Minnie the Monster Part 3

Yet somehow now, on this all important first day of school, Minnie was not feeling so safe; she felt afraid and exposed, like a little naked newborn bird left abandoned by her mother in the nest. She wished that her mother walked beside her up those ominous shelves of concrete stairs that seemed to grow taller with every step, shielding her with her slim, hard body through which the questioning hawk eyes that children have could not penetrate. Their narrowed lids sliced through her threadbare purple and blue disguise like razor blades, daring her to speak a word to them. As she stood in front of class, her little body trembling within its furry shell against the looming blackness of the chalkboard, as if she were facing a firing squad, and the smothering ivy of self doubt snaked over her soft, pink, rosebud of unassuming exuberant youth, crushing it until there was only a lingering perfume, not sweet floral but a mixture of cold sweat and salty tears. The creature that had stood so tall and powerful in the supernatural flurrying shadows of Halloween shrank in fear against the harsh light of reality. In the darkness we are afraid of branches tapping against our window panes, creaking floorboards and the unknown wasteland of under the bed, but in the daylight, it is each other whom we fear most of all.
The nashing of their white pebble teeth, the savage stamping of their feet on the yellow parquet floor, the laughter and the cries of “Little Monster, Little Minnie Monster” that rang out across the asphalt and fibreglass jungle of the playground were echoing in Minnie’s head as she opened the heavy red door of her mother’s station wagon. Her mother took one look at the crestfallen expression on her daughters face and the torn strap of her beloved Batman and Robin backpack and exclaimed “Oh, Minnie. What did you do?” in a tone that leaked annoyance and frustration. Minnie stayed silent, pouring all her concentration into keeping the tears back behind the barrier of her eyelids, and ignored her mother the entire way home. As soon as Minnie’s mother pulled into the parking garage of their apartment complex, Minnie leapt out of the car and sprinted up the four flights of stairs, breaking herself into her own house to escape a barrage of questions she was sure to face but could not bare to answer; her mother followed her not out of concern but out of exasperation, yet when she reached her daughters room she found it barricaded against her. Minnie was already inside, pulling the heads off all her plastic blonde Barbie dolls and throwing them out the window.
However, after a volcanic flood of pent up tears and a brief experiment with her own hair and glitter glue, Minnie decided to embrace her monstrous reputation. She still insisted on wearing her monster costume to school, and she would not even let her mother take it from her to wash it, in fear that she would throw it in the trash; each night when she took it off to go to bed, she would hide it in a new clandestine place, one that her mother could never find, no matter how hard she tried. Minnie would not brush her hair, she hated wearing shoes, she stayed completely silent when she was addressed by her teachers, to the point where they just stopped trying to involve her in the class, and let her sit in her corner drawing pages and pages of all different types of monsters; bulbous eyes, long yellow sabre teeth, matted fur in a rainbow of garish technicolour. She would fill her Batman and Robin backpack, which her mother had sewn up for her as a peace offering, with her drawings, and carry them around like crude talismans.
Yet when the children spoke to her, regardless of their intentions, she nashed her little white monster teeth at them, she snarled and she spat, and no one would come near her. She felt the strong pull of the power infused in her disguise; it was so hard to make little girls like you, but so easy to make them hate you.
“Without his costume, Batman would be nothing. No one would write comics about Bruce Wayne. No one would remember him” Minnie told herself, when she saw the groups of girls running past her in a fairyfloss cloud of sugar pink giggles, and her clandestine heart gave a little quiver. She just sat at the edge of the playground, drawing her monsters and waiting for her masked avenger.

The Gradual Demise of Phillipa Finch

This is a gorgeously morbid tv series that my friend Laura introduced me to (see "Thumbs Up for Owl Crafting" for more of her inspired ideas), and I just love it! It's so clever, and for some reason it actually cheers me up, even though the content is rather depressing. And Toni Collete has a brilliant voice for narration, I've decided she has perfect annunciation, which sounds lame, but it totally makes a difference.
So far, my favourite line is "Emotional Ambiguity is the Poetic Path to an Ulcer"
I think all of us can relate to Phillipa in at least some part of our lives.
Follow the youtube video to find more episodes, they're only about two mintues each, if that, it took me about half an hour to watch the whole thing :)

