rain

My Illustration Friday attempt for "rain".

It has stopped for the past 3 days, but before that it had been raining here for weeks.

tempted?

Right now I wish I had a web cam set up on each of your faces ready to take a quick snap at the very moment you spy this pic. I’m laughing already, partly because of the funniness, the other part is pure nervousness as I wonder if this is the point where I finally lose all my online friends, once and for all.

Wait! Before you think to yourself “I thought this girl was sweet and wholesome… turns out she’s a freaky-pervert-sicko” and snap your browser closed, please, let me explain.

I innocently happened across this in one of my art supply boxes the other day.
“Yeah? Well how did it get there?” I hear you ask.
Okay, fair question.

Some years ago a I did a photoshoot for a friend (a talented dancing and singing camp gay man) for his promotional material. As a thank-you he gave me a hamper. A normal hamper, as hampers go, you know crackers, olives, relish, chocolates, a bottle of wine… OH! And this totally weird set of "Temptation edible body paint, in 4 devine flavours"!

I have no idea where he bought the hamper from, or if he knew this was in there; all I can think of is he must have accidentally picked up the ‘honeymoon’ hamper instead of the ‘thanking a friend for a non-sexual favour” hamper he intended to.

At first I was shocked, then confused, then embarrassed then I just laughed.

Have a look, (if you can bare) she’s a friendly lady isn’t she? And doesn’t she pull off that early 90’s Warrant groupy look so well? Isn’t good to see that even though she misplaced her bra, those sensible big white nickers were handy? And how about that wonderful landscape she’s painting?

I laughed even more when I opened it up to see what the paints actually looked like. OMG, they cannot seriously be edible! What exactly is ‘blue heaven’ flavour? They look like radioactive waste. Even if I was feeling kinky enough to try it, I certainly would think twice about letting that stuff come in contact with human skin, let alone eating it!

What’s wrong with chocolate anyway? Can’t go wrong with chocolate!
(Having said that, a guy at work told us a story of over ambitiously coating his girlfriend in chocolate body paint, methodically starting at her hand then being too sick to continue by the time he got to her elbow. The less-than-sexy attempt ended with him sending her away to shower the rest off herself).

Back to the radioactive waste…
I was too scared to throw it out in case it fell out of the bin on rubbish night, ending up in the neighbours garden, forcing them to start a petition against us, thinking we’re swingers with a keen but low-brow interest in art. That’s how it ended up in one of my less regularly accessed art boxes, and there it will stay I suppose.

That is until I’m brave enough to sell it on ebay! It’d gain loads of interest don’t you think?

(p.s. I never did mentioned it to the friend who gave me the hamper. We’ve since lost contact.)
(p.p.s. I wanted to post the images bigger for added shock value, but was concerned about hate mail from protective mothers)

studio sales

Just went to the Corban & Blair studio sale and picked up a little bunch of 'pretty'. Some printed fabric and a leather embossed purse. Then popped next door to Poco Profile studio sale and picked up a couple of cards and bookmarks.

The fabric is for my ever increasing stash and the rest will go in the 'gift box' (which I don't have yet, but it's a good idea don't you think? I'm so very good at accumulating things, I'm sure it's a much better way to shop than a mad dash around the overcrowded shops on Christmas eve.) Knowing me I'll stash them somewhere, forget all about it, still do the mad dash on Christmas eve, and find all this stuff in about 4 years time.

In other news I'm still waiting for my sewing machine to come home. They told me the service wouldn't take any more than a week, it's now been 11 DAYS! I keep having visions of my poor little sewing machine bitching to the service team about how I beat it with a pink cushion, showing them it's bruises, and begging to live with them. I bet it's in a witness protection program already, wearing a scarf and dark glasses, hiding away in the safety of some elderly womans' sewing room way out in Waga Waga.

the baby formery known as...

My Illustration Friday attempt for "dance".

One of my best memories from when we visited Lacey-T, Pat and baby Ikelberry in Adelaide last week was baby Ikelberry dancing.

