http://search.deviantart.com/?q=by:Angie090485&section=today deviantART RSS for by:Angie090485 en-us Copyright 2009, deviantART.com Fri, 18 Dec 2009 10:09:01 PST deviantART.com http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss http://s.deviantart.com/minish/widgets/apple-touch-icon-precomposed.png http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/15122828/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/15122828/ Thu, 18 Oct 2007 23:16:03 PDT
[link]

]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/14865421/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/14865421/ Mon, 01 Oct 2007 03:44:33 PDT
The Seventh Noir
Angela Hughes
12 October 2007
7pm

Umbrella Studio
482 Flinders Street
Townsville

]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/13045756/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/13045756/ Tue, 22 May 2007 01:18:46 PDT [link] OR [link]

]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/12772187/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/12772187/ Sat, 28 Apr 2007 22:19:29 PDT
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Confessions of a Faux Suede Couch Revolutionist

]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/12255711/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/12255711/ Tue, 20 Mar 2007 08:37:26 PDT
I also dislike artists that speak about themselves in third person when delivering a bio such as "So and dick is an emerging artist and is really great at blowing smoke up his own arse, it is too bad he/she is spending too much time talking him/herself up on the internet because he/she might actually learn how to talk/read/write/draw/paint/print/sculpt/photograph one day, maybe, but probably not." Why not just say "I am a complete loser yet I secretly love myself more than the progress of the earth as a whole." We don't need to know that you once paid some idiot to write about you.

]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/11996974/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/11996974/ Wed, 28 Feb 2007 06:38:58 PST
Please reply and I can give you an address to send your letter. If you like I can send a letter back to you with an extra stamp in it in case you want to send a letter to somebody else.

And just in case you forgot

]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/11731353/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/11731353/ Thu, 08 Feb 2007 05:47:43 PST
[link]

and contribute as much as you can. It is all explained in there. Tell other people too, that'd be real nice. I want hundreds of stuff.

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People are shitting me off today. Maybe I could make my project about the people that shit me off. Oh, the word bricolage, shits me off. Maybe that could be it, my reaction, irritation.

]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/10074843/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/10074843/ Thu, 14 Sep 2006 20:28:54 PDT
I have't said much lately, I don't have much to say. I am just very busy with uni at the moment, preparing for our exhibition that hopefully wont be entirely poo. I got a job at Perc Tucker gallery on Friday mornings, well I dont get paid, but its pretty good as the volunteer waiting list is really long, and it helps alot in that stupid "knowing people" thing that I love to hate.

Nigel brought me a domain, yay, and I fixed up my webpage as best I could. So if you go to [link] then that is me. I think that on some browsers it is a little messed up which is really annoying. It isnt to do with explorer or firefox, sometimes it works sometimes it doesnt. Oh well. I will make one less format oriented eventually.

Oriented. Did you know that there is no such word as Orientated? Well there isnt. It shits me off when people say it.

I am hungry. I am going to go eat an awesome vegetable pie. And no Loren, not because I love pie. I dont even love vegetables, I just love food when I'm really hungry.

Not many from town reads this but if you do go check out Lee Harnden's ex at perc tucker, upstairs, it is so hip with the kids its not even laughable. It's pretty good. Also go to Umbrella in the next week and see everything that is there because it is by a bunch of really cool artists, and of course GO THERE NEXT NEXT WEEK for our opening!! We might even have beer!!! That is, opposed to cheap wine. But you kids can't drink it, because your kids. I'm going to get some bitburger, that isn't out of date and flat.

Love.

]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/10045189/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/10045189/ Mon, 11 Sep 2006 22:32:14 PDT [link] and click vote, type in your email, and then verify it. It will be the only email you ever get, govt registered site so they dont spam. Tell me if you did so I can vote for myself again for you every day like the awesomely moral person I am. These things are not won by people who are good at art, they are won by people who could be bothered making up fake emails and copy+pasting the things in every day, or those who are computer geeks with programs to legitimately spam. Ahh, those people must be so talented. I wish I was so good that I could take photos of friggen knomes in melbourne and win a grand to take more photos of other figurines that I did not make myself, then I would be truly happy.

Vote for me!!

]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/9788744/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/9788744/ Sun, 20 Aug 2006 02:05:31 PDT



]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/9719764/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/9719764/ Mon, 14 Aug 2006 00:29:01 PDT
There are some fwds going around at the moment, and forever really, of baby seals being beaten to death in Canada and it is from their point of view "were so sad why are you doing this etc". The pictures are full of blood. It makes me think, because people really do forward this shit. The forwards have no evidence of proactivity, no links to a petition or a donation site for Greenpeace (Who do a tremendous amount of good when it comes to seal pelting), just pictures, and a threat that if you dont forward it then you dont care.

It is bullshit.