Emotional Fashion

Clothes are not just clothes; they are colours, fabric and textures, cuts, stiches, and labours of love. Fashion is not just an industry; it is a hobby, a collection, a scavenger hunt and an expression of being. How women dress is the still frame of their interests and personalities; it is what you would see if you could photograph souls. It can show a devotion to their history, or a love of innovation, an expression of pent up post modernism that could not even be quashed during Sunday service, or a simple yet effective “fuck you” to the world.
Even the woman’s simple act of dressing is laden with undertones of spiritualism and sensuality; it is a ritual, conducted by naked limbs and curated by mirrors. She goes through the motions of her daily routine, sparked perhaps the night before by an idea, a persona she saw in a movie or a magazine, or even just an emotion, painstakingly revised and reinvented as her mind is released into gentle sleep. When she wakes, brushing the stray strands of hair and the sticky sleep that lightly dusts the corners of her eyes from her face, she open the wardrobe, and the garments begin to talk to her. The green plaid overcoat warns her about the impending cold front, but the black French lace slip dress promises a little confidence and a lot more fun. She looks to the haphazard collection of shoes strewn about her wardrobe floor, or perhaps lined up in neat little pairs like little children waiting to go to class, arranged from most comfortable to least comfortable, or in least to most beautiful pairs (although really that is the same scale now, isn’t it?), to try and shed some light on her predicament, and although she sees the plain black padded kitten heels with sensible ankle straps that she had decided on the night before, the voice of the slightly worn leather yet timelessly wondrous cowboy boots is louder and more alluring, promising height, adventurous yet classic style and assurance that this time there will not be blisters. In most cases, the daring if not slightly impractical will always win over the sensible yet often demure garments that are once again pushed to the side of the clothes wrack and will not see the light of day until such events as job interviews, eightieth birthday parties or the death of a distant relative. The lucky chosen ones will serve a higher purpose than discretion or even comfort, for these are the garments that make her feel good about her self, able to face another day at work, the ones that tap into Aphrodite's fountain of spiritual womanhood, or are just down right sexy.
But there are of course the other times, mostly during the colder months of winter, when she will tone it down with a cardigan or a hand knitted scarf; it's hard to fully experience the dizzying rush of soaring self esteem when you are freezing your tits off.


This is a piece from the photo exhibition by Lyndal Walker called LA TOILETTE D'UNE FEMME which I went and saw today at the Centre for Contemporary Photography in Fitzroy, and consequently inspired this little tidbit.


This is Tavi, author of thestylerookie and possibly the coolest thirteen year old girl ever.


And of course Pandora, who pretty much owns my dream wardrobe

This adorable bunny ring was bought for me by my lovely from a stall at the Finders Keepers market we went to on Saturday. It was wonderful, so much talent, and so many beautiful things! My only regret was that we didn't get to sample the cupcakes :( But more on that later.

Future Music Festival

To end the awesome run of summer festivals I have been attending since I got back from holidays, me, Lovely and some of our friends went to the Future Music Festival. We thought we were in for a hot one, starting off with a very sweaty train ride into Flemmington, but the weather soon turned, dowsing us in torrential rain for the better part of the day. BUT we were not disheartened, as dancing in the rain to your favourite bands with your favourite people is not really something to be complaining about :) well, at least until you start feeling a little bit cold, uncomfortable and annoyed that the powers that be start shortening set lists :(
These were the bands we saw

Gypsy and the Cat

I'd only heard a couple of their songs (Jonah Vark, Time to Wander) so I didn't really know what to expect, but they were brilliant live, especially during those songs and The Piper's Song, which reminds me of Toto's Africa everytime I listen to it now for some reason. I'm sure I was the only person not singing along to that song when they played it, but only because I'd never heard it before (that's what I get for going overseas for the summer. Oh well, I got to listen to lots of Justin Beiber and Shakira :/) The lead singer has abeautiful live voice, all in all one of the highlights of my day and definatly recommened if you ever get the chance to see them :)

Tame Impala
The first band on the chopping block setlist wise :( Pretty sure they only played four songs, but it is Tame Impala so they were all pretty much over the seven minute mark. Trippy videos accompanied their music really well, and they were all decked out in very stylish hippy atire which I rather liked. I also liked the lead singer's subtle dig at Ke$ha, who was playing at the same time, and the fact that he thanked us for coming to see them and not her. Trust me dude, it was not a hard descision. Although apparently Ke$ha did have confetti cannons, which are always fun. Hmmm...nope, not even that would be worth it. But most importantly, they sounded awesome, just would have liked to hear more from them. But they did play Solitude is Bliss, which I rather love, so I should be grateful!