While I was trying on and then buying this totally awesome shirt, she busted out some cool moves to "Lets go crazy" and "Purple Rain" from Prince's Purple Rain album (which was playing loudly in the store). She was dangling in a 'babybjorn' at the time, but this only aided her fancy footwork. So impressive!
(Note: Top half of baby dressed by Prince's wardrobe. Bottom half, model's own).

Before I sign out I feel a little more deserves to be said about this shirt. At first glance it looks like a pretty, feminine blouse, that is until you notice the stratocasters on either shoulder! ROCKIN!

go go nymphettes

Thinking about this week’s Illustration Friday theme “dance”, I remembered an experience in my life that I’m quite sure up to now I must have repressed.

A bit of background…
I love dancing, can’t get enough of it, I’ve loved it as long as I can remember and I do it any chance I can get (except at gigs cause that’s uncool). I bop around the kitchen (while I’m waiting for my toast to pop), I love watching it and I love learning new ones. I loved learning how to tango and now I really really want to learn how to rock’n’roll dance (if I could just convince Mr You…)
You could say I’m mad for it!

So, when my friend Fi called to ask if her and a friend (lets call her Gwen) could stay at my place, as they were going to a dance workshop nearby, and would I like to come too, I was pretty excited. This was back when I was still at Uni and Fi went to Uni in a different state. I was excited to see her, to meet one of her new friends and of course about the prospect of dance. Fi is good fun but also has a lot of dignity, so when she told me the dance workshop was called “Go Go Nymphettes” I knew it wasn’t going to be any smutty thrusting or pole dancing. She told me that Gwen had done it once before and loved it.

To be honest I didn’t really know what to expect of “Go-Go Nymphettes”, I was thinking Dee-Lite or Kylie in gold hotpants or something cute and a bit “kitten” if you catch my drift.

It was all planned, then I got a call from Fi at work right before I was about to leave to meet them. She said Gwen had told her a bit more about it, and that she didn’t think she was up for it as she was a bit tired (she may have even told me she had a headache), but Gwen would still meet me as planned.

I found a lady who matched Gwen’s description, introduced myself and together we went to find this “dance” workshop. (Note at this point I start to implement sarcastic quotation marks around the word “dance”).

It was in a big hall, only 5 of us plus the teacher, all women. I was the only one who hadn’t done it before. They all looked like nice prim and proper office workers. We got changed into our “dance” gear, I had track pants and a t-shirt, the others didn’t. One wore pantyhose over her undies and a bra, and nothing else. A little perplexed, I just thought she must have left her gold hotpants at home accidentally… at first.

Oh, I don’t even know how to describe what when on next, other than to say I couldn’t believe it lasted for TWO AND A HALF HOURS, and I still to this day don’t know why I didn’t walk out or how I managed to contain the uncontrollable laughter that I had to purse my lips hard to constrict.

If I did have to describe it to someone I guess my synopsis would be something like:
Eyes Wide Shut Orgy meets “Interpretive Dance” for those who are loooong overdue for a damn good shag, and spend waaaaaay too much time alone and horny.

The bits I do remember were such wonderful moments as:

1 - One at a time having to “move” from one end of the room to the other expressing the music through “movement”, (from memory because I was new they wanted me to go first to give me a chance to “express” cleanly). I did a safe but snappy step touch, step touch click jazzy kinda thing (thinking you can’t go wrong with a step touch). The bits I clearly missed were completely ignoring the beat, having my eyes closed, rubbing my hands all over myself while moving like a jellyfish being washed up on the shore and moaning, loudly. (I was already mentally preparing myself to make a run for it when the candid camera crew burst out from behind a curtain. It never happened.)

2 - Having to pair up, one gal lying on her back with her eyes closed, the other gal taking hold of her ankles, pushing them up towards her body and then away from it over and over, rocking the reclining gal up and down as though she’s being shagged. Oh, and more moaning, eyes closed of course. (KILL ME NOW!) I remember when I was the rocker having the teacher tell me to put more “thrust” into it, and when I was being rocked I lip-synced the sound parts, all Milli Vanilli like.