How is baby seal any different to lamb? Lamb is just baby sheep and veal is just baby cow, what difference is it? There is no evidence to say that a seal is any more or less sentient than a cow or a sheep, it is just that people can make themselves feel better by being against it, because it isn't in your face. You don't go to Woolworths to buy seal to cook for dinner and people generally can't afford to buy real fur clothes (however I'm sure majority would easily accept one if offered), so you aren't really given much of a choice in the matter and it is very simple to be against it. It is very easy for people to talk and talk about how terrible an injustice is, so long as they have no choice. When asked to stand up, people don't.

If I forward some cute pictures of some baby cows and speak in third person about how they are going to be slaughtered soon or they're going to grow up to be slaughtered or milked until their udders explode, will anyone forward that? No, they will not, because it is far too easy for them to be contradicted. Too easy for someone to say "hey, but you eat cow, isn't that a little hypocritical?" People like to be safe, and it shits me off.

Seal pelting is terrible, but it's not terrible because seals are cute or endangered, it's just terrible because they are being killed. That is it, there are no excuses and there are no grey areas.

If you really consider the amount of people who wouldn't think twice about eating a piece of seal as a novelty one day, along with such things as crocodiles and koalas and kangaroos, which happens, they wouldn't think twice. But they would probably quite easily send out some bullshit email with pretty pictures of a koala in the wild saying "please don't cut down my home."

Out of sight out of mind.

Being rich and giving money to charity so you can get tax cuts does not constitute as being a compassionate philanthropist. These things, they are all analogous.

Apologies for my rant, but few will listen.

]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/9705603/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/9705603/ Sat, 12 Aug 2006 18:53:36 PDT
Books are a private matter, people don’t read books together. They are an escape, where one could sit and think, pretending to read so as not to be disturbed, and they will not be disturbed. If a book is huge and on a wall, it is read, and it is read in front of people. I will make the books about my dreams and focus study on the idea of art based entirely around a dream. Such as, there are few movies, but one Japanese one in particular, that dealt entirely with dreams. Or that there are few artists who have focused entirely on dreams rather taken concepts from a dream and used them along with concepts of reality, such as the surrealists. Anyone have any examples of artists/musicians/film workers that have dealt entirely with dreams? There is Charlie Kauffman, he is wonderful, but it is just his head not his sleep. I need untainted, honest, sub-conscious rubbish!

Need to articulate myself better, as this idea is not yet very strong. Not a years worth of strength anyway. I am talking about integration of the text. I don’t want to spend a year making perfect little etchings to correspond with each particular page, my patience would never handle that. I want to illustrate a page with a toilet, only for example, and have the text cut out from pieces of card and thrown into the toilet, or a huge etching of a man in the dark with the words around his head, or my tags with a similar illustration on each tag to describe an occurrence, a movement, with a few words printed onto each tag.

These are all just hypothetical, ideas I think of now to describe what I mean, but I need to understand what I mean further and be able to explain it to someone who’s going to approve it. This is for my honours, that is already making me cry inside. Here's to next year.

]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/9683507/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/9683507/ Thu, 10 Aug 2006 20:51:24 PDT
Uni is funtastic, and one of my lecturers and one of my ish-lecturers are opening up a new gallery on the strand, for REAL art, not cheesy tourist art that you would expect to see in a gallery on the strand. It is expected to open in a few weeks, and it's going to be wonderful.

Otherwise we have an exhibition coming up next month at Umbrella Studio (Flinders St West) opening 7pm on the 26th September, with a great deal of drinking afterward.

Nigel is going to England in a couple of weeks and I will probably stop loving him for a while. It happens. I bet this is the dwelling point, but nobody will recognise that. Dear.

The end.

"I do not believe in celestial fish, only love that I can see or draw or invent. Belief cannot shape my dreams; to die is to sleep. In a fictional place I invent love as time destroys what my mind cannot." ]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/9625676/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/9625676/ Mon, 07 Aug 2006 07:21:47 PDT
I have to go back to uni tomorrow, today. I am starting to worry a little as it means I have to get back in the race and I have grown accustomed to late sleeps, monday night tv and random nights of drinking. Also I am afraid because this happens to be the last leg of the race, and then I must take a permanent holiday from holiday and childhood and set my sights on some sort of graduation, or postpone the inevitable and continue my study.

I do not know what I wish to do and although I wish I could believe I had time to decide, I really do not. I have weeks, perhaps.

Tomorrow/today, I have classes with a man I don't hold in the highest esteem. Two classes, one in which I struggle slightly. Pity, because he's someone that is supposed to be good but I don't see it.

My body is tired and my skin hurts from being clothed and cold but I will not be able to sleep well tonight. I think about a brother, as they said. As I walked past this familiar face with less than interest on my own and he took to offense and offended in return, why I bother to care for them I don't think anyone can ever tell me. Night time is so colourful sometimes. Much more colourful this year than in the past. Especially when people grow their hair and reappear from what is my apparent past, but I don't remember. I never, ever remember. I used to be one of those emos, one of those hippies, one of those idiots that changed who they were every week. One of those people I laugh at, disdain at. And I was always drunk, and not once did I make discrepancies about beginning a sentence with the word 'And' but now it is something I would easily do. Such thin ice to tread on when you know mistakes are imminent.

