Saturday, December 2, 2017

Being here.



It is always a point of discussion in my head to decide on what the first word of a blog entry should be. Like it is the most important and enticing part of the post itself. When its not important at all really. In fact it's been a very long time since I have had that discussion as my time using this medium to write shit has been few and far between. Over a year actually.

So I maybe a little ordinary in my delivery. But somehow I feel superior and mature since my last writings, as if I have grown and become more wiser and intelligent. Not true of course, I have likely become more bitter and cynical, somehow mistaking that for insightful integrity and wisdom. Although in my defence some really strange shit has happened globally in the past year that has made me contemplate the sanity of all people. You just could not for see the things that have occurred, except if you were the writer for the Simpsons. Because man that show was spot on in it's portrayal of the worlds crazy demise.

I'm wondering though if blogging had a hand in killing humanity. Just too many opinions and thoughts piling up in the world, confusing the fuck out of the simple things. Ahhhh simplicity, the long lost lover for us all.

The Twittering, Face-booking and Instagramming, the status updates and the what's on your mind Rebekah... All prompting us to join in with fleeting contributions of sharing our everyday moments. Which really, mostly, should be left in the dark spaces of our thoughts to flitter away and disintegrate with the unknown exploding stars in the universe.

Oh and the comments. The fucking comments, they are the most trivial pointless time wasting despicable aspects of social conversations on-line. Each person believing their comment can change the masses opinions and really get their message across. All of us trying to be heard in a mass of squirming outrage on that particular issue .. where it will be a distant memory by the next day. A shameless fantasy world of our egotistical self that we sprout all over the net without accountability, respect and authenticity. And then the Trolls. Actual people, not trolls at all. Real life people that are amongst us everyday that spend their time invested in this damaging, transparent display of baiting, whilst they believe it is their right to terrorise others. All behind the mask of an elusion of what they think their life is, when whats left is a very sick human.

So maybe blogging was the beginning of the end. As the mutations grew and took hold of the quick click social media that stole the charm of blogging and turned it into the frenzy of look here, see me... inviting the shiny sparkly in with the dark seedy instant scrolling and sharing of information that has swallowed our intimacy and sensibility.

When I used to blog regularly I would take up to two days to think out a blog post and then draft it, re-write it, re-read it and then add thoughtful story photos to enhance the words and the feelings I was trying to convey. To be fucking mindful about what I put into this world.

But at the same time there was this very small part of me that tugged at the base of my top, like... are you sure this is good, are you sure writing some of your most in depth personal thoughts is ok to do on the net... where will it end. The question was also the dilemma to make it a business or do it for yourself. The struggle between taking it to which point and what purpose. I don't read blogs anymore, apart from one. I'll never stop reading hers, but she too struggles with life, trauma and where that fits into the world. So her wonderful words are rare now too.

Sometimes I just wonder at who's mowing the old peoples lawns, whose chopping wood for their little fires and cleaning their gutters. If all of our time is spent checking Instagram and Facebook and scrolling and searching for things on the Internet. Who's visiting the elders that probably sit at their own computers not really understanding most of this cyberspace with aloneness in their hearts and waiting for humans to visit and just drink tea.

Not knowing what the future will be is ok, feeling as though the future is doomed is not ok. Most of the time I believe in the good, but then there are other days...


Tuesday, October 25, 2016

Time

I currently have 38 minutes before  I need to step into action for the day. Is this enough time to bang out a blog post of coherent structure? Lets see.

I just don't know where to start. So much stuff! Oh man this world, its just too much. Its like a circus of egos running around with insane ridiculousness and then the world listens, I mean actually takes this shit seriously and like feeds it... with like Proton pills. Except we don't feed it to Roger we feed them to gangster Noodles Romanoff  and his evil organisation. Yeah ok, not making much sense and I have only 12 minutes to wrap this post up. Time is not my friend anymore.

Speak soon.

Friday, July 8, 2016

Hi I'm Rex,

I once was a blogger that figured stuff out by writting about it here on this blog. Some how I ran out of puff. I desperately want my puff back. Well anyway here I am attempting to reclaim my unfurling thoughts once again in this tiny crevice of the Internet. I thought pirates may have absconded with my blog name by now and turned this into some porno site. But it's still here. Yay. Which is forcing me to take it as a sign to crawl out of my cave and brave the light.


Heres a photo of a our new metal staircase Wayne made for our house extentions. Swisho.


.

Cheers Rex.

