Piano Girl

Here's a piece of rare inspiration where I knew what i actually wanted to draw before I drew it. A girl with a piano strung to her wrist like a balloon. In my head, the piano is her best friend and they have adventures in the forest.

I like to tell myself it's a work in progress.

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I officially declared this week 'no facebook' week, just for fun- so no facebook for me. Just cleaning out my itunes and hard drive at the moment. Hurrah.

Elephant Leg Neck Girl

So it's that time of year again where I show up another sketch i drew for no other reason than to be an active part of the wonderful self-indulgent tool we call blogging...so here goes nothing!

The days are slow and grey, like a scratched silent movie no one cares to watch. Only a handful of well-dressed folk would even stop to consider and appreciate the string of events unfolding before them...perhaps they will write essays. They may or may not follow deconstructionist theories on how the author was simply dealing with deep and complex 'daddy issues', or whether it was a Dadaist examination of the absurd and the meaninglessness of art, the universe and everything. They can deconstruct all day long...but before they know it they will go home to listen to their Joy Division records in the dark and drink their red wine. I must admit that I've never listened to Joy Division, but I know they are from Manchester.

Right?

I visited Manchester once. We played football in a park near my cousin's house. On the way to the park, we had to pass through a muddy undergrowth that was no doubt frequented by delinquents and homeless alike. There was a discarded mattress on the wayside. I wondered what memories lay coiled within the springs. If we were to ask those springs of their past, they would most likely jump up and sting us right in the eye.

"Ow my eye! I'm not supposed to get springs in it!"


The days are slow and grey...and yet before you know it, it's autumn. It's winter. It's spring. It's summer. It's autumn. It's winter. It's spring. It's summer. It's autumn again...and you're already a season older than you last remember.

Everything's the same...and then before you know it,
everything changes.

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I wish I could get some rest in the shade of the tree. I would join the little folk and rejoice under their goddess of the elephant leg- with her finely coiffured head of hair. We could all be happy together- singing, dancing, drinking and eating. Perhaps i would meet a girl and we would laugh and discuss quantum mechanics. She would introduce me to her brother and we would start talking about our love for music. Several months later we could start a band and play regular shows in the shade of the magical tree of idolatry (idola-tree?). We would touch eternity and embrace life in the fullest...but then I remember that it's just a crappy little drawing i made when listening to the new Howling Bells album.

They cancelled their aussie tour.

Here's the drawing.


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As a little footnote unrelated to my emo-ing it out with my stream-of-consciousness drivel, I watched Invisible Children last night. It was incredibly moving not just to see the Ugandan kids' resilience in horrendous situations, but to see how three average american dudes made a simple, honest video 6 years ago about their 'African adventures' and how that completely and utterly magnified into a global call for justice and action. Simply amazing. I recommend you watch Invisible Children if you get the chance. There are currently more than 3000 kids under the rule of Mr. Joseph Kony in northern Uganda. He is fighting a pointless war that has lasted more than 20 years and is kidnapping and terrorising without any sign of stopping. Unfortunately i'm not sure if i can join the rally in sydney on saturday, but it has woken me up to the need for change in this world.

And how one voice can make a difference. If you believe in yourself.

You can achieve anything.


(end cliche here)


Kloo

Tree Head

Although her tree is old, bare and never bears fruit, the birds return each and every spring. In the winter the bark becomes coarser and harder while the large crack down its body grows ever so slightly. Sometimes she worries that as time goes on the crack will eventually break her tree and the birds will no longer have a home for the spring. She worries so much that she forgets to ride a bike, wash the dishes, watch her favourite TV show, go to class, swim at the beach, watch the sunset, read a book, call a boy...........it fills her with a profound melancholy as deep as the roots of the tree reach into the earth for sustenance.

It is winter now and the birds are away, floating on a distant breeze as gentle as the hair of a new born baby. They will not return for a season or so. Until then, the tree dries slowly only to become a fraction of a whisper of its former glory.


She prays for the birds to return, but she can only hear the cool breeze echoing in the hollow of her tree.