I don't want to graduate but graduating means leaving and I want to leave but I want to stay because I have 'stuff' to do; to finish. A name. I want to grow up but I feel so old and I want to get married but that feels so gaudy. I want tomorrow to come but I don't want to go to sleep to make it.

He didn't fill the water bottle today and I know that I will be blamed, with a joke, but with that tiny, silent and violent tinge. I make a comment about how we have to be there for the rest of our lives, and they shudder, and he laughs, and I smile, because it is okay. I make out like it's difficult but I know it's a comfortable thought. We all drink from the same bottle and perhaps that's why I have been sick for two weeks.

When you live with geeks there is always a room full of green lights.

"I do not believe in celestial fish, only love that I can see or draw or invent. Belief cannot shape my dreams; to die is to sleep. In a fictional place I invent love as time destroys what my mind cannot." ]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/9455073/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/9455073/ Sat, 22 Jul 2006 05:14:12 PDT
it is funny with daily deviations where some of them just suck and you can see that from even general populations decisions such as one that has over a thousand views from one day and still only seven favourites, obviosuly a mistake, considering the general population are click happy when it comes to daily deviations. Generally I like very few of them and not once have I ever seen a piece of printmaking get a daily deviation, and even if it did it would definately be a hip screenprint that could easily pass for a digital image. Drips and targets and all that jazz. I hate hip, it makes me cry inside. I would use the baby jesus line but I dont believe in that jingus. I wish there were more traditional deviations that were picked, it would be nice. It is funny that avalanch effect though (affect would fit also) where once a person has a DD they have the watchers and will most definately get more in the future whereas so many people fall under the radar here. So many people that have been here for a number of years and are fantastic and get little recognition, I could name so many. It is a sad affair.

Those new fancy Tooheys Extra Dry Platinum beers are lovely and alcoholic. They make my life much easier to deal with at this direct point in time.

I have recently become probably permanently estranged from my family. I am sick of explaining it but it comes from a very cliche and embarassing topic of that my younger sister means all of the world to my parents and I mean something more the size of tasmania, or antartica, where few people actually dwell, or magnetic island, entirely overated. I dont know. My graduating exhibition which I have been planning for ever so long and is now being held at a fantastic local gallery this year that they knew about for the last year, they have decided to skip because my sister wishes to attend a Living End concert the next night in townsville so they believe it is more important to bring her up to enjoy such a terribly boring band than to support me in what I have spent the last few years of my life doing. If I am missing something here in the perspective of the other side then please let me know because they dont seem to understand, and of course the young girl who finds it in her fantastic nature to do things in which I will refrain from speaking about but basically I will in no way take part in religion but I also in no way take part in backyard country hic'dome, so I just dont know where I have gone wrong. It is a pitty that I am here. Last night I took holes in my hand, such an emo thing I know but I am by far as close to being emo (besides the fact that the music and fashion is terrible) than any other emo that I know. I will admit it, I am emotionally young and fucked. I drove and to dylan and chads I got a little drunk while Nigel was on the phone standing up for my right in what I imagine to be entire vain. And then I went to dylan and chads. Where my friends were who decided that they can be my family instead because as you get older you choose your family, and my god, if ever I could choose anyone better then I would be the luckiest human being to ever have lived because they are the most fantastic group of humans I could ever wish to be around. Love.

Anyway, I am number FOUR now, so vote for me. Go here: [link] Click the +vote thing down the bottom and then the link in your email, and i will say thankyou. Love.

"I do not believe in celestial fish, only love that I can see or draw or invent. Belief cannot shape my dreams; to die is to sleep. In a fictional place I invent love as time destroys what my mind cannot." ]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/9422503/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/9422503/ Thu, 20 Jul 2006 07:32:42 PDT [link] and vote for me so I can feel that I attempted to win some money, yo. Of course it is always popularity that wins out over talent (not that it would matter either way) and I do not have popularity... not in this country anyway. Yay! So go there and click the +vote thing down the bottom and then the link in your email, and i will say thankyou. Love.

Let me know if you do please. I am now 11th in the running! yay! that doesnt mean much since first place has a thousand plus votes. Oh well.

Sorry, forgot to click the box so it wouldnt send out again.

"I do not believe in celestial fish, only love that I can see or draw or invent. Belief cannot shape my dreams; to die is to sleep. In a fictional place I invent love as time destroys what my mind cannot." ]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/9350971/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/9350971/ Wed, 12 Jul 2006 05:28:28 PDT


I just got a call from this woman that used to go to uni about a performance out at Pinnacles where a bunch of people play music and artists paint to the music, hippy shit, and she wants me to go out and be one of those hippy artists. Dammit, if I say no I am an idiot and if I say yes I risk having some sort of panic atack because I can barely talk to people without being drunk let alone get up in front of people and do what I am most self conscious about. And I dont want any people to say "oh but angela dont be such a wuss you are a good painter" well even if I was, everything I do is organised previous, I'm not a fricking hippy! And I have a very minute taste in music so I will probably just stand there thinking about how stupid I think the music is. DAMMIT. I hate this.

