the Fitzroy Flasher

art and ideas: photos and words: mainly and sometimes.

The sun

November 21, 2015


Our sun it lights 

What we mark off:

Each day –

And we go on.

Our lives we bite

Our own part of:

Each day –

And we go on.

It’s in our hearts, 

It’s in our breasts,

And beats 

In every bodies chest:

It is this day,

It is our sun:

This life –

And we go on.

The top drawer metaphor

November 13, 2015


What is in yours? 

It’s a bit like show us your undies, 

Only more personal.

What’s in mine ? 

Hearing aid batteries

Shoe store  bookmark –

With a link to the website 

That you obviously cannot hyperlink

However, there is also an iPad 

Tucked away 10 minutes ago

By my  OCD lover. And wife

A heartcore bookmark

Advil and Ovale 

Band aids

Sony voucher

Fake Raybans 

Real Williamsburgs

A velocity card

VCAT order

Wrist brace

Eye masks 

Black pen

Orange nail polish

Red card: Kung Hei Fat Choi! 

(Prof Ziggy – Viggie I miss you)

USB cables

Phoenix catalogue

A visa debit card 

And I don’t know the pin

Antique parchment paper 

With a note from the dog walker

And a voucher for two: A buffalo escape

Endota spa massage cream

Headphones

A myki card

Ear plugs

My script for those pills:

The ones that make me happy

Or less not happy 

Or do they even work? 

A tea light

A nail file

A green peg

A silver key

This is my top drawer- 

A chaotic metaphor 

For mine, and me.

Kaff’s Ashes 

November 13, 2015


2 more days

the Fitzroy Flasher

She quit her day job. I would consider most people a bit rash for doing this. Particularly anyone lucky enough to have a Law Degree and the common sense to back it up.Not our Kaff though. When she announced her plan we were sitting on a couch bathing in social media and sunlight. I listened to her reasoned argument and thought, yes, that is completely what this denim short wearing vegetarian with helmet hair should do.  It was lead by her heart but her head was engaged. She knew what she needed to do. The law degree helped, so did that savant like talent she has to master any medium she has a crack at.   Which brings us past many exhibitions, book illustrations, hair raisingly dangerous travels, needy cat crusades, car troubles, fatigue, infectious diseases, increasingly tattooed skin, to now. The list of misadventures would be the downfall of…

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Kaff’s Ashes 

November 7, 2015


She quit her day job. I would consider most people a bit rash for doing this. Particularly anyone lucky enough to have a Law Degree and the common sense to back it up.Not our Kaff though. When she announced her plan we were sitting on a couch bathing in social media and sunlight. I listened to her reasoned argument and thought, yes, that is completely what this denim short wearing vegetarian with helmet hair should do.  It was lead by her heart but her head was engaged. She knew what she needed to do. The law degree helped, so did that savant like talent she has to master any medium she has a crack at.   Which brings us past many exhibitions, book illustrations, hair raisingly dangerous travels, needy cat crusades, car troubles, fatigue, infectious diseases, increasingly tattooed skin, to now. The list of misadventures would be the downfall of most and yet we see this refined, grown up, evolved creature has truly emerged from the ashes. I know she says Phoenix aptly describes the people of the outskirts of Manila who she met and fell in love with. And yes completely, this is portrayed beautifully in her drawing collaborations, as well as in Gerick and Geloy’s incredible doco.

Geloy and one of his photographic works

What she doesn’t  realise though is that she is also that mythical creature, with baddass battle scars to prove it. A middle class gangster denouncing all boundaries because they become irrelevant when you deconstruct them.  I assumed she might die in this transformative time. Or she might fail. Well, she did not fail or die. But transform she did.   It was Kaff-eine the humanitarian returned from that first trip. One of the first things she said to me was that people need to see how vibrant these communities are. She was incensed that we as a planet ignore slum dwellers, and make assumptions about them that – it turns out – are untrue and hugely unfair.    No western person that I can think of before her would have even been there, risking being shot, kidnapped, robbed and vanished. But she gave in to that vulnerability and because she did, she was welcomed wholeheartedly by  impoverished, marginalised strangers with stories of love, loss, grief, ambition and strength. They let her in, and loved her like we do, and now we have this awesome collaborative project to watch and support.

Links for more info:

All Those Shapes take on it

Kaff-eine

ABC radio

The Guardian

The Race To Be 

October 29, 2015


I remember a Scientific American article circa 1980 something about the physiological ‘race to be male’. An exploratory piece about the in utero foetal development of us, and how we all start female. And some become male. Now it makes sense to use these words in this clinical context to describe a physiological process at the core of sexual reproduction. But that’s where that language starts and finishes in terms of its usefulness, for me.

I remember an early crush. Shannon. White blond hair, falling casually over dark brown eyes. The most wicked backspin I ever saw, and the only helicopter I saw anyone under 13 perform. I was 10. I never knew Shannon’s gender but it was love at first sight. That kid had the moves, the baggy jeans and my heart. The words male and female had no place in this romance across the cardboard breakdancer square.

So it interests me, or maybe irritates me, that Germaine Greer seems completely sure she knows gender. And she sure as fuck thinks she has the authority and platform to explain it. So basically it is this. White, middle class female babies are born. They live a privileged suburban life. Maybe publish a book about ‘boys’ that should be classified as paedophilic, after a career that benefits white middle class woman.  That, folks, is 100 percent where women start and end. And heaven help you fools out there who have a misapprehension that maybe there’s a bit more fluidity in it than that. 

To clarify, woman, born with vaginas into middle class suburbia, are a race. There is no other reality. They are a white, wealthy, tertiary educated race who grew vaginas in utero.  So if you are a white, rich woman with a vagina obtained in utero, feel free to use analogies about wanting to ‘switch species’. Like if you wanted to be a dog, that is completely the same as being a human woman. Sorry, a pretend human woman. Or a pretend human? That part of her point seems less clear.

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