Francoise Nielly

Seeing someone like Francoise Nielly effortlessly paint one of these (look her up on youtube), is HA-mazing. She paints on HUGE canvas' with only a knife and oil paints. She bases them off black and white photographs to get the shadows, hues and tones.

Anyway, google her, youtube her, praise her. Do whatever you like. If only if only, us simple minded beings could create something as hu-mazing as these.... UUuurhhhh, *droool

Hoarder Part 2.

If you are a faithful reader, or perhaps stumbled upon here once, you may have read the hoarding post I did. About the old man who live down my street, hoarding stuff? Yes, well even if you don't, I'm sure you can follow along by simply nodding and say 'ohhh, yeah' every once and a while. SO, as my mother and I drove towards the homestead, we saw that he was unloading/loading things in and out of his van! Imagine a little old man, wearing a pink, floral-y bucket bat, a friendly smile on his face, pants that are too big for him, a HUGE, vintage, Indian belt and a shirt or two, accompanied by a pair of cool shoes and braided bracelets on either wrist. Now, he may seem a little strange at first glance, I mean don't get me wrong, he is a little, but DAMM this guy is coool. We put the window down and asked him about the vintage bike that had been leaning up against his van, turns out it was his. Dam. Good news, he sells a lot of his stuff, and sells a lot of bikes! He was super nice, and very well spoken (not as odd as we had originally thought!) He got down our address so he could send us a note (he doesn't have a phone you see), and instead of whipping out a note pad, or an old receipt to write on, he wrote on the side of his otherr van that was still drivable. There on that space, between the back window and the front window, were countless other notes-grocery lists, people and the things that they wanted to buy from him and just little reminders in general. OMG, if only I had a bad-ass grandpa like that. He is so nice, and harmless that everyone in the community loves him, and that is why he hasn't been evicted yet either. I always see him chatting to people as they drive or walk past, wether they're strangers, locals, or old friends, everyone luuurvvss him! Yay I'm getting a bike!!

D-D-D-dance class

Now, until I become a world renowned blogger, and dye my hair blue, both of which may, and possibly will never happen, We all know what I'm talking about when I mention dance class. So, we all have had different experiences, weather it's sweaty, clammy boys, or shuffling back and forth in the one spot, being selected by the perverted dance instructor and forced to dance the samba with him, running into people you thought had ceased to exist as soon as you left primary school many years ago, your hair flying madly, encasing your face in a ball of hair as you pass the fan, whipping your poor partner receptively in the face, wearing shoes that you can no longer walk in (just a side note; suck it up-Hobbling down the street like a monkey forced into a pair of heels is not faltering. You look ridiculous, and if you bought them, and chose to wear them, then you have to suck it up. You know how it's going to feel. And you know what's undoubtfully going to happen, so, either wear them and pretend like it's not hurting.... or hobble down the street like Peter Petigrew, your choice) SO no matter what type of experience you've had, wether it's been good or bad, hopefully you've learnt that none of us can dance.. at all....

Blah. blah.blahhh

Finally. Friday is here. I think I'll learn a thing or two from these moscas

Francais

So, I've been riffling through rather small portion of the things, jammed and squashed into my computer. And can I just say, Computer, thankyou for being you. Thankyou for being stylishhh, and fast and e-zayy and basically not being a PC. Thankyou. Anyway, so as i was tossing through things I thought to myself, I haven't really written about my escapade to Over the Seas and far away. So here we go. Enjoy. This may perhaps have been the most traumatic trip ever, but it was also the the best....

So this is Bernard. The pigeon from Nortre Dame. So, I'll set the scene for you, As I was sitting, writing away, as you do, on a bea-utiful Autumn day, the 'Pigeon Lady', who I'm sure you can imagine; a woman, covered, and I mean covered in pigeons. Pigeons that look as old as the science text books up at Howqua... A few pigeons, obviously too blind, or perhaps too sinister to engage in this frivolous pigeon orgy occurring on perhaps one of Paris' dirtiest and strangest woman's face. Bernard, clearly a senior citizen had broken free from the crowd and wandered his way over to me. Now, imagine back to me, writing, basking in the sun, under an architectural marvel... And now imagine death, in the form of a pigeon, crawling and limping its way over to me. I look down in disgust at this pigeon, if you could even call it that, that was mere cm's away from my feet. In fear that if this pigeon was to suddenly regain his sight, and perhaps suffer from a sever violent fit, may indeed attack me, I tried my best to shooo him away. Bernard then proceeded to, somehow, muster up all of his strength and energy that he had saved from perhaps pretending to be dead most of the time, and jumped up onto the bench I was sitting on. Disgust turned into pity. And pity turned quickly into repulse. At a feeble attempt to shoo Bernard away, I waved my book in his general direction, hoping that this would frighten him away, then I remembered that he was death in a pigeon.... there was no way he would be able to see the book being hurtled towards his face. I was about to give up, and simply stand up and find a new bernard-free place to sit like I probably should have done in the 1st place, when I found Bernard's weakness. Distractions. "Hey Bernard what's that over there?!?!" And just like that, he was gone.

