'you're the cunt, donut'
Ocular Lab Inc.
31 Pearson St., West Brunswick 
opens 12 Dec 3-5pm 
continues 13, 19, 20 Dec !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
perhaps the most fucked thing about the world, is the fucked-ness of those trying to fix-it-up. but these are both kinda awesome. gay hat gay doof. x


  • Mattthew, sorry to treat the as my secretatryyy but. If yuo fresh litle pupils just popping out into the art would like little tadddies into a muddie pudddle neeed an inspiring setting to create it would be a delight if you could encourage them in teh Kerr St direction. 'CHeap n' cheerful' thats our motto x

  • $160 per month 
  • $160 bond
I finally said Hi! to Mirka on my last day at swan st, she asked if I was a painter I said yes (pffffft!) and if I had a studio at home I said no etc. She said*** Tres Bein*** (awsome! hilary!) she said a mistake is a wonderful thing, when you accidently slide the brush on canvas ( I imagined her turning to pick up a cup o tea or vino in a cluttered pit o painting, but I thinking mashing with a picture of Margaret Olley I have seen, also I miss the Margaret Prestons at NGA) this is a wonderful thing, she said turner had said it. (As romantic as this sounds, its still good, I want all my paintings to be side ways, like I wasn't there looking at it, its not personal vision, but it is, but just not even near the height of passion or crisis, its way after when you can retell the story as a gag, entertaining missery, dry as, its slippery, its not poetic accident or giving away self determination to chance, but just off centre, not artist as silo, its a nod to self awareness and the best of Po-Mo and Modernisssyism) I was a bit weird from having not eaten and had my mind on the mission of moving, I wanted it to go better i wanted to become her assistant come companion, but she sort of fobbed me off in the end and I'd run outta converssion puff, because she doesn't need it! And this is very cool, she doesn't need younger fans/faux friends to mix her tints or hand her shit and pump her up on praise, fuck that gas, she's just damn fine with her life and not needy, It is I who is theee idiot. I've been looking at her lop sided mural in the cafe all this time imagining her to want to swaddle into her life any proteeejjjaa she could find, but she is not so doey, nor run out of all the things to paint or do. You can be older but not softy. This is a good old lesson. I wanna bee woman ****comme ca****.
*tastes self*

This type of work is a play between signs and form - the signs are the lost substances of a selection of objects and images, real things made into weightless surface effects; and the form, the arrangement of selections that creates some newer, flatter, smoother meaning from them. It’s a complex game of sensation and feeling, on the one side melancholy, on the other light. 

The playfulness of the interaction of these elements is animated by a something like a sexual tension between viewer and work – it gathers the selected material into erogenous zones where meanings are concentrated, or separates them out where imaginative input from the viewer is required. If you find yourself liking it, coming up with a description to communicate this feeling might make you want to run your words together in breathless, advertorial style, as if trying to mimic the heightened concentration of the flow of associations. If you don’t, it’s easy enough to dismiss the selections as ‘meaningless’, and the work as a collection of random junk.

Tastes Self the associations take on a humanoid form – sometimes male, when it’s reminiscing over gay men’s classifieds or thinking about Corinthian columns, and sometimes female, a bit obsessed with handwash and the Garnier Fructis range, forgetting that it has left its lube lying around. But Smith and Vivian also put the work in a rural setting, a spacious society of animals and machinery. Being uninhibited, kitty litter, multi-coloured fish-tank gravel and possum shit become just as valuable decorations as glossy photos advertising the latest tractors and harvesters, or a beautiful R.M. Williams model in a ten-gallon hat, partly obscuring the view of a four-wheel farm bike. 

In the rarer moments where material elements have been physically altered in some way, not just picked off the shelf and put in position, for example, when a row of dishwashing sponges has been glued together, or an empty Perrier bottle is given a lick of pink paint, these additions look more like make-up than construction. The overall effect is that the work takes part in a beauty competition with and against itself – a flaying, bucolic fantasy that is seductive because of its narcissism, making you want to uncritically affirm that assemblage is the form of art and desire for a networked world. 

Michael Ascroft.

*tastes self* by Alex and I is open dis Sat from 12-5. Michael A. has written a thing about it that is avail at TCB. Jim snd Dan are on at TCB. it good. Show at William Mora good at moment. John Kelly at Niagra should punch himself in the nose, twice. Lucien can draw I guess, doubled sided works in hinged frames keeewl. I regret that I will leave swan street having never had the guts to say hello to Mirka Mora. oh well. x

Maybe my blog is a weird place to ask for a place to live. 
But I need one, do you have one? 

