T 4 2 & 2 4 T

Working on the same project, can really start to stagnate any ideas you might have floating upstairs. All briefs should come with a mandatory expiry date- especially if you've been sleeping, dreaming, drinking your ideas for the past month.

The project I refer to is my Tea brief. It was inspiring and fresh when I first flipped through the pages. If pulled off, I would definately beable to scratch a notch in my creative bedpost.

It hasn't been as easy as I thought it would (Don't get me wrong, I definately believe in challenging myself- but come on... my mind has closed its doors and I'm left staring at a blank piece of paper- any creators most feared dead-end.)

I've tried going outside to get fresh air, but that's only caused my mind to concoct stories of prancing hippies and kaleidescope teapots. (This is what air pollution does to a person!). I don't think the target market would buy into something like that- so I've decided to scrap that idea and go back to the drawing board. The wastepaper basket has become my best friend, the pencil has been sharpened and I've even contemplated shoving it into me arm to put me out of this miserable brain drain....

I've now resorted to thumb-sucking... It's becoming a painful proccess since I have a tendancy to bite (hahahhahaha- get your bloody mind out the gutter). Anways, lets just say, I've lost the top layer of skin on me thumb.

In a desperate attempt to link some thought to tea I...... switch from a good cuppa inspiration to hardcore liquor...CHEERS!

Bunny any1?

I know my last post was an animal related one, but I couldn't help the recurring theme; since the Easter holidays are on the way. As you know, I'm not one for commercialization of the holidays, even though it's religious.

Living in South Africa (I'm not going to go into too much detail about that- I might save it for a future post) is kind of blah- in respect, that there is a fusion of so many cultures and religions, thus inducing indifference.

[Huh? Whose wordsmith did I just gobble. I think it must be the 4 units of alcohol swimming through my blood stream]

Anyway, back to the matter at hand...

Ever wondered how you make a bunny lay an Easter egg? I know it's an obsurd question, but it's a perfectly reasonable one!

I suppose it depends on what size egg you want the the bunny to lay: small- being chicky size. meduim- turkey size and large- ostrich size. You now have to exercise your egg-negotiation skills. It's all about what's in it for the layeé. Nothing's for free these days. I've found that the lil wabbits aren't easily coaxed to the task by the clichéd carrot. It's about pulling out the big guns- it's forking out the dosh and organising the most seductive playboy bunny show (how do you think these sex icons came about?). Once the bunnies are hot and bothered they give in blindly, to pushing out as many eggs the wicker easter basket can carry. You're now left with the task of Egg-Decoration 101... Is it a multi-coloured, patterny one that screams kindergarden kid meets the graffiti crew? Or is it a plain boring coloured foil one?

And there you have it... The origin of the chocolate easter egg will never be confused again!

Have a great Easter peeps, and enjoy munchin' on your eggies ;)

Cockadoodle Doo

The terrible tale started when the little red-flopsy-headed rooster got it’s scaly toothpick leg chopped off, when the butcher plonked it onto the chopping board for Saturday lunch. The poor thing flapped it’s wings frantically in vain, to try and escape the evil cluches of the evil butcher man. The carving knife glistened as the ray of light zapped through the kitchen window. He lifted the knife in sick enthusiasm and brought it down with guillotine force. Ka-chop went the knife as it sliced through the poor roosties leg that was left kicking and screaming. Through the blood splattered chaos the rooster managed to escape and limp to safety. The evil butcher ran after the rooster, but his fat belly made it hard for him to keep up. The rooster hobbled to the chicken’s pen... And that’s when the chickens stopped pecking at the ground to look up- they cracked up immediately. The coup laughed and kicked the one-legged freak rooster.

(Nasty chickens!)

P.S. This story was written with no ill intent. It might appear sadistic and tragic but that's life... I am a mere observer.

Going down deep...

Lately I've been caught up with briefs over me head (pun totally intended) so I've decided to scratch around my draw of emotions and pull out some previous inner workings of my mind- or lack there of.

These poems were written in the moments before sleep whisked me away...

*Note: Poems best enjoyed with a drink in hand, an open mind and a box of tissue (used either to wipe away the clichéd tear of melancholy or to Kleenex the *!¿# off the screen).



Restless whispers meander through my velvetine heart
where questions envelop my paper-thin thoughts.