Art Vs Science
Oh my freakin god. Now I went into this knowing full well how awesome they were live, having seen them at Falls a couple of years ago, but the only way to truely capture the feeling you get at a live Art Vs Science set is to keep going back. Which I did, and will do until they cease to play live, on which day I will cry my little heart out.
Once again, they blew all expectations out of the water. I don't know what it is about this band, whether its the ridiculous lyrics, the sci-fi inspired synth keyboards or the ground shaking base but there is something their music that just makes me feel so damn GOOD! Highlights: just as they began the opening to Magic Fountain, it started pissing down with rain. So appropriate. I love little music moments like that. Oh and Parles Vouz Frances, just cos its awesome. Sadly, this was the other set that got cut short :( so no fresh prince covers this time (sad), but it was still probably my favourite set of the day, even if it did mean we had to miss Mark Ronson; I heard he was also rather awesome.

The Presets
I've loved the Presets since I was about 18 years old, which was pre Apocolypso and I had just discovered "Are You the One?" whilst on one of my many Thursday or Saturday nights out in Brown Alley. This prompted me to download their second album Beams, as it was also during the days when Limewire was around. Oh, how things have changed. Although I do love Apocolypso, the Presets seem to have lost the dirty grungy danceness that they used to encapsulate so well in favour of a shiny new sound, which became most aparent when they stripped back my favourite aforementioned song without the signature starting riff. It was still a really great full set, and I'm all for bands evolving and moving on to try new things. I guess what I'm trying to say is that part of me misses the old days, and seeing the Presets at Future reminded me of this.

Dizzee Rascal

We didn't to see much of Dizzee cos we were frantically trying to find our friends whom we had not seen again since the start of Tame Impala. But what we did see was pretty cool, Dizzee seems like a real character. He played his big ones, like Dance Wiv Me, Holiday, Dirty Disco, You've Got the Dirty Love etc. pretty early on, but I have to say that I enjoyed one of his older songs the most (I've always had a bit of a soft spot for Fix Up Look Sharp), oh and of course You've Got the Dirty Love, because, well, I'm not so secretly in love with Florence Welch. No Bonkers though. A little sad.

Pendulum

This was the dark horse set for me; I knew I was looking forward to it, I had been highly reccomended by Lovely who is a huge fan, but I didn't know what it was going to be like. It was brilliant. Definatly would have been my favourite if I hadn't already been seduced by the sounds of Art Vs Science earlier in the day. It's the kind of music that on an ipod i have to be in the mood for, but on the stage it is so big and loud it enters every orifice and fills you with exuberence and a unexplainable joy for life, even if the lyrics are sometimes rather depressing (Watercolour, for example). So you could say I was violated by Pendulum, but in a good way!
It was funny though, you could definatly tell that a lot of the kids were only there to hear the remix they did of the ABC news theme, cos as soon as they played it, they all fucked off to go see the Chemical Brothers.

The Chemical Brothers

So yes, after the Pendulum set, we also fucked off to see the end of the Chemical Brothers. Who were pretty damn good I must say. They definatly win best lighting and visual effects for the day, with lots of little short films to go with every song (they played it pretty much like a massive DJ set) and at one stage a giant lit up butterfly cage. It's amazing how many Chemical Brothers songs I know without knowing that I know them. They didn't play Galvanise, or the Salmon Dance (or they did, but we missed it because we were too busy being musically violated at Pendulum) But it was a good way to end an exhausting day, and a good way to send off our dear friend Brenton, who is now living in London! Lucky bugger.

I didn't take my camera with me (cos I dropped it overseas and now the focus doesn't work *sigh* I'm not allowed to have nice things), so these photos were borrowed from Evarinaldiphotography on flikr.

Villages

Dear Ruby and I went for a frolick in the sun a couple of weeks ago to Warburton, and she brought her camera along :) Here's a sneak peak, but if you want to see the rest of the photos click here for her blog and here for her deviantART.