In other news we got the main space at Umbrella studio for our exhibition in September, quite a relief, although now it means I have to start doing real work again.

"An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind."-Gandhi. ]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/9319177/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/9319177/ Tue, 11 Jul 2006 20:02:10 PDT


Mood: Tired
Listening to: Plea From a Cat Named Virtue

I always have these ideas, like a heap of pages worth of word text ideas of what i want to do, but i never do them because i am constantly thinking "what can that be assessed for, how does that fit into my exhibition project?" and it shits me. I hate themes, I hate the bullshit idea of artists having to have a stupid style for their entire lives, and unfortunately it is those that hold a style that are definately recognised, but I'm never going to have a "style" or a constant theme or any other shit because I just get bored too easily. I'm already bored with my year topic, how do you keep with one thing for a whole year???

I am just a little tired of feeling like I am just stuffing around waiting to graduate so I can supposedly go off and discover the rest of my fucking life, I've never left school and I'm 21 now!! What is that??? Going off to uni four bloody years ago was supposed to be the beginning of the rest but nothing has begun yet, its the same old stupid rut in a different, slightly bigger, slightly more bigotted town with worse weather and pretend beaches. Damn it. I want to grow up instead of old, out instead of in. When I stopped drinking like a maniac I got bored and cynical and when I started taking responsibility I got critical and became a perfectionist. Now I have absolutely no idea what I want to do and that time that I have to decide is fast approaching.

I do not want to stay on at jcu next year because as I have expressed previously many times, it is the shittest most shit organisation that any shit could have shit, and I feel ashamed to be getting a piece of paper with their header worth a heap of money and far too much time wasted. If it was the same people in another place in another time under another set of rules then I would be in love with my situation but right now I am running out of time and filling up with useless ideas that will never get me anyway.

I can write, but I cannot write academically, and there are so many people that believe they will click their fingers and get where they want to get, but I dont have the naivety or persistance to believe that anymore. I think I want to do post grad because I can and I feel stupid with just this degree, not because I want to, and I sure as hell don't want to do it here. It is like someone said, there are those that respect art and business who will get jobs and there are those that are artists that will die to make money for business. Fuck them. It is too cold to go naked and too warm to wear clothes, so fuck them, I'm just going to have to wait. That is all, nobody.

]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/9175639/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/9175639/ Mon, 03 Jul 2006 22:48:35 PDT

http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/9143493/ Thu, 22 Jun 2006 01:09:22 PDT ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/9074643/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/9074643/ Fri, 30 Jun 2006 02:52:57 PDT
I am doing a bit of research into possible further study at the moment, in the rise of photocopied artist books. I am just asking around if anyone does or knows of anyone who does, or has, made photocopied artist books before (that sentence made little sense so apologies.)

They are just artist books that are made cheaply in that each page is photocopied and then they are bound traditionally or even just stapled so they can be dodgily mass produced and then they are distributed around the place. I have seen them around a fair bit in the last year but nothing exceptional has gone into the study or recording of the existence of this newish art form.

So anyway, sorry if this has been annoying and terribly boring to read but basically if you do or no of anyone who has absolutely anything to do with photocopied artist books, that would be fantastic, and could you let me know. Thankyou, very much.

Angela.

]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/9027387/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/9027387/ Sat, 10 Jun 2006 11:35:44 PDT
Chienne would indulge herself with the most expensive wine the Kingdom had to offer, and then she would make her way into the village to attend to what she considered to be her livestock, the village men. She would attend beautiful balls with hoards of young men asking her for her hand in marriage. They offered her the idea of a lovely future with many children and a willing ear to listen to her every command and love her in return.

She was not interested.

She was not interested in the aristocrats or the academics. She was not interested in marriage or children. She did however, immensely enjoy the attention.

As the nights would close, Chienne would leave these extravagant parties while nobody was looking. She would walk the streets in the darkness, searching for the first pleb or married man that she could find and upon introducing herself, she would immediately engage in carnal relations, although she refused to talk to the men at any stage. If by chance they attempted to contact her after the act, she would have them executed or exiled for some such crime. She did not have time for useless courting.

Each time Chienne woke up from one of these nights, she would feel a tinge of guilt and make her way down to the kingdom’s parish to confess her sins. She considered herself to be a very holy woman and if she was going to secure her place in heaven, the priest came in handy quite often. She could feel good about herself again after the few moments of doubt.

Chienne had few friends, but she happened to like it that way. She had people that would occasionally engage in conversation with her should she force them to do so, but most of them had extreme distaste for her or were simply afraid of her. The prospect of their conversational skills not pleasing her entirely was slightly scary as she would run to her father, the King, and cry the innocent victim. This often ended in Chienne not having to deal with that particular “friend” again, and some good entertainment, which never went astray.