Sunday, February 21, 2016

Memory recall.

Trigger me. C'mon have a go.

Cover me like violent snow.

Ice my heart with frosted visions.

Ignite my redundant memory.

Permit the rage of pain and fire.

Burn the haze and defrost the truth.

I can take it now. I'm stuck in no mire.

Let me see it. Let me feel it.

Don't give me halves an quarters.

I'm the earths innocent daughter.

Born to trust the arms that held me.

But slaughtered by premature exposure.

My mind shut off.

Skipping over all the land-mines to exist in wonderland.

Lost to the majestic birds in that make believe land.

But I cant live there anymore.

I need a truth that will set me straight.

Hit me with that recall, anytime, anyplace.










Monday, February 15, 2016

A way to reach out.

The time is looping so fast now, can't seem to slow it. 

Day in day out, the sameness is throbbing through the house hold. Yet so many changes have transpired in this past year amongst our standard routines.  I see my reflection, and its clear how fast my time is moving and I don't know where to cast my eyes. I see our bubble, a life of absolute privilege. Do we even do it justice. Do we do all we can to share our bubble of privileged air? Or do we hold it close and guard it, scared that it will drift away on a care free breeze or be suddenly popped by unforeseen barbs? Are we just as selfish as all that we hate, or are we just preachers for all that we love? 

So I read the news and all I see are dead bodies being found or dead bodies gone missing or children charged with murder or billions worth of drugs being discovered. I see our leaders being mediocre just like me. Why read the news I say to myself. Just because its not happening to me it doesn't mean I shouldn't be aware, and then with this knowledge what should I do, and what could I do… What action should I take. Should I write about it? making it art with my words of storytelling, is that even fair? 

And so I sit in front of this screen so detached from much of the world. Deciding that the words I write will bring me to action. Somehow in someway. 

It's a way to reach out. 





Thursday, November 12, 2015

Paint me whole

I saw the crevice in the mountain. The burnt trees and scorched rocks, shaded in charcoal and earthly reds. Shadows casting across the divide that inexplicably tear at my heart.

My soft ancient heart.

Wanting to jusitfy it all in paint and pencil. To covey the beauty and enable others to see what I see. To converse with mediums of basic creation.

Close my eyes and share the tragedy.

Tell a story of truth encrusted in my bones and skin. As the angry little fire still flickers. Forever wanting to release myself to the soaring of wings through an open and brilliant sky.

Please paint me whole.


Tuesday, March 24, 2015

a worthy creation

What does that even mean? What makes a thing be of worth?

I'm currently eating dried Pear pieces that have just come out of the dehydrator and pondering my lack of dedication to this blog.

I found a video a while ago and posted it. Today I'm going to post it again, cause I feel like it.


Monday, January 12, 2015

If earth walked into a shop.

How you going Earth? Are you all good?

You ok?

Do you need some help? Just sing out if I can help you with anything?

Oh you just looking….  No worries.

Nice bit of rain we just had. Need some more though. Really need that moisture to soak in. Do you think you could help us out with that? Because the weather seems a bit all over the place dude. I know your busy just trying to keep the air clean so us humans can at least breathe. And I know… we just keep on fucking it up and polluting the shit out of everything. Sucking our resources dry. We're really very stupid and don't seem to understand that we are annihilating ourselves.

Do you think we could stop turning on each other one day? Do you believe in that? Is that even possible?

I'm just not sure anymore. Once I did believe in us.

But, now everything seems a bit out of control. Like we are really losing the plot. I mean, literally losing our place. Destroying our own habitat. And completely crushing humanity.

Makes me really sad. It's hard to find the sense somedays.

Oh, ok, no worries, just browsing, sorry didn't mean to get all sentimental and deep… yep you too, have a nice day, thanks.  

Thursday, January 1, 2015

Document my life?

I still don't get it. The need to keep this space as an attempt to share my voice.
It seems ridiculous to continue but unthinkable to cease. So if I'm going to be here slogging out my thoughts from time to time, I resolve to rebuild it into a worthy creation, and a bit of a fresh start.

There are many things in ones life - A journey that is our own - Yet completely interwoven with others.

________________________

Be truthful to yourself.
Making you vulnerable to emotions.

Do things that teach you about the human spirit.
By opening your heart wide and loving hard. So hard.

If your in it.
Be completely in it.

Shed your skins.
Revealing who you are.

Free yourself from your preconceived ideas.
Then your children will be free.