This is the song a day like the one we had needs

Minnie the Monster Part 2

‘Connie’s Costume Capers’ was a small and musty hole in the wall costume store, overflowing with an eclectic collection of outfits, ranging from Dracula complete with cape, teeth and little plastic viles of what looked like blood, to a huge black and white cows head that sat atop a plastic mannequin wearing Marilyn Monroe’s famous white dress. It was a place where you could be anyone except who you wanted to be; it even said so on the brass plaque outside the door. Minnie wondered where Connie was; perhaps she could convince her mother that a girl like Minnie was more suited to dressing like a pirate than a fairy. But Minnie soon forgot about Connie, she forgot about everyone and everything else, once she saw the furry purple and blue head of a monster costume peering out at her from in between Minnie and Mickey mouse. Minnie thought it was the most perfect thing she had ever seen. She grabbed her mothers hand pulled her over where the little monster was hiding, and started pointing to it feverishly, begging her mother to let her try it on. “Oh no, Minnie, that’s not for little girls. Besides, it’s ghastly! Why don’t you try this one on instead”, she said, holding up the garishly oversize head of Minnie Mouse. “Look, it’s got your name on it and everything!” Minnie stared up at the bulbous face of her namesake, and began to cry. She would not stop crying, and her mother was getting quite furious with her. She would not stop crying until Connie herself came over to see what all the fuss was about; she was a wizened old lady wearing thickly plastered costume make up and smelling faintly of cigarettes, but Minnie thought she looked like a fairy godmother. In her prime, Connie had been a famous burlesque performer, but time and age had relegated her to the world of costume, which she had pursued fondly, caught up in lingering nostalgia for the ‘old days’. Minnie liked her instantly, but her mother was not so convinced.
“What’s wrong honey?” she asked Minnie kindly, her voice rattling harshly but not unpleasantly, bending down to look her in the eyes. Minnie liked it when grown ups addressed her, because they nearly always spoke to her through her mother. “She isn’t doing as she’s told,” her mother replied firmly, wrongly assuming that she had just been addressed. Connie had met with mothers like this before. In fact, she didn’t much like adults, she preferred talking to children; they seemed to have a more profound understanding of her.
Connie smiled down kindly at Minnie, her face breaking out into a thousand wrinkles like a crumpled piece of paper, and she stopped crying instantly, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “I want to be the monster” she said firmly. “He looks warm and cozy and safe!”
“An excellent choice!” Connie replied, much to Minnie’s mother’s dismay, “The monster will protect you against any evil, and keep you all wrapped up against the cold in his purple and blue coat. He is an excellent friend to have around.”
“Just like Batman?” Minnie cried. Connie laughed, a laugh that sounded like china plates thrown against a tolling bell. “Exactly like Batman” she replied, ruffling Minnie’s dark, wispy waif hair. Minnie beamed; her mind was made up, and there was nothing her mother could do that could bend her child’s iron will otherwise.

International Women's Day

Happy International Women's day everybody :) I didn't know that it was until about 20 mins ago, but I think it's a nice thing to celebrate all the cool things that make up a woman, besides the vagina (although that is generally an important part as well), and all the things they have accomplished despite being considered the inferior sex for a very long time. So in the spirit of the day here is some of my favourite and most influential female musicians that I feel embody the spirit of true womanhood, whatever you feel that may be.

PJ Harvey
Her new album is unbelievable, undoubtedly one of my favourites to come out of her extensive musical brilliance.


Joni Mitchell
She looks so beautiful in black and white


Kate Bush
She turned my favourite book into an iconic song that actually works; how can I not love her?


and of course, my first true musical love, my muse, my all time favourite

Tori Amos

Andy Bull

To continue the awesome run of gigs that my lovely has been taking me to, on Saturday night we went to see Andy Bull :) He was incredible to say the least, and a real fan of audience interaction, which was great cos he's a damn funny guy (and curses like a sailor). He is also rather clever, and his songs come across as very genuine and have a lot of depth to them which is sometimes hard to find in the music industry these days. I particularly liked how he explained Last Waltz to be a song about being demasculinised by your partner, and that songs with real emotional depth are neither exclusively happy or sad, but are a combination of both, thus reflecting life, which is both filled with light and darkness. This really resonated with me, especially at this time in my life.
Even though the special guests that appear on his EP Phantom Pains weren't present (Lisa Mitchell, Little Red, Hungry Kids of Hungary), him and his excellent guitarist friend, who he described as both a tall drink of water and a handsome devil, did an awesome job at the stripped back set; his voice is strong and clear enough to carry anything! Stand outs for me included Dog (below), Nothing to Lose, We're Too Young, and his hilarious banter. Oh, and he opened with a cover of New Slang, which is my all time favourite Shins song. Best.