3 - The one I found most unforgettable was an extension of this. When it was my turn, laying on my back with my eyes shut as tight as I could, they were now apparently trying to connect with my body through sound and movement. The teacher prompted them to connect with the outer layer of my body; they played with my hair, blew on my skin and rubbed their hands over me.
Then the teacher prompted them to connect with my muscles and tendons; they massaged, someone twisted their finger between each of my toes, and they rolled on me, all at once. But it got worse. The teacher, now getting in there with them prompted them to connect with my bones and organs. I WAS TERRIFIED. They pulled my arms and legs, and twisted my head and kept on rolling on me until the whole group was a giant ball of slow squirmy worms and had manipulated it’s way (with me inside) all around the room. The teacher in there too whispering into my legs and hips “Bone Bone Bitty Bitty Bone” AARRRRRHHHHH


I can’t believe I’m telling you this, I’m freaking out just writing it! No wonder I have personal space issues – I’m injured people. Damaged by those freaky succubus’s.

Then just when I thought the hell had come to an end we had to sit in a circle and “CRITIQUE” THE WHOLE FREAKY EXPERIENCE, FOR ANOTHER HALF HOUR.

This is when the “teacher” chose to tell us that she was actually an academic writing a thesis on the ways women explore their own sensuality and pleasure zones without the influence of men.

Was she experimenting on us!????

By the end I was wishing there HAD been a pole! (I think I may have said that out loud too).

Don't get the wrong idea (if that's possible), it wasn't actually an orgy or even smutty, it was actually all just way too "earth mother goddess" for my liking. Ladies who like to connect with their inner Gaia and all that.

Afterwards Gwen and I walked home, silently and awkwardly. I was in shock and she could tell I was contemplating dashing to a tabloid to sell my exposé for a wad of cash.

We got home. Fi had been at my place reading a good book and chatting to Mr You. As soon as we came inside she could see the despair in my eye, and I could see the guilt in hers. Nothing was said. I showered for a very long time.

The very moment they left the next morning I burst out laughing. I laughed and laughed uncontrollably for what would have been at least 20 mins. I was in pain from laughing so much. I leaked a bucket load of tears all while Mr You now laughing along but not knowing why, watched on. All I could mutter to him through my hysteria was “Bitty Bitty Bone!”

trailblazers

Just got back from a 4 day trip to Adelaide (it must seem like we're always away, but we're not really. this one was planned a while ago). We went to South Australia for the first time to visit our good friends Pat and Lacey-T who moved there last year.

They are the first amonst our friends who have moved away to settle down, who have had a baby, and who bought their own house. They're so brave and grown-up.

We had a lovely time with them looking around the city and surrounds, as they did their darndest to sell the city's highlights and convince us to move there.

I must say after spending only 4 days with baby Ikelberry I'm feeling all baby mooshy. (She has amazing bright red hair and is stopped by so many passing people on the streets you end up feeling like you're in the company of a rockstar; A 9 month old baby-rockstar).

Lacey convinced me that I'd be fine holding Ikelberry after she admitted that she too has beaten her sewing machine on more than one occasion and still manages to be an awesome mum. I'm feeling relieved and much less guilty now.

Just quietly I had a little sob on the plane on the way home - I'm really going to miss them.

crisis over

Well, a-hem (stand's up, wipes face, smoothes hair down and dusts herself off), feeling much better now thank-you (blushing).

Sorry for that outburst and thank-you for your kind comments. I was on the verge of buying a new sewing machine, but from many accounts new machines are prone to exactly the same issues. So the other night after my teensy-weensy fit, I made a yummy dinner, watched a bit of TV and tried again. Do you know it worked?!!! Yes, that little tease of a machine just decided to go back to working all over again, like nothing ever happened. Hussy!

I took advantage, sat up late and finished this "Pink Tree's" bag that I started months ago...