Chienne did, however, have four friends that had the courage, or stupidity, to stick around. They were well aware of her conceited selfishness but they hoped for those days when it felt as though Chienne was a normal person, with emotions. Unfortunately, the friends grew weary at times and would disappear for long periods, having excuses as to why they could not see her. Chienne kept them around longer than she did any other of her friends, but took every opportunity to bad mouth them when they were not around. They were also aware of this as they spoke to each other on many occasions.

Chienne was a princess, and anything that she desired, she got. As she grew older she realised there were some things that were more difficult to retrieve than others and on one of her night adventures into the village she happened across one of the four friend’s fiancé. Without wasting any time, she ordered him to give her what it was she wanted. She was not interested in him, she was only interested in what damage having him would cause. Unfortunately for Chienne, this young man was not at all influenced by her power and sent her on her way with laughter that rang in her ears.

Chienne could have wanted revenge for this, but she was not a vengeful person, no, she was apathetic. She did not care that he did not want her or that throughout the entire kingdom, not one ounce of respect for her had ever existed. She liked to pretend she was spiritual and that she gave to the poor and was in tune with the workings of the universe and what was going on around her. In reality, Chienne was a hedonist. She lived only to make herself happy.

One day Chienne woke up and her four friends had grown up without her, and left the village in search of the meaning of life, a concept she did not understand. That same day Chienne went into the village and realised that every possible man that she could choose to court should she wish to court a man, had either been executed or run out of town by order of her own mouth. One day Chienne woke up and realised that her hedonistic and selfish nature had ironically come back to her, and now she was miserable and alone. She finally knew what was wrong with her life, but of course, decided to confess her sins and fix it later.

What she didn’t know was that God did not really exist, and she was forgiven for nothing. ]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/8927304/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/8927304/ Wed, 31 May 2006 05:41:19 PDT ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/8832220/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/8832220/ Sun, 21 May 2006 06:21:36 PDT
There was this light that I could just see from across the street and there was a man inside the light, stuck, always. He liked to stare but I realised after a while that the only reason I knew that he liked to stare was because I liked to stare as well. Half the time he was naked. Most of the time he was naked. I never told anyone about him. I just laughed. Until one day he was gone.

A made up book of made up dreams to give to a made up man. The man that lives in the dust that sticks to the curtain to the window to stop us looking out and feel safe when we know that nobody is looking in. There is light that shines through in the morning and not again until night, once all the light is gone, because the only time you can imagine that it’s there is when your asleep and your not really there. Nobody is every really there. It’s not a real face. There are five tiny rings that sit tarnished on the windowsill. Because she told her they were made of real silver, but they were not. Just because they have numbers engraved onto them does not mean that they will stay young forever. Nothing stays young forever. Any sort of change is a sign of age. Such as the statue of liberty, a symbol so fucking important to such a large amount of people when it was given in malevolence and now it is green and old and ugly. Stuck in the landscape, a sign of pride. If only it was tiny. Tiny enough to stop the light and still stare out the window. So alone, so high. That’s what happens when you’re proud. You get stuck in the sky.

Speakers. Speaking words, with nobody to listen. Stupid things are always broken. There is this time when nothing seems right and this colour of purple with these stupid modern flowers that every stupid graduate from a bachelor of some sort of crappy soul destroying design degree knows how to draw, all over it. I hate those stupid flowers. If the student knows how to animate then the flowers will be seen to be moving or growing. Depending on how indi the student is, there might be stars, but there will always be flowers. Its cool to like flowers again, not cheesy. Girls can look like girls again, so long as they have that cutting edge of rotten punk. Stupid girls. Stupid idiots that encourage the stupid girls. It is difficult because once when I thought all the way to know what a person was if they were independent and appeared to be different but now every idiot doing the same shit that everyone else is doing is wearing the same. Red and black. Red and black. I loved those colours. They fucking took them and turned them into clothes and raped the fucking shit out of them. Is it bitter of me, stuck up of me and pretentious of me to be paranoid that these idiot clones destroyed everything I thought I was going to be simply by growing up? No you are not an artist. No you are not a feminist. No you are not a writer, a poet, a vegetarian, a punk, a musician, a hippy, a rebel. No you are not everything, you are just a broken fucking mirror of your ex best friend who you decided to hate one day because you were feeling the age you are which is twelve. The way it fucking works, you bunch of useless turds. I hated that girl, in the red ribbons and cherry covered dress. With her black hair and pretentiously placed tattoos. Piercings she got on sale, as she cried. I hated her because everyone else loved her and she had the guts to pretend she was something when I sit and pretend I'm nothing, all the time. I hated her. She was everyone. ]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/8743399/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/8743399/ Thu, 11 May 2006 19:02:09 PDT ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/8637317/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/8637317/ Mon, 01 May 2006 03:25:42 PDT
Does anyone know what this is from? I brought a very good book In Brisbane. ]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/8586067/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/8586067/ Tue, 25 Apr 2006 20:39:31 PDT ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/8514204/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/8514204/ Tue, 18 Apr 2006 18:56:40 PDT
]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/8504702/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/8504702/ Mon, 17 Apr 2006 21:03:53 PDT ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/8456906/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/8456906/ Thu, 13 Apr 2006 08:08:34 PDT Nick Cave.
David Wenham.
John Safran.