Then you will be free.
__________________________







                                                Happy starfish wishing for 2015.

Monday, October 6, 2014

Shit it's october!


I had plans to post more in september. But that came and went and now it is October!

Anyway, we keep finding bird nests around the place. They present themselves to me one way or another. So I don't know if the universe is telling me something.. a sign maybe. Or, we are just finding bird nests around the place. Who knows. But they are very pretty and amazing little art pieces.

See!

This one is a swallows nest under the shed roof. And when I hopped up on chair and stuck my phone over it to take a snap to see in, I was delighted to see these speckled little eggs.







The one is made from Emu feathers, wool, horse poo, wattle twigs and blossoms. It blew down from one of the faraway trees intact and unused. But so spectacular!





So even though I missed september I found bird nests. 
Thats gotta count for something.

Seeya.


Saturday, August 9, 2014

Recycling stuff is so rewarding and can save our existence.

We have a little Hut/Studio in the bush near the wetlands in front of our cottage. You can click here to see its resurrection.

For the time being I have claimed it as a space to draw, write and paint. We have used only recycled materials and patched up holes with copper, mesh, microwave glass and all sorts of scrappy things. The kids painted all over the walls with me and it continues to be a changing canvas.















It's been a rather cold winter and to take the chill out of the air down at the Hut I asked Wayne to build me a tiny wood heater that I could keep alight with the sticks from the bush around me.

And he came up with this beauty….





Using a broken pressure tank from a pump and metal legs off an old cart. All of the parts are reused from discarded metal. Everything recycled, even the little wooden handle. Sourced from Wayne's collected scrap pile of goodies.



Here it is being installed with some salvaged tiles as the flooring. We had to burn her in to remove the paint off the tank and she was ready to go. Threw out great warmth and took little effort to get going and heat up. As my time spent down there is in short bursts it is perfect for a little heat, quickly.  We will put some old mini orb behind it and hopefully get it pumping a couple of times a week.

I know. Awesome.

Tuesday, July 1, 2014

Hear me, universe.


Heart flushed with heat. Eyes smouldering the colour of moss.

Hot coals inhabiting my chest. 

But my lips, are sealed like pale pink ice.


Flames in my throat. 

Burning the words, and singeing my voice.

Ashes afloat from a childhood. Softly drifting into reality. 


Memories lost on a sandy trail. 

Unearthed, later. Down the long and dusty track. 

Wearing away the journey. Leading to exposure. 


Shattering it all. Like arrows to the heart. 

I hear your wish universe.


Standing in the land of my raising, and all the untold stories. 

Peoples faces from long ago. Appearing in my new reality. 

A twist of fate. Bringing me from obscurity. 


Challenge me, I say. Expose my voice then.  

I'm strong in my place.






Monday, June 16, 2014

Have a listen.




                                               
 


Thanks Luca for bringing these dudes to our attention.
Really good stuff. x

Monday, May 12, 2014

Glass on the wire.

There is something so perfect and real about these photos that make me all relaxed and soft inside. Maybe it's the way the glass melts into the blue sky, or how it bends gently reaching out to nothing.




The way the wrapped metal supports, and lifts it up in the air. Giving, and allowing it to be exposed. But still safely held and secured with the wire.



Or the way the glass is transparent and strong. Solid and vulnerable.
Maybe it's replicating each of us, as the complex humans we are.



Feel free to use these photos for your desktop or screen saver…. or whatever. There of good definition so can be enlarged. Just felt like sharing something tangible today. 

And if you would like to see more of this glass and metal combo you can go to Wayne's Facebook community page.

Monday, April 14, 2014

Amiss - is my writing.


I'v tried to write here a dozen times, but however way I try, it feels so unsatisfactory. So I delete and try again. But nothing is working. The topic feels wrong, the substance seems empty and my style wanky. Everything seems pretentious and shallow.

My focus is lost. It feels a bit like flailing in the deep dark ocean, where the waves are crashing at me and I can't see behind me, or in front of me. And all I hear is the water rushing through my ears.

Even as I am writing this, I'm belittling it to a microscopic piece of dust. It has no meaning, no beginning, no ending. It's all over the place.

It feels like this blog is a luxury, that I don't deserve. That it is sub-standard, wasteful and pointless.

All I can do is be honest, and be me.

I am tired of holding it all close, but wanting to let it all out.

I am adrift, and can not unfurl my Ideas, thoughts, frustrations, art, future and past. Everything.

So. I'm taking a break, until I can get my shit together.