(still has a few finishing touches to go, I feel it needs a button)

Then the next day the same scenario happened all over again. I woke up happy and excited about sewing, 4 mins in it lockup up and went loopy once more. This time I remembered all your wise words . I took a deep breath, got out the short scew driver and pulled the whole machine apart. I gave it a good clean out, I blew hard into the nooks I couldn't reach, and even gave it a good shake. I spoke to it with encouraging words and a gentle tone, and VOILA, it worked! (did I pass the test?)

It wasn't brilliant, but it was good enough. Today I'll look into getting it serviced and give that a try before contemplating buying a new one.
Anyway, I didn't get started on the bag I'm suppose to make for Ria, and I didn't start Shoofly's bag either, but I did finally get around to finishing the "Flame Tree's" bag I started AGES ago. And I'm really happy with it. It's well made and looks really cute.

So a few tree bags to get the ball rolling, slowly... there's no rush.

I'm the epitome of patience.

Just call me Zen.

Hear That Universe!

(wax on ... wax off)

crafternoon from hell

I'm having a week off work this week to spend some time living my alternate dream life; sewing, making bags and other crafty endevours. I have a big list of things to make, and have been really looking forward to it. So far it's not going well... at all. The whole week, due to other activities and commitments, has shrunk to 2 and a half days. Today I intended to get through heaps, cross stacks of things off my little but lengthy checklist.

To give you an idea of how my dream week is going so far, It's Monday, I've just come in from outside after stabbing the lawn with a stick violently and repeatedly, AFTER ploughing through about half a box of tissues dabbing at big tears, AFTER slapping my sewing machine with a cushion and swearing at it loudly, AFTER it decided to choose now to turn into the most uncooperative piece of machinery that ever existed, AND make me feel like the universe is punishing me.

I don't understand, everything was going so well. I did a couple of test rows on the sewing machine to get the tension right. That took a little twiddling, but it worked, and sewing was going to plan for about 4 minutes. Then I got up ironed a few bits, came back to sew exactly the same fabric with exactly the same thread and needle and everything, and the sewing machine started making giant loops underneath the fabric.

My machine is pretty old, so I stopped, unpicked, adjusted the tension, and tried a few test rows again. The manual says if there are loops forming, the needle tension is too loose. So I tightened it, a bit a time, each time sewing another test row. I worked through from as loose to as tight as you can get and still no success. I tried everything: different thread, re-threading, cleaning the dust out of it, different fabric, and nothing worked. After spending more time trying to fix it than actually sewing, I lost it.

I'm always complaining that I would make so much if I only had the time, now I've created the time... Well, you know. Let's just say I'm rather upset.

I feel like I try so hard and still nothing complies. Just what is the universe trying to tell me about my alternate dream life!?
And what's more, now I'm convinced that the Homemaker Gods are slapping down the "Looses patience with sewing machine = will be very bad mother one day" card.
BAM - ROYAL FLUSH!

mega-deca mist caves and all

On the 10th of June each year Mr You and I celebrate the anniversary of when we first got together. At this time we wish each other a “Happy 10th”. This year we wished each other a “Happy Mega-Deca-10th” = 10th anniversary.

To mark the occasion we hired a sweet little cabin in the Blue Mountains for a cosy Winter weekend together. The cabin was beautiful, nestled in amongst giant moss covered trees, a carpet of bronzed pine needles and a view across the misty valley below.


Lovingly restored and filled with beautiful antique furniture and trinkets such as a free standing bath, fireplace with antique air poofer, old pedal organ, old camera’s and sheet music.


We spent time napping and reading in the rocking chair by the fire, and eating scones and hot tea in local cafés. At night we dined in a cute café with chilled-out live music and then explored the amazing Carrington Hotel. It was like stepping back in time through a curtain of thick mist.


Yesterday, after visiting an art fair and eating even more food, we drove up over the mountains to the valley on the other side. Through sweet little country towns and past old sandstone farm houses. Many Autumn colours still linger in fallen red leaves but the yellow-ochre grass stays all year round.


Onward along narrow, misty, curvy mountain roads toward Jenolan Caves. (Last blurry photo is what you are met with after turning the final corner. I giant cave archway that you drive right through.)