I Love Australia.

And if I dug girls Emma Lung would be the femme of choice. ]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/8445933/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/8445933/ Wed, 12 Apr 2006 07:09:54 PDT
Go Dave Hughes.
And Go Illiteracy.
I am so funny. ]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/8339687/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/8339687/ Sun, 02 Apr 2006 03:08:18 PDT
Half the semester is almost over. Its crazy time. I have an essay due in two days and I stressed about it an awful lot, to recently find out it is only worth 5% so now I am just going to tell it how it is. Violent porn is not cool in art. The end.

It is my birthday next weekend. I will be 21 and I dont want to have a party anymore as most of my close friends are going to be busy. It makes me pretty sad. Especially when I really didnt want to have one in the first place because I knew that would probably happen and they all said that I had to have a party and then now they are ditching me for other things, which I suppose are justified things, but it doesnt mean I am going to feel happy about it. My family will be here, that will be awesome though. I am going to drink expensive beer and have fun, no matter what, yay.

We are having carrot, tofu and pesto lasagne. Cant spell that word. It is very nice and my favourite thing to cook, besides chickpea curry. That too, is very nice. Food is so good. Mock fish is so good. Potato, is so good.

I am going to try and get a studio space in the city for our exhibition, perhaps even two or three studio spaces, if they exist. They are only $100 a month, which is better compared to the few thousand were probably looking at for the old Townsville Art and Framing building. I dislike real estate people, almost as much as used car salesman. But real estate people make themselves look nicer by having classy offices as opposed to trailers in a yard with those annoying flappy fluro flags. Bastards. Speaking of cars, my car is broken for good now. It makes me sad that we still have to pay a bit on it. Two grand a bit. For a really shit car that never really did what we wanted it to do (drive on the highway, at all) and had a few more thousand spent on it just to derust it. This was from a used car salesman, I do believe they have no heart. Now this makes life slightly difficult that there are three of us and one car. Good thing the boys are all healthy and bike riding and stuff. I am afraid of riding on the road but maybe one day I'll be a true hippy and give away my dependency on vehicles. I am not a bevan, I just have to take alot of shit to uni every day. I hate bevans. They make me sad for human kind.

Tschüs. ]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/8270629/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/8270629/ Sun, 26 Mar 2006 02:03:12 PST
Everyone else should be put through intensive courses on the quality of scraps. ]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/8180211/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/8180211/ Thu, 16 Mar 2006 16:03:58 PST [link] What is this? DD and a hundred and something favourites. I do not understand sometimes, idiots will fave anything that is DD just because they are told that it is good. This isnt good, there is nothing good, and that is the same with half of the shit boring photographs that get put on DD. My idiot, these people are stupid. Stupid. I can say this sort of thing also because it is the way the art world works, people will put shit on your work time and time again and there isnt alot you can do about it. Art is crap. Crap, crap, crap. ]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/8165059/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/8165059/ Wed, 15 Mar 2006 23:33:20 PST
PS-I got interviewed by the townsville bulletin today and tomorrow I have to go do some shit photo thing at perc tucker! Im going to be famous or some shit. yay me. ]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/8071268/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/8071268/ Sun, 05 Mar 2006 05:14:34 PST
I was sitting on a park bench and Daniel barker came to talk to me but there was a man in the field who shot Daniel Barker dead. I hid where I could not be seen but instead of shooting me the man handed me an empty pub squash bottle and laughed. It was the weapon and now I had the prints. When he walked away I cleaned off the bottle and put it in the bin.

I made my way to some lecture room where there were a lot of people and one that looked a little like Cher. I do not know why. Either way, I kept trying to get back to John just to say good bye if nothing else, get some more information. But I could not. There had been some sort of riot between the prisoners. Suddenly it was 3.30 and I knew that John was dead. I felt so guilty like he had died alone.

I thought about how our exhibition would now open without him and this was funny because I also considered the fact that I had thought about the prospect of John dying previously to this and that we would have a memorial exhibition for him and he would become famous purely on his apparent crime. I thought about that thought. I thought about how Kim had just moved up and it made him so happy and excited. I thought about how I still had books that belonged to him and that now I would keep them. I was just so sad that he was gone and that he died alone with nobody.

Suddenly Annette was there. I was crying and she was concerned. There was some sort of pub in the background. I told her that John had just been killed, executed. She did not appear surprised. I said it was for the murder of those two twins, little girls, that had been burnt, but that I knew he did not do it. It was on one of those shows and then suddenly they came for John. Annette said she knew it was not John and that she had proof. I asked her what it was and she said she could not say as she was in danger. I realise that this is selfish and she should have found the most possible way to tell this so that John would not take the fall for it like he had but I was not angry. I just told her that as soon as the danger was passed she should tell the public because then John could have died with an innocent name, at least.

