Neighbours, China Dolls and Tennis Socks ........

We have had new neighbours for about three weeks. 

They have a dog. 

The dog doesn't bark in the normal doggy kind of way. Instead it 'yips'. 

For the first few days the dog 'yipped' all day and half way into the night. 

On the third night it woke me up at two oclock.

Then it woke me up at three.

When it woke me up at four I lay awake for an hour deciding what I would do.

By the time I climbed out of bed at half past six I had decided that if the neighbours didn't get rid of the dog I would either: 

1) sue them, or

2) kidnap the dog, gag it with some of my old tennis socks then dump it down a mine shaft.

Of course as a kind hearted intelligent man I didn't do any of these things - after all someone might see me, or worse, recognize my tennis socks when they finally found the body.

Instead red eyed and saggy cheeked, I went and politely knocked on the neighbour's door the next morning.

But that's another story - needless to say the dead rat in this  image is a metaphor for something deep in my psyche. 

Did you know that rats belong to the genus Rattus? And the black rat is known as Rattus Rattus? Who ever said that scientists don't have imagination, eh?

About this image? It's for IF's "Silent".  As you can see it works on three different levels. The top level, the middle level, and surprisingly enough, the bottom level. I think the justification for the paradigm, is found in the imposition of the persona of the rat, mirrored of course both symbolically and metaphorically by the metallic finish on the horn, which, in some ways, the horn itself is an iconic archetype of both the horn of plenty - representing harvest, lust, and loud noises - and the God of Thunder, Thor, who had an amazing lisp, and a way with his tools. I haven't even touched on the flower patterns which came with a book of Japanese patterns, on their own DVD which was marked, Copyright, nothing in this DVD can be reproduced, I mean I ask you? How can they sell you a DVD of patterns that you can't use....? I think that's why I gave them green nipples, which to be perfectly honest, was an accident, but I thought, gee if that sicko sadistic Surrealist guy can do amputee doll sexual innuendo, the least I can do is give my dolls green nipples.....

Okay, sorry about that.I just felt like raving as the kid next door has started playing with his electric car outside my window. The car goess zzzzzzzzzzzzsiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiisssssssssssssssssssiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip, ssssssssssssdfagggggg, gggggggwwwwwww wwwippppppp every five seconds. The kid goes YOOOOOOWAAAAZAA and kind of gurgles occasionally in excitement. He sounds a little like a baboon in the last throws of a tumultuous orgasmic terminal pancreatisis.

I hope his mother poisons him accidently before I have to use my tennis socks on him. I know which would be the worse fate.

Err, just kidding. Actually my neighbors are quiet, well mannered and a joy to speak with.

The genesis of this image.

 Recently I went to our national gallery and saw an old book of photographs of dolls by Hans Belmer. Very surreal. A quick search on google gives me a lot of pseudo erotic bondage type photos so beware. This  is one of the photos in the book I saw. I didn't realise it was meant to be erotic till I saw it in the context of his other work. I just thought it was weird.... in fact maybe I shouldn't have bought it up.... but I think his work evokes an emotive response and so is worth examining for this aspect alone.

Thank you for those people who wished me well with my books. That means very much to me thank you. There was a small mention of one of my artists' books in the paper on Saturday - which is also very exciting! 

Meanwhile prayers for Jack Foster's wife who has been very ill recently. You can wish him well at Jacktoons if you like.

Jack's a good bloke and a very funny guy and I'm sure he'd appreciate your prayers more than you imagine.

The Devil's Organ, Art's Fairy Tail Houses, Carousel Horse

The Day Father Georgus Oppenheimer Discovered the Parchment Aeroplane

Dies Abbas George primoris folded a piece of membrana down medius quod threw is in aer, eram a valde dies pro mankind. Is eram , vero , nocens pro suus umerus humerus.

The day Brother George first folded a piece of pointy parchment down the middle and threw it in the air was indeed a great day for mankind. It did, however, give him a sore shoulder after a while.

Suus matris wore exercitus tabernus , praeter ut is pluvia tunc is wore rutilus galoshes. Suus frater Francisca quoque eram insolitus. Francisca amo lambo via per suus lingua , singulariter ut is eram fervens satis pro tar tabesco.

Brother George came from a family of geniuses. For example: his mother wore army boots, but when it rained she wore bright red galoshes. His brother Frankis also was unusual. Frankis loved to lick the road with his tongue, especially on days when it was hot enough to melt the  tar. He loved the taste of ashfelt - it helped to think.

Unus dies a liitle puer nomen Roger venit in urbs. Frater George no Roger tondeo suus caput capitis , quoniam Roger had licentia. Is had quoque had a nocens theca of foetidus feet quod haud perficio could redintegro.

One day a little boy named Roger came  into town. Brother George took Roger under his arm - though the little boy had head lice. There was another problem in that the  boy had very bad smelling feet that even the best perfume could not fix.

Eventually Frater George subpono super Roger's foetidus feet quod they quoniam bonus amicitia. Tunc miserabile abbatis evestigatus suum amicitia quod had George prehendo.

But Brother George was a Saint and eventually grew used to the boy's feet and they became good friends. Then the local Abbot discovered this and became jealous. He had Brother George arrested.

Is eram a tristis dies pro mankind ut dies. tunc dies they reperio Illustration Friday , ut Andrew could planto pictures quod write lacuna in Latin ut no haud voluntas.

While Brother George was in prison mankind invented Illustration Friday - as a reward for him inventing the 'parchment aeroplane'. It became a win win situation, especially for Andrew, who could  now pretend he knew how to write Latin, and insert silly sentences between his images.