After coming out the other side of the cave gateway, a quaint little village awaits your visit. Once again like stepping back into the past or an undiscovered fairyland, again taunting us with hot teas and sweet snacks.


We toured though Lucas Cave, it’s scale and beauty can’t really be described (other than to tell you the tour through this cave system alone took us an hour and a half, we didn’t even get to the other caves). If you look in the photo below you can see the people, and a set of stairs carved into the rock in the background. In this cave they have opera, choir, symphony and cello concerts.


We loved it. At times it was a bit creepy, learning that the roof area (all supported by only one rock pylon) is as large as 4 soccer fields, walking through some pretty tight tunnels, and standing on a little bridge about 50 meters above an underground river below. Knowing that the stalactites never ever fall down on their own (without being pulled that is), and also that the caves have been this way since Australia broke apart from Antarctica helped me feel a little more at ease. If you’re ever passing by, it’s WELL worth the visit.

self portrait

My Illustration Friday attempt for "portrait". (phew I thought I'd never get this up, blogger has been down)

What's the best most fun thing about my new computer? Is it the processor speed faster than lightning? Nope.
Is it the gigantasourus Ram? u-uh.
Could it be the so-wide-it's-like-a-horizon-sitting-on-your-desk monitor? Nay.
It's a teeny bit of software that came with it; Photobooth.
You sit in front of the camera built into the monitor and it projects you back onto the screen. Then you click the button, count to 3, and the whole monitor flashes white light at you as it takes a photo.
So what? Well, the best most fun part is that it has all sorts of effects like a hall of mirrors. I've sat and warped myself into so many unrecognisable shapes it's getting to be a problem.

"Flossy, lets go get dinner ready"
"Okaaaay, just a second" (Mr You goes to kitchen alone)
Snap - Snap- giggle - snap - snap...
(Mr You comes back into computer room 10 mins later to find me STILL laughing at the shape of my own head!) oops.

I've Photoboothed everyone who has come to visit. Most photo's end up as the tops of peoples heads from them bending in fits of hysterical laughter. But I've also got wide smiles, tall foreheads, and stretched necks. I'm building up quite a library, should ever I need to blackmail one of my friends.

It makes it much more entertaining to create a self portrait than sitting in front of a mirror. This little illo is a somewhat less hysterical homage to Photobooth and the joy it brings, (but in a sombre Frida like pose, with an object of significance).

turning into

This is a painting I did quickly one afternoon many years ago. I sat in front of a mirror and just painted. I remember having a sudden urge to paint using a pallet of colours I otherwise never would (which is seriously clashing with the colours on this blog). The funny thing is that when I painted this I didn't look anything like this, partly because it's hard to paint yourself and make it look like you, but also at the time I had short blonde hair.

Coincidentally I came across this painting while rummaging through folders under my bed last week.
I hadn't seen it in ages, and funnily I actually look a lot more like this now, at least 5 years later, than I did when I painted it...
(well, I'm still not aqua, and would love to still have skin this taught and glowy, but I now have long dark hair at least).

anything with spots

Along with a set of blood red flanelette bed sheets and the Birthday Book, for my birthday my mum bought me this purse. I LOVE it. It's a bit too big for a purse and is more like a very small bag.

I haven't used it yet, but am dying to.

eric

	This week at life drawing classes we set the twigs aside and were back to using charcoal again. I really don't feel like I'm getting the hang of it. Most of my drawings this week looked like jelly babies, round and featurless. I don't mind this one though. We started using tone this week and also practiced hard and soft edges.
	This was a quicker one, half finished, but ended up being my favourite of the night. Usually the models remain ambiguous and don't make eye contact. This week Eric the model not only made eye contact during his poses, he also chuckled at our facial expressions of concentration and frustration. He kept making jokes, and came around to look at our sketches after each pose, commenting "she likes my legs", or "tickling my armpits". He was quite the character.
	Mr You was on fire this week. Look at this awsome sketch. The teacher sat behind us almost the entire night watching him sketching and rub out. At one point she marvelled at how William Kentridge his sketches are.
	This one is a close up of the previous one. I really love it. This one will get framed too (we're going to need a much bigger house).

clear the throat and speak up

This time last year I made the leap from long-time-lurker to first-time-blogger. That’s right people this little blog has chugged through a whole year and to tell you the truth, I can’t work out if I can’t believe it or if I can.