There was threat so I had to get into the car and drive away, but someone else was driving, I don’t know who. I hate it when that happens. They pulled up on the side of the road at the top of the hill and it felt so out in the open and terrifying. Somehow we appeared inside a very old dark house and my cousin was talking about the creaks of an old house. She said an empty old house creaks very loud but an old house with one person creaks even louder and makes you feel very anxious. She told me that she now lived by herself in an old creaky house. I thought about John’s cell and John’s house and something had made itself clear, although I do not know what. I was just anguished that there was no point what I found out, no point beyond pride anyway, because John was dead. ]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/8012986/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/8012986/ Sun, 26 Feb 2006 21:02:28 PST
I said I would get him some Panadol and bandages and went off up the road to my own house where I lived with many people. One being a Rastafarian type fellow who was also from Bowen, and had worry on his face when he told me of a young lad who was also from Bowen who had searched him out to find drugs. This fellow was worried about the future of our children. I grabbed the stuff I needed and was warned about a storm that would be above us very soon and that I should get back as quick as possible.

I ran back as fast as I could, along with the stick I was given to protect myself against the darkness. When I made it back to the three guys, I call them guys as they were early twenties and to me that is not yet men. The term “men” still makes me feel as though I am a child and they are much older. One was American and he asked me if I liked American football. The one whom I considered the nicest laughed and said that Australian’s are not interested in American football. I added that I did not even like Australian football and in fact, I did not like sport at all.

This is when the nice one somehow took hold of my weapon and began hitting me in the very centre of the top of my head. At first I was confused and did not know whether he was playfully hitting me and accidentally did not realise his own strength. Then I knew that I was being attacked. I thought perhaps I should let it happen and hope for the best but then I remembered every horrible television program I had seen for the last few years and knew that it wouldn’t end well. This is when I woke up.

I was very aware of the darkness in this dream and I can picture the area in which it was. The houses were like cottages, like the houses in St Kilda maybe. With broken picket fences and once pretty but now dead flowers in the front, probably violet petunias, and peeling paint perhaps full of asbestos and once considered okay.

Why do I have dreams that end this way.

I can understand dreams where there is oppression from the very beginning. Where you start out running and you end running. Or falling. Or hiding. But there was an obvious tension throughout the whole dream and the antagonists had faces, they were not just attackers who I will never remember. They were actual characters that spoke words and yet at the end my mind chose to make them bad, as it usually does everything that I dream about. It is as though I dream in movies or books, in stories. Always conscious of somebody watching yet not conscious enough to stop this kind of thing from ending in the same way every time.

PS-I have shit all friends and it makes me sad and angry at the same time. Craazy. ]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/7984456/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/7984456/ Thu, 23 Feb 2006 19:30:16 PST
PS another thing I notice thats crap about people on DA is that alot of the "vector" art is just the cutout filter and photoshop. No matter how much they swear that it isnt, it just is. You can tell, so easily, it is not funny. Hey maybe they put a transparent layer on and traced over the cutout filter, I dont care, its still dodgy. And doesnt look that great really. ]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/7977084/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/7977084/ Thu, 23 Feb 2006 01:41:53 PST ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/7840800/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/7840800/ Wed, 08 Feb 2006 19:09:57 PST
Not that anyone reads this but if you feel like sitting down for a day during o week then that would be el fantástico. I myself think Mouldens office would be better as we could take turns to go to the club for beer. ]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/7822181/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/7822181/ Mon, 06 Feb 2006 18:50:38 PST
"Pray that she remains proud and strange and so hopelessly hopeful. Wishes and prayers are the way that we leave the lonely alone and push the wounded away." I like that.

"I swear I way more than half believe it when I say that somewhere love and justice shine. Cynicism falls asleep. Tyranny talks to itself. Sappy slogans all come true. We forget to feed our fear." I like that too. ]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/7792193/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/7792193/ Fri, 03 Feb 2006 16:38:20 PST ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/7767795/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/7767795/ Wed, 01 Feb 2006 04:47:31 PST ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/7680568/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/7680568/ Sun, 22 Jan 2006 21:30:40 PST [link] that is a link to his site. I want to buy his cds, he is nice sounding. He makes me think that I might just like Australia again, sometimes. Just not Townsville. My tummy hurts today. Ive run out of ideas for exhibitions so Im starting work on journals. I still have no idea what theme to take on for an entire year. It scares me because I get bored of things far too easily. Anyway. ]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/7645070/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/7645070/ Thu, 19 Jan 2006 03:35:48 PST ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/7641790/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/7641790/ Wed, 18 Jan 2006 17:29:34 PST
Anyway, someone vote between these [link] [link] and [link] PLEASE. ]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/7613162/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/7613162/ Sun, 15 Jan 2006 17:31:53 PST
- Dr Seuss

]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/7578406/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/7578406/ Wed, 11 Jan 2006 21:21:34 PST ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/7514161/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/7514161/ Thu, 05 Jan 2006 03:37:35 PST ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/7491676/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/7491676/ Mon, 02 Jan 2006 18:10:45 PST
I wondered if Mum and Dad would be pissed off that I left Townsville and I was actually pissed off that I had made that jump and still ended up at some lame uni. But it was supposedly the “Griffith” campus which meant that it was arts only, but I was a little confused as all the other college people seemed to be the cliché jock idiots that were at college in Townsville. Oh well.