Insquequo is venit ut permaneo picture. Is picture est idem eadem idem scaena ut supremus , tamen sulum has dies in vomica , salvifico bovis anf egredior quisnam eloped quod had septem liberi.

Luckily Andrew ran out of pictures and could give the Google translator a rest. The Google translator is very good for French, but at Latin translation it sucks.

Gratias ago vos pro lectio. Vos have valde nice magnus noses quod EGO sum umquam memor.

He would like to thank you for looking at his work. His nose has grown longer in the making of this post and he would like to apologise to Roberto, Linda, Karen and Rossicheeka :)


Gee, I've had to start using google chrome as Explorer won't let me comment on blogger!

Phenomenon

Oh dear, just got back, the surf was rotten, the sand is stuck in my right ear, I am brown as brown toad and have lost so much weight that my head reminds me of Iggy Pop (on a bad hair day).

Anyway, thank you for all those great comments on that last one. You are very patient to read my ramblings.

Checking out  everyone's blogs now and I see I have missed some zingers  whilst I have been away.

You know, the thing that gets me about blogging is how I see all the artists improving so much. It's like : "hey, there is an audience, some one is looking, so I better pull something out of the hat."

And so hats off to you.

You know who you are. I bet you can feel it in your bones.

Gee I'm getting a  warm fuzzy feeling in my left ankle. 

Better quit  while I'm a head. (What image does that last sentence make in your mind?)

Oh, this is my image for Illustration Friday "Phenomenon".

Originally I had a bunch of kids playing with a Ouijie Board summoning up Uncle Arthur wrapped in a sheet and looking like a primal Ectoplasm. The file I was working with was about 2.5 Gig - and takes about fifteen minutes plus to save. So, of course, being a boy, I only saved it once in the course of the morning.

Ugh. No need to tell you what happened.

Thanks so much for looking.

See you at your blogs.

:)

PS: yes the image has something to do with Phenomenon. I had to make, let' see, one two three four five ... ten new kids for it. 

Should have been eleven eh? :)

How Uncle Arthur Caught Crabs

In the depression years Uncle Arthur, Gretel's father's twin brother, would often drop in unexpectedly to Gretel's house with some crabs he'd caught in the swamp.

Like Uncle Arthur's manner of dress, his method of catching crabs was unique.

Dressed in his normal everyday clothes (man pictured on left), he'd wade into the middle of the swamp wearing his crab catcher's hat (also pictured). There he would wait humming quietly, till he saw some tell tale bubbles coming up from between the roots of the mangroves.

Then he'd freeze. His face would freeze, his hands would freeze, his body would freeze. For a moment he would become, as they say, "at one with the swamp."

Then, usually within a two minute period, if conditions were right, up from the bottom of the swamp, in a great concophanical mountain of bubbles would float, one, and sometimes two, big blue-swimmer crabs.

The crabs would float on the surface of the water, staring up into Uncle Arthur's weird blue eyes, till he'd scoop them up in his crab catcher's hat. Once in his hat they would struggle and click and clack their claws together like captured tabby cats waking up in the back of an Rspca van.  But of course, by then, it was too late.

Now Uncle Arthur claimed he had the rare gift of Crab Whispering - which, he said, was kind of like horse whispering and water divining - except you did it with crabs. And it was more fun because you got to eat the crab later. Which was hard with horses, because once you'd whispered a horse up, then the last thing you'd want to do was eat it. Or so Uncle Arthur claimed. And no-one would ever dream about eating their divining stick - unless they had good teeth.

Needless to say, Crab Whispering or no, his neighbours claimed something else, and had accused him on more than one occasion of 'being mighty friendly with some of the younger good looking horses' in their back paddocks - especially on moon lit nights when the horses were too scared to go anywhere near the swamp lest the drop bears get 'em.

Of course that was all horse rot and hear say and Uncle Arthur's best friend, Wodger C. Wurmold, happened to be a barrister of law. And that very fact, mentioned in a polite screaming match with Uncle Arthur's neighbours, was enough to put the knocker on any mention of his amorous horse loving antics - true or otherwise - that his neighbours might be claiming.

But, regardless of his equus amor vincit omnia,  the sad thing about Uncle Arthur was his pet rodent - which was named 'Doink', after his mother- in-law.

Now Uncle Arthur couldn't go anywhere without the illustrious "Doink". In fact Doink was prone to popping up here, there - and, embaressingly, everywhere.

Once in the soup, once in the apple pie, and, incredably, once in the front of Uncle Arthur's trousers - when he'd forgot to check them for either echidnas (which love to hide in trousers) or Doink.

Of course that latter case was the most innapropriate and it goes without saying that no more will be said about that episode - just that the entire church choir (where Uncle Arthur sang 'sub-baritone solo') stopped singing in the middle of Handel's Messiah when Doink poked his head from the front of Uncle Arthur's trousers.

Even the Queen Mother, who happened to be visiting Lower Cessnock Cathedral at the time, seemed suitably unimpressed....

But that, my friends will have to be another post (see "How Doink Met the Queen Mother" Uncle Arthur's Memoirs, VOl2. Page 345)

Thank you for looinking and watch out for Doink if you click for big!


PS This one for welovetoillustrate. An amazing concaphony of talent there be lies there!

Oh, I forgot to mention the flies, didn't I? Uncle Arthur was adept at catching flies. That's why you rarely saw him with his mouth shut.