If only if onlyy

By the time you check on this the 2nd time round, hopeful I have finished this post off. Im tired and it's late. So, mmhh. The story behind this photo is maybe, sort of, kind of long and rather funny. All I'll say for now is 10 Euros. 1 paddling boat. WITH slide. WITH sun deck AND able to seat 4 people. W.O.W. I know right?

A bit of stubble..

Stumbled across this drawing, and thought to myself, hmmm this seems oddly familiar. Then I realised. I took a photo much like it a while back. It's like we're beard sisters or something.

I'll try not to

cut to the ocean for a run too low

An edited version of the o-ridge-in-al uno.

Two is better than one

Beacause two is always better than one, espically when those two things have the same head...

Georgia Kay, I'm pretty sure You're alergic to hay...

And you change your mind again

I'm Meltinggggg

How much longer can this go on for? I take a gulp of re-fridgerated air when the weather man on chanel 9 (you know that one with the brown hair, sort of pudgy, jolly looking?) tells me that for the rest of the week it's going to be hot, hot, hot. And raining at the same time. Sorry, what? 38 and raining at the same time? I cannot think of anything worse. So not only am I going to be sweating, but it'll be raining while I'm doing so. Im praying that that gulp of air cond air will last me the week. So look out for me, I'll be the one walking begrudgingly down the street with a bag full to the brim, with a HUGE, stooooopid, ugly laptop as a cherry on top, a red face, fluffy, untameable hair, holding my last cool breath. I'm literally melting. Dam you D108. Dam you.

If only...

So. Dreaming big. Work experience is nagging at the back of all year 10's across the continent, and refusing to leave them alone until we secure ourselves a position. I should have organized myself, however they gave me a little, no, thats an understatement, a very large pack of information filled with super duper handy tips and opening lines and rules and dates and anything else you can possibly think of that has anything to do with anything. Phew.. As I said, I'm dreaming big. When I'm older, hopefully slightly taller and most defiantly wiser, I aspire to work in the design industry. There is no doubt about it. I've know since I was at the age where instead of simply pinning back annoying strands of hair behind your ear, the only obvious solution seems to cut it all off... Yes, I've know for an awfully long time. The Madonna of Architecture in Australia, Sean Godsell. What more do I have to say? Sean was going to design a house for our farm, which at the time i imagined it to turn out something like this...
How stupid. My poor, developing mushy brain didn't understand that the man who had helped me rescue a stooopid litle rainbow trout from a water tank, the one who lost his compass at our farm, (which my mumma found- nice one mum), was the world renouded, Sean Godsell. Winner of countless prestigious awards for practically every single dam house he has designed. In 2006 he received the Victorian Premier’s Design Award and the RAIA, The Robin Boyd Award and in 2007 he received the Capochin residential architecture award in Italy and a Chicago Athenaeum award in the USA, In July 2002 the English design magazine wallpaper listed him as one of ten people destined to ‘change the way we live’. He was the only Australian and the only Architect in the group. Little did I realised that we could of had something like this...

and this....

There are simply too many houses and tooo many photos to put up, as my poor computer cannot handle it, nor can my patience. Once again, Dreaming BIG, Im praying to the most heavenly of gods, that I can do work experience there. If not, I may possibly die. Sarah you can have my leaf. Sophie you can have...ummm the other leaf. Rachel you can have my dog, because i know how much you want one... Vixsen, you can have my little sister, George, you can have some of my hair if you want, not all of it, just a little top up you know (give you some volume...), sacha you can have all my clothes, and my crazy 12 year old scrunchie.... Fingers crossedd

Just some Lint that was caught in the belly button of my computer..