as the place where they play frisbee is a bowl and he thought that a spaceship had landed there to create it. He was commenting on the frisbee players...."That guy is a jelly belly. How did he catch that?....That guy has been playing since birth...." And he was right. There is a guy in Gorlitzer Park who plays Frisbee everyday rain, snow, or shine. We joined in and chatted with our new friends until past midnight. Hendrick was punctuating his paragraphs with a set of sit ups every five minutes. My first taste of Club Mate Soda. Good stuff.
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