110209 – MOONLIT DAWN
featuring an astonished caterpillar, grouchy rabbits and bacterial studies dredged from the musty abbeys of miss jo’s classes tm. aren’t they well done for seven year olds? i am perenially expecting complaints from boboli (the Office Manager) because i tell the kids so much nonsense – that artworks will be sent to beasts for judging, beasts who can recognise their smells from the art paper; that not washing your hands is actually healthier; that caterpillars have lime green blood; that all real rabbits turn pink under special weather conditions and that i am eighteen. one of the above statements is true, naturally.
PURPLE, PURPLE LIKE THE EGGPLANT IN THE GARDEN
make a face. it’s unpleasantly spicy chillipepperness.
one. if i do not consider you my friend, where are you does not in any way constitute an appropriate greeting over the phone. you are a rude fool of a social imbecile and i shall thus dislike you and perhaps hope you die.
two. do not smirk if you have nothing to smirk about, not least a pretty face to smirk with.
three. pancakes generally have more bone structure; it is unsightly to give yourself airs when pastry features greatly in your ancestry. get a life (hint: it involves more than paperclip logistics) and cream in your buns.
four. your face is rancid. i hope i never need to see you under the sun ever. again.
five. i would never have chosen you, sweetheart.
you are so cute and youmakemehappy.
EASTSPRING
this is a tiny parta a mural for east spring primary school schizophrenically themed spring and the performing arts. amounting two hundred and forty five wooden pieces in the end, it turned out to be yet another comforting lesson about underestimating one’s workload. that happens so often doesn’t it? the company “puts up with me” for the displaced pride i manifest in the work but seriously, i do it for the money. who doesn’t do it for the money. i can exchange money for frappaccinos and if you were to reduce my existential philosophy to an empirical equation that would be i can exchange money for frappaccinos.
nah i’m kidding.
THE DAILY GRIND
my day job. by some misappropriation in scale and overestimation of self-abillity this mural’s ended up eighteen metres long and thrice my height. the children’ve finished their score of painting sessions last week and it’s up to me to make it look as unoffensive as it should originally be. sometimes i wonder why the workshop, or me for that matter, even bother about making any pretence of involving the children when we know i’m going to paint the entire blasted affair over again anyway.