Nigel came to visit me, which kind of reminded me of the existence of him. I thought I was asleep or something but then he asked me for chocolate and I knew he was real, even though Nige doesn’t eat chocolate much. It was some big bar of white shit, although in my hand it felt a lot smaller than it was.

Nigel told me about his plane trip here and how at first they had to fly down the strand before they could take off, and some guy got killed. Apparently he sped up to the side of the plane and told the pilot that he could do a better job and the pilot defended himself by putting the jets on, which pushed the plane forward and caused the man to have an accident. He stumbled into some shop front but nobody knew what to do and by the time the ambulance came, he was gone. I’d had a similar experience earlier in the week when we were taking off and there was a woman on the lane holding her son. I wondered why she was standing in the middle of a creek bed like that and why she didn’t run off as she had plenty of time. Who knows, perhaps the plane lifted in time. We never bothered finding out what had happened.

Anyway, when Nigel was down we went for a walk but ended up under some abandoned building when we were trying to get back to the college. There was some dirty crazy hobo sitting there, he was kind of young. I was scared he was a junkie and then I remembered where we were and tip toed to the edge of the building, as there were old syringes everywhere. The junkie yelled at us to be careful because he thought he was possessed by Satan and he didn’t know when Satan might come out! I was fairly afraid so we climbed back up to the top. It was really difficult actually, the climbing. It was through all this weedy thorn bush stuff and it seemed to be such a strain on Nigel’s body that he was covered in scratches and had lost so much weight that he almost looked like the Western ideal of Jesus! I suppose that was me hallucinating though, perhaps I wanted someone to fight off Satan guy. I climbed to the top and helped him over. That was when we realised we could have very easily walked around the whole thorny wall thing, but these things happen.

Back at college I realised that I hadn’t locked my door, which was really stupid. Nothing was stolen or anything but it kind of got to me that now I had to be conscious of locking it every single time I left the room. You don’t realistically do that every time you leave your room in a normal house. I was really pissed off that I had to live in a college, as I’ve always hated college people and college life. Then we had lunch, which was vegemite sandwiches. Apparently our mothers had to make us five days of lunches before we left every time and the college wasn’t responsible for food. I didn’t even know if I had any money left at all! That was really the end of it, I just wanted to go back home and be with Nigel again and study at that shitty uni called Jcu Vincent campus corner of Palmerston and Fulhum road, Townsville.

I stood there for ages thinking about everything that had happened in the last week and that it couldnt have been a dream. Thats when the almighty questioning began, perhaps I am dreaming because I do dream elaborately. Then I knew I was dreaming, although I didnt know if I was dissapointed or not. Then some guy rang about our freezer being totally stuffed and how we owe him $50, bastard. ]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/7419388/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/7419388/ Mon, 26 Dec 2005 02:24:45 PST
I always loved Christmas but I think im over it now. ]]> ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/7360178/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/7360178/ Tue, 20 Dec 2005 03:02:37 PST ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/7349646/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/7349646/ Sun, 18 Dec 2005 21:30:59 PST ~Angie090485 http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/7312963/ http://Angie090485.deviantart.com/journal/7312963/ Wed, 14 Dec 2005 19:26:52 PST I hate you more than sexists.
I hate you more than racists.
I hate you more than christian fundamentalists.
I hate you more than rich people who care only for the fact that they are rich.
I hate you more than the intentionally illiterate.
I hate you more than paying for education.
I hate you more than mass media lies and coverups.
I hate you more than stupidity.

I hate you more because you are all of those things and more.

"Hey you communist, shut the fuck up!" What is this? How is this mature? How is this right? Especially when most of the people wearing these shirts dont know what they are talking about and their beloved fascist whom they are supporting would probably drop them in an instant, breaking their idiotic blind little hearts, because it is bad media exposure for him, it is not funny to most people.

Right now, more than ever, I hate being an Australian. This worried me because I dont want to be European and I dont want to be American and I dont want to be anything else in the world, because I grew here and liked it here. That is it, it is a small world and there is literally nowhere to run or hide these days.

I feel alone because I am just stuck being here with nobody to talk to all the time, no friends, people that get pissed off at me just because I cant shut the fuck up when I am upset about something and I get upset about things so much, and currently, being in Australia is what upsets me. I hate it here. I hate human beings and government, no matter what it is. Even the Greens are a mob of children half the time. I kind of hate Nigel for making me someone who gives a shit because I went through so much of my life feeling sorry for certain issues but not having the energy to get pissed off about it and now I just cant stop myself. ]]> ~Angie090485