My very own country

My very own country

My very own country

 

I have discovered inadvertently that I now have my very own country; how cool is that?  In a sporadically esoteric sort of a way. (See logic + proportion clothing)

Not many of us are given the opportunity to have our own country, so I hope you will join with me and make it a cause for celebration.

Welcome to Asutralia.

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A movable feast

a movable feast

A movable feast

 

Easter is a movable feast.  I’ve always wanted someone to ask me:  When is Easter?  So I could answer: Oh, Easter is the first Sunday after the first ecclesiastical full moon after the 21st of March.

Of course, it makes total sense when you think about it.

But no-one ever has. Asked me.

So in case you were wondering when Easter is, it’s the first Sunday after the first ecclesiastical full moon after the 21st of March.

What’s in the box?

What's in the box?

Search and rescue

 

My summer samples have arrived.  When I say arrived, I don’t mean arrived, exactly, I mean we again had to send out a search and rescue mission (see Still Waiting…), to Australia Post to find my 3 day express door to door delivery.

Anyway, so the parcel is here, and I’ve been staring at it for a couple of hours thinking:  Well, I should really open this now.

Or I could go and have another helping of blood orange and dark chocolate gelato and think about the ramifications of it.

Does Mark Zuckerberg have any other clothes?

Does Mark Zuckerberg have any other clothes?

Does Mark Zuckerberg have any other clothes to wear?

 

I saw a Larson cartoon of Santa, once, where he was standing in front of his wardrobe looking at seven identical red suits, and he was thinking:  What shall I wear today?

Does mark Zuckerberg stand in front of his wardrobe with seven identical grey T-shirts, and seven identical pairs of dark jeans, and think: What shall I wear today?

My dressmaker’s dummy

My dressmaker's dummy

 

Dummy hierarchy

 

My dressmaker’s dummy has a temporary assignment; she has been seconded to Brendan Penzer as an artist’s model. That’s her on the stand.  If you look closely you can see the sewing pins stuck in her neck.

This is something of a step up for her in dummy hierarchy.  She no longer wants to be known as a dummy, but will now only answer to model; I have a feeling that I’m going to be having trouble in the future with her prima donna pretensions.

Brendan, I think you may have created a monster.

Now I know you are dying to see her at Brendan’s exhibition:

Text, Politics and the Flesh
Brendan Penzer
ACDC Gallery @ CreativeHub
189 Marine Terrace Geraldton
Friday 17 June – Sat 25 June 2016

Double double decaf

Double double decaf

Double double decaf

 

I forgot to tell you that I finally went to Quiet Life (see Computers Coffee and Candy); actually I forgot to write the blog entirely.

It’s a gorgeous little café: Leila and Rhys have done such a good job.

I went with my friend Valli.  I ordered a decaf and she said: I’ll have the usual, thanks.  God, I think that’s so cool: I’ve always wanted to say that:  I’ll have the usual, thanks.  She whispered to me:  could you give that order quietly?  Do you think I want to be seen with someone who orders decaf?

Valli had ordered a quadruple shot espresso, or something, and stayed totally normal.  I, on the other hand, go hyper on a decaf.  A decaf will keep me up at night.  Is that pathetic, or what?