Start Time:
Friday, October 23, 2009 at 6:00pm
End Time:
Saturday, October 24, 2009 at 1:00am
Hell Gallery
5a Railway Place
Richmond, Australia


"Vivian and Smith's show is about shit youf influences, and how good they are. The two met at smith's first Melbourne exhibition Whoops Kibbutz, at Utopian Slumps, Vivian introduced himself and they got talking about growing up in the Riverina, they were interrupted, Vivian said 'that's okkkaaaayyyy were just having a rural bitch'. *Tastes Self* is about the ripped bod under a rip-curl T-shirt, coloured in with a rotten country road. the something something something and the something." Vivian and Smith, 2010


there is a better one than the one above of eva standing in the studio in her socks blows up an silly long sausage cock phallus balloon. undercut by that same cheeky grin. dirty innocent good. below me in my Elders shearers singlet at studes...

dude sitting on a toilet.
stuff found on a bit o' paper
'doing work want to be a homo. way to a new world without divisions where social group on gropu struggles are a big der and over. its not like you don't want to not grow up get married and have kids. but you wanna let it slip out your own way. homo. not tidy up. daggy egalitarian disco grouse. sex is sweeeeeeeet and not dominating. no more fighting friends. its the only group i wan to belong to - local*slippery*nice.'

off to tcb to give Grestest Hits ma stoopid cd. 

An exchange between Gambia Castle (NZ) / Joint Hassles (MEL)
Curated by Harriet Kate Morgan and Sarah Hopkinson
Opening Friday 18 September, Hell gallery, 6 til late
September 19 – October 10, 2009

Josh Petherick / Alex Vivian / Jess Lucas / Kate Smith / Harriet K Morgan / Christopher LG Hill / Lane Cormick / Rob McHaffie / Helen Johnson / Kain Picken / Nick Selenitsch / Sean Bailey / James Deutsher / Dan Arps / Nick Austin / Andrew Barber / Fiona Connor / Simon Denny / Daniel Malone / Tahi Moore / Kate Newby / Tao Wells

spaces avail at Kerr st. two at $160, one space $120. come along now lady.
'we are all fucked' Alex baker. or fucked up or thinking about fucking. snorting pigs. it makes me feel so free. Fatalism is freedom. Freedom is a corny word but I still wants is. But not just 'Freedom', freedom to do, freedom to say.I guess I'm trying to say Murphys law will always win, so I gonna stay cheap and cheerful and getting on wid it. The fuckedness is only encouraging.

xo empty ing my giant diaframe on the comunity garden. nipping some parsley for my eggs xo
sweeeeet little gran a poos. sick with flu a woos. tied her hair up a woos to go to the hairdressser a woos. so stubborn didn't tell she was sick a wooos. had piggy flu a woos. and still lives. so vain so hair. still don't know her agey wooo wooos. studied ikebana a wooo wooos. has mums year twelve pottery out a woo woos. kiss kiss xx

peta! will look into it for you, the remains are with mel at utopian so I dunno. will get on to courier next week, I keep wanting to paint on pipi/yayoi, but I guess that's imorallle cause you already paid yo clams. Today I'm doing a thing for a greatest hits publication for TCB soon. sean has a show there next week. wish yo could of been here for his release the other soir, was swell. Alex and I are are on it, but space is already fully, we have two week install, so maybe we should sit on our hands till then. There is a gambia castle swap comming up-Harriet kate is organising it an wrote a good thing. the drawing up there is from the joint hassles poster show. Egon schiele , no glove no love , rub. will get pip to you soon pup. xx
Up on the wall at Utopian Slumps and in a stacky on the floor at Sutton

rectangular, no triangular

posting off a copy of 'Heavan and Earth' to the farm. will make for some interesting discussion when I go home I bet. I like Lisa and Sam's show at Hell, I like that they went little, less gawdy, Greatist Hits video of some shearer install dude putting up there work is hell swell. Install dudes, gangs of shearers. Jock is in QLD managing a portfolio of Cattle properties. Beff is going 'ganbusters' he says. Agri-business hey? I wanna go up and get stoned with beef giants sons. I am pretty stuck into my ideas of the old money high life, polo and drugs please. Art does seem to ignore sex. I have stolen this idea, because I think it's a good one. Fiction is up in it, but not exhibitions. Dirty shows would be nice. I heart the white-cube, turns things into art, don't like sight-specific, it's a bit daggy, whiter than white thanks. didn't like Cockatoo Island, nothing in that show really dealt with that space, just borrowed its cred, forget history, forget local and forget community that feeds into whitey patriotic, get Liberal, don't join a team, not even the anarchists, the world will obnly fix up perhaps if we are allowd to not join teams, that we don't have to homogonise to sought out the environment, but that environmental decisions be a system infastructure underneath to just get the hell on with he we be over the top. Perhaps 'Heavan and Earth' has something, of course we will be wiped out one day, and so we should, hey why not, perhaps 'saving the earth' doesn't have to be about saving our own arses but more about not being jerks hey, there is something so consumer about how we are going about it. Just remember, I'm not the phoney your the phoney, jerk xx
I should write cause you look and ther is nothing new, I'm a bit drunk, have been out with mum and dad, am listening to Gugg think they have secret track, really want to  send dad to listen to matt griffin at ACCA, i think i just latched onto the bits that are about me. everytime he says my dad, dads farm i LISTEN, food hey, my vegan friends say Singer is a fuck. 
dan's grandma from a nursing home at byron bay said, dan be a peacenick, war sux

