- a roll of brown paper
- a lint (dog hair) remover roller thingo
- a pack of neurofen
- a manila envelope with info on counselling courses
- two comic books
- a single 1970s smoked glass tumbler
- a roll of toilet paper
- a Fijian axe
- two sexy red spoons
- an empty glasses case
- an Edward Gorey book
- a Peggy Honeywell CD
- a delicious magazine
- the packaging from the awesome 70s cutlery that we scoobed off my mum in law
- nail polish of various colours
Tuesday 27 September 2011
Move me.
You know you are losing your moving momentum when you cross the threshold from neatly packed and labelled boxes to a random assortment of unrelated items shoved into any available receptacle. For example, sitting at my feet right now is a kind of beach-picnic-insulated-cooler-bag that hasn't seen the light of day for some time. In this bag are -
Saturday 24 September 2011
The space in between.
I don't really feel like I live anywhere right now. My brain is frothing to get into the new house, my heart has definitely flown the coop and my physical body is sitting here amongst the chaos fighting the urge to just lie down on the floor and wile away the hours dreaming of colour and checking on the design files.
And it's pouring. This is not a helpful incentive for cracking on with the pointy end of move preparation. Today it's the kitchen. My helpful husband has done some of the kitcheny bits already but I will be tackling the crockery and glassware armed with a mountain of newspaper and a sturdy disposition. Come to think of it, my disposition may need to be bolstered by a mountainous cafe breakfast before I can truly apply myself to the complexities of packing box politics.
In my down time yesterday I continued my search for some drawers that are not hideously awful as we need more clothes storage at the new place. This is due to the fact that we have very strategically purchased a home which has no storage in it at all. Not a sausage. Apart from kitchen cupboards. So, drawers are required. My question is, how come every single affordable second hand item of mid century furniture is in Melbourne? I mean, I know they are cooler than us and everything but I hadn't realised that this extended to a total monopoly on every single item I wanted to bid on from ebay. Seriously. I could have furnished my entire house in three days if only I lived in Fitzroy and wore desert boots and was studying architecture and enjoyed restoring vintage fixed gear bicycles.
So. Here are some of the things I found along the way that I do not have geographical access to, and cannot afford. But I'm not even sad that I can't afford them because really, it's a joy just to look at them. They're all from a beautiful store called retrocloud.
And it's pouring. This is not a helpful incentive for cracking on with the pointy end of move preparation. Today it's the kitchen. My helpful husband has done some of the kitcheny bits already but I will be tackling the crockery and glassware armed with a mountain of newspaper and a sturdy disposition. Come to think of it, my disposition may need to be bolstered by a mountainous cafe breakfast before I can truly apply myself to the complexities of packing box politics.
In my down time yesterday I continued my search for some drawers that are not hideously awful as we need more clothes storage at the new place. This is due to the fact that we have very strategically purchased a home which has no storage in it at all. Not a sausage. Apart from kitchen cupboards. So, drawers are required. My question is, how come every single affordable second hand item of mid century furniture is in Melbourne? I mean, I know they are cooler than us and everything but I hadn't realised that this extended to a total monopoly on every single item I wanted to bid on from ebay. Seriously. I could have furnished my entire house in three days if only I lived in Fitzroy and wore desert boots and was studying architecture and enjoyed restoring vintage fixed gear bicycles.
So. Here are some of the things I found along the way that I do not have geographical access to, and cannot afford. But I'm not even sad that I can't afford them because really, it's a joy just to look at them. They're all from a beautiful store called retrocloud.
Friday 23 September 2011
Monday 12 September 2011
Just to clarify...
Just in case you are thinking I am some kind of insane person who goes to weddings and thinks it's all about art, the most best reason I liked this wedding was not actually to do with me and my nerdy art breakthroughs. The real best thing about his wedding was seeing two completely delightful humans jump around in a bucket full of happy and be so fabulously cool and gorgeous and in love. That was the real art. Congratulations Katishe and Gareth, you guys are unreal.
Revelatory art breakthrough bonanza. With doilies.
On the weekend, I went to a wedding. I drove a long way to a beautiful place and went for a walk on the beach and then saw my friend be super happy with her handsome man-husband. And there was cake.
I liked this wedding for many reasons. One reason was the cake. Another was the girl with the immaculate black bob, seamed stockings, red lipstick and killer curves. Yet another was the wind-up-toy wars which erupted as the night wore on. But the special reason I liked this wedding was that it made me see myself in a slightly new way. And that is a very neat trick.
Because I gave art as a gift. Art that I made with my own hands, and a bit of help from Dave at the printing place. This means I was able to suspend my judgment of myself as not a person who makes art, and see myself as someone who might possibly make art and may even be confident enough about the art to give it to someone else. This was kind of amazing to me.
And my very special friend Sally Jackson did things to my getting-married-friend's dress with doilies that you would not believe. She made doily art and it was the best. So here are some photos of it.
I liked this wedding for many reasons. One reason was the cake. Another was the girl with the immaculate black bob, seamed stockings, red lipstick and killer curves. Yet another was the wind-up-toy wars which erupted as the night wore on. But the special reason I liked this wedding was that it made me see myself in a slightly new way. And that is a very neat trick.