I had no great expectations when I started. I’d lurked for a long time and was very good at it. I obsessed over other people’s blogs and was besotted with Illustration Friday from the very beginning, but I almost never commented or left any trace of presence.

I sat in the shadows and watched closely for almost 3 years before flossy was handed the mic.

This process over the past year has initiated many unexpected changes. I used to feel like I had to muster up a whole bunch of courage before feeling like it was okay to voice my opinion or show my real self. I’ve always been somewhat bubbly, but bubbles are easy to hide behind.

The biggest shift has been learning to feel like it’s normal and okay to speak. I don’t need to summon all my bravery just to prepare for being noticed.
A bigger challenge has been the same process with illustrations; trying to get that same feeling of ‘okay’ and normality when showing illustrations, (mind you this one I’m still working on).

I started this whole caper for the sole purpose of participating in Illustration Friday. Before that I hadn’t lifted a paintbrush in many years. I forced myself to start and to keep going. Initially it felt okay because nobody knew me and I didn’t matter.
(In fact Mr You still jokes about my first i-Fri entry breaking the record for being the shortest lived entry in history. I think it was posted to the Illustration Friday site only about 3 or 4 minutes before the topic rolled over).

Little did I know what else I would gain. The most unexpected glee has come from the friendship. I never knew that ongoing kind, supportive, encouraging comments from strangers could provide such fuel, inspiration and comfort.

Now as the orchestra booms out and before I start sobbing into my pink tafetta Oscars frock ah-laa Gwenyth Paltrow, and thanking everyone I’ve ever brushed past, I’ll wrap it up.

I’m really loving this you know. I sit at work and can’t wait to get home everyday to see what’s been going on with all you guys. It’s so much fun and much warmer out of the shadows. Thank-you.


The strange dichotomy I find myself in is that this has become such a big part of who I am now, but no-one knows about it. Nope, that’s right, no-one I know in the real world (except my most devoted reader Mr You) knows anything about it. Not my family or my sister, or anyone at work or even my closest friends. This was intentional initially, I was scared, and I thought I might censor myself. I’ve started showing some of them my drawings recently, but flossy is a giant secret. Now it’s been going so long I feel weird just dropping it in conversation…
“Oh by the way best friend/mum/only sister, I am flossy-p” (the only p in the village!)
Oops, I seem to have cast myself another shadow.
But there IS the added benefit of leading a sort-of superhero lifestyle – waiting, aware that at any moment I may need to slip off to the nearest stationary cupboard or phone booth for a quick costume change. I think my costume may consist of a quilted patchwork cape, a lowercase p embroidered on my chest and maybe a pink feather somewhere.

inner grin

Yesterday I felt the warmth of an inner grin all day after reading Love Squalor's kind post about a gift I had sent her. Isn't it just plain cool that you can make friends with people you've never even met?

After my elation of last week this week has been quite low, flat and I'd rather not be part of it. I'm trying not to dwell on it. Anyway the inner grin was what I needed to paddle on. Look up.

Looking up I'm getting really excited about a swap that Shoofly and I have organised. She is going to paint me a picture and I am going to make her a bag. This will be my first crafty swap. Looking forward to a weekend of sewing.

Looking upon and lusting after Johanna's amazing birthday gift, a necklace made by Nina.

cup cake

My Illustration Friday attempt for "cake".

There are bound to be many Marie's in blog land this week, and why shouldn't there be? Who could dispute such a woman? (actually the answer to this question is 'Thousands'). But she's a woman of my own heart, a cake-loving woman.

If nothing else, I must say, I'd be pretty pleased with myself if my only legacy was a quote such as "Let them eat cake"!!!