Hi Kato,
That looks familiar!!!
Can you act like old money???
Reminds me of Grandma somehow!!
Are you excited about your exhib!! Hope the installing goes well - looking forward to seeing it & you - think it will be that week of 4th May - more later.
Just got to help Dad move out the back paddock.
Love you, Mum

Hey Bill! 

!Come see some shit paintings!

can't you act like old money
by kate smith

Opens Wed 22 Apr 6-8pm
22 Apr - 9 May 2009

its a play off between creating and not making. The counterweight is more important. are artifacts to ideas o k. there in lies the rub. 

ugg lee old thingg
dudes in training
hey there is a studio space free at Kerr Street if anyone needs an awsome one. xx

po mo bo ho

I have been reading a bio on Francis Bacon. Not sure why. Cause it was on the studio floor and I was busting to read. It's called Anatomy of An Enigma. I can't even laugh, jesus christo! But he's growing on me, I love his dirty fagness, his 1930's ness, sado-boho queen......"Bacon certainly made a lasting habit of 1930's Bohemianism. Even as an old man, he would lather his face for shaving with an old sock if he had no brush to hand". I must be Bohemian after all. Trying to locate the next show around a certain time frame, I want all the times, today its can be the 30's, I think all of bo-ho modernism is up for grabs....I grabs... 

In between Anais Nin, found this

we keeps talking about irony...maybe I have had enough of that? But is the peak of it (the prick of it) or the everyday of it, the sunday newspaper magazine article on it ( i stole that idea) where it ends up something like this...
::::: The apartment is full of furnishings I find individually ugly - silver candelabra, tables with nooks for trailing flowers, enormous mulberry satin poufs, rococo objects, things full of chic, collected with snobbish playfulness, as if to say, 'We can make fun of everything created by fashion, we are above it all.'
everything is touched with aristocratic impudence::::: 

this is not enough, but a start. 

little tip dump stuff

Doing a twelve day working week. I think it's making me a bit gushy... It's good too. I feel efficent like I'm saving for something. And I am saving to cover rents and pay for my show. Which is now today starting to scare the bejesssus outta me. Not scare, well yes scare. I went to texticles (good) the other night and realised that space aint as little as I thought, perhaps I am not just going to be able to sneeze it out over a weekend!! and feel a bit flaky, at openings an stuff I'm the same saying """ Yeah I have a show comming up in april at TCB"" blargggggggggg cause cause I feel like I talk talk but don't do do. I keep thinking "privacy!". I know I feel like a liar cause I have been away from the studio for all these days, and The show so far is a few things I like on the floor. This show is going to be vaguer and kinda more 'beyond me' to exlain than usual perhaps.

Last year was very easy. I just need time at the studio coal face and it will solve.

I want to thank SHANKS! the peps who do blog, It can feel indulgent, it is, but reading honest stuff makes me feel closer to being in the studio. I just felt a bit 'believed in' last year and now I could trippppp/disappoint.*cry cry*

I wrang my brother and asked him to take a photo of the farm tip and send it too me. I was walking out to see it while home for xmas and collecting scraps like a little one, bring them back to my room that has been repainted, bieged out, by my mum and all my old trinkets, rocks and posters are gone. I am allowed to decorate again. But thats weird like pretending I am fourteen again. It was pre boarding school shrine.
The tip, has the faux brick cladding from my gran's house in it, like here house has been exploded into it. I would walk out and go 'hey life is a destructive thing and that's ok n' difficult'. I am always trying to come up with the summary of freaking everything! like the life is a uni lecture to summarise. But you can't, and that's good. Means there is lots to be done. The tip is a crack/ gutter in the creek with cheeky stuff poked into it.
Bro wouldn't take the photo, he said 'it shouldn't exist'.