It all feels like an uplifting quick sand moment.
A fulfilment of melodramatic realization,
seems to enlighten the ravenesque plane.

Myriad of jewels float through the transparent opening
and embalm my numbness.

Millions of shards lay on the discarded surface
admired for a tranquil, breathless moment.


_________________________________________________________


When all is quiet and people sleep,
The moondog howls out a saddened weep.
Lights flicker dimly as slumber falls,
It’s butterfly spirit sends out muffled calls.
Life dream condenses into a world of grim,
A silent wind blows out your endless whim.
Night slowly fades into the shadows path,
Sun-kissed air rises on a fragrant aftermath.


_________________________________________________________


Tangible thoughts dripped in acidic memories.
(They were here but now they are gone...)

An iciness wafts through a cavernous pit-
It was once a bonfire of forgotten discards.

The eeriness hangs on muted lips...

A recurring mass dragged out to dry,
Marred shivers of rapid realization.

Involuntary steps, mechanically moving-
Dwarfed by an unbearable inability.

The horizon etched on a salivating grasp...

And despite the unmalleable,
The shape still casts a shadow.


_________________________________________________________


I know this goes against my character of mad lovin' but as a multi-dimentional soul I must vent...
I promise the next post shall be a silly sausage one...

Till then doods!

Welcome to the darkside....

This is gonna be another lame arsed post. Muh life still blows custard worms. I apologise profusely to those of u that read this and think, "Cud this punk waste anymo of my time? I need counselling to heal me from these mental wounds!" Well tuff turtleneckers... u came here on ur own accord, so u shant be thinking any negatives wen reading this blasted entry!

Ummm... well that leads me to me next riveting point- actually I'm still picking me brain for something to write on. GOT IT!!! hahahha....I read this marketing article about how there's been a move toward the morbid in street art, fashion and cute collectible toys. It was a real refreshment from the lovey dovey, goodwill cheer that's clogged the marketing pipes for the past few years. Even though the re-emergence of the whole 80's punk thing could have sparked the doom and gloom theme- I know I welcome it with open arms. The sinister undertones definitely appeal to me. Some good examples of where this creepy has been crawling:

• The 55 DSL "Dark Tales" campaign
• Tim Burton's sinister Death of the Oyster Boy characters.
• Cutting edge Australian brand Schwipe launched their new line of clothing called "The Brain range" all adorned with Grim Reapers and other gory motifs.
• Adidas sneaker range sports the skull and cross bone insignia
• Street art found in NY's Lower East side and Williamsburg, Brooklyn offers evidence of nightmarish gore in hipster creativity.
• Cashmere designer, Lucien Pellat-Finet added a hint of the darker side to his collection with the skull theme.


I love it, I love it! Finally peeps are catering for us freakish fellas (and I do use that term very loosely). When I find the time in my chaotic day, I'll try and google some links or pic refs on the above for those of u interested muppets. (or if any of u readers beat me to it- hook a sista up aye :D)

In da mean time keep sifting thru da moosh of hypocrisy...

Post-It?

Umm, Iv been in hiding for the last cupla days, cos I haven had anything interesting to share wit chas. Muh life at the mo has been a rollacoasta delux. Too much bollix on my plate. I dun know if i'm Arthur or Martha?! The only cool thing is- I've finally gotten a raise at work. YAY!!! Now I can go splurge... yeah right!

Top 10 things i'd like to buy:

1) Waterbed- I've always wanted one since I was a kid. They just look like a whole lotta fun :D SploOsh, SploOsh!
2) Authentic Jukebox from da '60's- hardcore :D
3) Legit chef knives- What's a cook witout his slashers?
4) Pink minature oinky- coot lil critters those.
5) Decks- Iv always wanted to be a spin-sta.
6) Prickly Cactus garden- no comment :D
7) Tattoo under muh foot- tis a sneaky lil place or stinky even.
8) Ticket to New York.
9) Spending money for da trip to New York.
10) Extra suitcases for all da shiz I buy in New York.

A girl can always dream. Iv always wanted to marry rich, but all the rich guys are either twats, old, married, gay, bi, cheaters, have hairy chests, have too little hair on their heads, snore, egotistical, have no fashion sense, smoke cigars, wear too much cologne.... Ha, and I wonder why im still single :D