Because I gave art as a gift. Art that I made with my own hands, and a bit of help from Dave at the printing place. This means I was able to suspend my judgment of myself as not a person who makes art, and see myself as someone who might possibly make art and may even be confident enough about the art to give it to someone else. This was kind of amazing to me.
And my very special friend Sally Jackson did things to my getting-married-friend's dress with doilies that you would not believe. She made doily art and it was the best. So here are some photos of it.
Monday 5 September 2011
Holey dooley.
So, for a few of you who have very kindly been following along since the beginning, you will know that the story of the aardvark is all about the attempted awakening of my dormant creative brain. Dormant believed deceased, in fact. I have been experimenting with creative projects and having oodles of fun blowing on the glowing embers of my mind. Painting, tick. Photography, tick. Poetry, tick. Singing, tick. (Haha! Didn't tell you about the singing. Secret singing.) Crocheting, tick. I may have even briefly contemplated a musical instrument. But now, at last, I have come across a project which has me absolutely hooked and gasping like a speckled trout. I wanted a creative project to work on. Okay, hows about a whole entire house.
Cause that's what happens when you buy one. Quite suddenly, every single aesthetic concept you have been secretly squirreling away in your brain for the last decade wants to haul ass out of your head and get a hearing. This makes it quite difficult to sleep.
I don't know about you, but I grew up in my mother's house. And she was totally in charge of what that place looked like. I mean, it was nice and had some art and some cool rugs and stuff, but household aesthetics were firmly in control of the matriarch. And fair enough too. I would have had life size Kenny Loggins posters for living room wallpaper if I'd had my way. And after leaving my mum's house, I lived in rental houses for my whole life. Dozens and dozens of them. Which means that when I move into our new house in about 3 weeks time, it will be the first time ever in my life that I am actually in charge of what my house looks like. Mind boggling, yes?
Thus, every morning when my eyes snap open, my brain just continues it's unstoppable monologue as if sleep had been nothing more than a brief lapse in concentration. Inside my brain, it sounds a bit like this, ".....and then the Parker could go against the side wall and oh my god what if Jimmy made us one of those built in bench seats right under the dining room window and it could have storage under it and I think we should pull out the weird shrubbery beside the garage cause it would make a good herb garden if it gets enough sun and the bathroom I'm thinking seriously charcoal with gloss white window frames or is that all a bit twee the grey thing is so borderline overused right now but soft soft pearly grey maybe like baby rabbit fur grey and I wonder about a headboard I mean what is the purpose of them anyway but what if it was a bookshelf headboard just like a bookshelf built around the bed shape and then it could have the ceramic bunnies on top oh no they might fall down so perhaps the softie collection could live there and we'll need at least two more magnetic knife holders I could get those wooden ones from etsy that I love and really the only wall long enough for the giant bookshelf will be in the dining room and what if I painted the wardrobe white and put the jackalope decals on it...."
Who knew it would be so insanely, immensely fun to be able to think about this stuff? I mean, painting classes were fun but this, this is a whole other packet of squid. Mmmmm, squid chips.
Cause that's what happens when you buy one. Quite suddenly, every single aesthetic concept you have been secretly squirreling away in your brain for the last decade wants to haul ass out of your head and get a hearing. This makes it quite difficult to sleep.
I don't know about you, but I grew up in my mother's house. And she was totally in charge of what that place looked like. I mean, it was nice and had some art and some cool rugs and stuff, but household aesthetics were firmly in control of the matriarch. And fair enough too. I would have had life size Kenny Loggins posters for living room wallpaper if I'd had my way. And after leaving my mum's house, I lived in rental houses for my whole life. Dozens and dozens of them. Which means that when I move into our new house in about 3 weeks time, it will be the first time ever in my life that I am actually in charge of what my house looks like. Mind boggling, yes?
Thus, every morning when my eyes snap open, my brain just continues it's unstoppable monologue as if sleep had been nothing more than a brief lapse in concentration. Inside my brain, it sounds a bit like this, ".....and then the Parker could go against the side wall and oh my god what if Jimmy made us one of those built in bench seats right under the dining room window and it could have storage under it and I think we should pull out the weird shrubbery beside the garage cause it would make a good herb garden if it gets enough sun and the bathroom I'm thinking seriously charcoal with gloss white window frames or is that all a bit twee the grey thing is so borderline overused right now but soft soft pearly grey maybe like baby rabbit fur grey and I wonder about a headboard I mean what is the purpose of them anyway but what if it was a bookshelf headboard just like a bookshelf built around the bed shape and then it could have the ceramic bunnies on top oh no they might fall down so perhaps the softie collection could live there and we'll need at least two more magnetic knife holders I could get those wooden ones from etsy that I love and really the only wall long enough for the giant bookshelf will be in the dining room and what if I painted the wardrobe white and put the jackalope decals on it...."
Who knew it would be so insanely, immensely fun to be able to think about this stuff? I mean, painting classes were fun but this, this is a whole other packet of squid. Mmmmm, squid chips.
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