For Timqth

There are many futile things in life. Western decadence. The poverty gap. Gossip magazines. Emo kids vs the world. Apathy in youth. Tight jeans and irony beyond anyone's comprehension...Teenagers in general...


However, there are few things in life more futile than celebrity crushes.


On the bottom is Katy Perry and on the top is Hayley Williams as I drew them out of Rolling Stone (Katy Perry is no celebrity crush of mine but it was a very nice photo to refer to). Katy's picture is hanging on Tim's wall and Hayley is hanging about in our minds quite a bit. Why? Because we are all infatuated with that which we cannot have. I dedicate this post to Timqth.

But as my friend Zoe pointed out, 'Does she know you exist?'...that cut real deep Zoe. Real deep.

I'll leave you to ponder on that yourself.


Got Coldplay tickets before a day trip to Sydney today. Had a picnic lunch in the Botanical Gardens. Hung out at Kinokuniya. It's been busy times enjoying the last of my Aussie summer before the Malaysian heat come next Thursday.

Stupid Grin

‘Going into town’. This is all we ever do. The clubs and pubs call us out and we fill the void of our youth with their spirits. It makes me long for the days when a good night out meant hanging out at the beach with ice cream, maybe a guitar and a song or two. When someone’s house didn’t merely serve as a pre-drinks waterhole and quality conversation was the stimulant of the evening. Where the music makes your soul dance as well as your feet.

I long to sit and talk just for a bit. Talk about your hopes. Your dreams. Your BELIEFS. Where do you stand on the issue of abortion? What was the last CD you bought? How was your week? Did you like the last movie you saw? Where did you get those shoes? Where can a guy get a drink around here?...if conversation is an art then we are dada. We present meaningless nothings on the pretence of greatness and depth. Shallow like urinals.

We stumble through the awkward small talk, like toddlers unsure of how to stand on our two legs. All we can do is smile embarrassed as someone passes the bottle around.

But I speak too quickly and harshly. I enjoy a good night out as much as the next person and embrace the night without hesitation. Give me balloons and sparklers, champagne and cake, a voice as sore as my feet and feet as quick as my wit, clocks that never die, without reminder of how young we are and what little time we have left…these are but fragments of a quality night out. The moments we share in crisp vision and thought that stay with us for a lifetime.

I’m scared to admit it, but it does come to this:

My only regret is that after years of ‘hanging out’, I barely even know who you are.


Note: I wrote this in a slightly more cynical mood. Sometimes it just feels like even an entire lifetime is not enough to get to know a person.

Studying In The Library

Exams at uni are done. But it was a slow and painful process... We all like looking at pretty girls and drawing them is just as fun. I didn't even see this one's face but she had a nice dress on. She looked very stressed. I was studying for statistical mechanics PHYS385. I do believe I did ok in the exam, even though I missed out on some really simple questions I should've killed.

Sleeping At Heathrow

I drew this while we were sleeping at Heathrow airport in 2006 on transit to Dresden. We found some chairs and struggled for some shut-eye. I was wandering around at 3 in the a.m. There were men outside doing roadworks and I took some photos of the lights. The Chili Peppers may or may not have been playing on my ipod. The shops were closed and the place was virtually deserted. The CD shop had Black Holes & Revelations, Lily Allen and Keane on display behind bars. I took some tourist brochures as souvenirs. 'Welcome to Heathrow Airport' they read. They now sit under my desk, yellowing with the newspapers I brought back from Germany. Every story is about football.

On an unrelated note, I saw 2 girls with guitars yesterday. One in the morning and one in the afternoon. They both had the guitar over their right shoulder. Whether it was the same guitar or not, I'll never know. But it definitely was not the same girl.

With a voice...

I drew this while listening to chiodos for the first time- studying statistical mechanics at uni. The tables were all occupied by students prepping for exams. The boy and girl next to me were napping. A friend had dropped by and made me smile as always. I ran into someone I hadn't seen in a long time. We chatted about life and uni very briefly but it was nice. Admittedly I didn't recognise her at first, but this only lasted 1 minute or so. I studied for a solid 5 hours today...

So ask yourself, "with a voice that high, who needs girl's pants?"