Andy Bull (with much longer hair than he has now)



We also caught the end of the supporting set by Jessica Says, and the beginning of Owl Eyes. I really enjoyed both of them, although I was particularly struck by Jessica Says and her voice's uncanny resemblence to Kate Bush. That and her penchant for bodysuits and interpretive dance. It's remarkable, and a little scary.


Jessica Says

But I'll let you be the judge of that.

Urge for Going

I awoke today and found the frost perched on the town
It hovered in a frozen sky, then it gobbled summer down
When the sun turns traitor cold
and all the trees are shivering in a naked row
I get the urge for going but I never seem to go

I get the urge for going
When the meadow grass is turning brown
Summertime is falling down and winter is closing in

Urge for Going by Joni Mitchell
Photos by musicandphotography

Seabellies

So last night, Lovely, his brother and I went to the Northcote Social Club to see the Seabellies! I had only heard their full album once so I wasn't really sure what to expect, but they turned out to be freakin awesome.The stand out was of course Trans Ending, but not just because it is their first single and so when they started playing it, people in the crowd in front of us started dancing all crazy like. I was more impressed by the fact that when it came time for the horn breakdown at the end of the song (you'll understand what I'm talking about if you watch the clip below) the lead singer decided "oh, ill just go over here and switch places with the drummer WHILE HE'S STILL PLAYING" and the now ex drummer just casually picks up a trumpet, and then the girl (I wish I knew her name) who has played about one hundred different instruments already comes out with a saxaphone and they just start rocking out. It was, at the risk of repeating myself, freakin awesome!
But don't take my word for it! Have a listen!



Also, I think I might move to Northcote. As we were walking back to Glynn's car at about 11.30pm, we passed a second hand book shop that was still open. *Sigh* You would never find that in Vermont.

Thumbs Up for Owl Crafting

A few days after I came back from South America, I was surprised with freakin cool birthday/christmas presents from two of my dearest friends, Laura and Eleanor. Say hi girls!


Hehehe. I love getting handmade gifts, and these clay owl hooks are just lovely!
Laura was even nice enough to send me a description of how they made the owls, and took some photos for me, so I can pass on such excellent crafting knowledge :) Hooray! So let us begin!


These owls were made using basic air drying clay that you can pick up from any good arts or crafts store.


Thats some nice clay ;)


In order to turn this adorable little clay animals into something useful, the girls attached metal hooks onto the back of them. These hooks have holes for screwing them into the walls, but since the owls will be laying flat against them, some sort of double sided mounting tape is essential for attaching to the walls/ doors etc.


This design uses a simple circle shape for the base, and the girls suggest that making them different sizes will create a more interesting asthetic, and it makes them look more like a family! Which looks adorable on my wall by the way :)


There are a number of methods you can use for drying the clay; you can leave them to dry overnight, which will minimise the chance of cracking, or if you're in a hurry you can bake the clay, but the risk of cracking is greatly hightened. The girls chose the option of using the hairdryer, which can be effective but may also result in boredom, and consequently distraction! Haha. Work the camera laura!



*sigh* crafting is hard work!


You may also find yourself becoming rather hungry, but I suggest that you steer clear of munching on your crafting partners toes and go and fix yourself a sandwich.

Uh oh, too late! Munch those toes Ele!


Once they're dry, now comes the really creative part. The design the girls used was based off a google template, but you can apply any design and any colour schemes that you like! Just go with what suits you! Draw the basic template onto the clay, find the colours you like, and allow to dry. Their colours of choice were Pink, Blue, Purple and Green! It depends on what medium you use, but with some materials how well they take on the paint can sometimes vary. In some cases you may need to use an undercoat before painting on your design. You can also use a sealant if you wish, its up to you if you want a matte or glossy finish.


Finally, its time to attach the hooks! The girls used liquid nails, as superglue can be quite messy and dangerous for unco people such as ourselves (I am of course including me in this category), which works just as well. Now all thats left to do is hang them on the wall.

Thankyou my darlings :D This was a perfect birthday/christmas present to come home to, and an awesome crafting project!

Craft On xo