Refuge, a personal escape is an exhibition by 13 South Australian emerging artists. / Wheatsheaf Hotel / 39 George Street, Thebarton, Adela…
Refuge, a personal escape is an exhibition by 13 South Australian emerging artists. / Wheatsheaf Hotel / 39 George Street, Thebarton, Adelaide 5031, (08) 8443 4546. Mon-Fri 11am-12am, Sat 12pm-12am, Sun 12pm-9pm. Opening night, 7pm Thursday June 7th. To Monday July 2nd 2007. This is one of my pieces in the show: / link
Being a student who explores the many number of possibilities of a future, you start to wonder is it all worth it? I have injected so muc…
Being a student who explores the many number of possibilities of a future, you start to wonder is it all worth it? I have injected so much effort into my education due to the emotion i feel when i see the A’s on that paper. That very paper, one sheet, that could change your mood and future. One letter can change you’re mood and future. My main aim on life is to change other people’s lives. I dont care how, i just want, i crave to make a person stand and smile, allow them to be consumed into a moment of clarity and belonging that i just gave to them. When you are a poet and a photographer, you start to look at the world through different perspectives which to you may allow you to explore the many possiblities and pathways that humanity offers. But for me, every new avenue opened by my own observations submerges me deeper into the confusion and anguish of who i really want to be, what i call my abyss. Im touched by everything, not sexually, because of the original ways i look at things. The work of a comedian makes me laugh which makes me feel happy and intern makes me want to be a comedian, so i can make people laugh. This applys various careers: acting, photographing, singing, drawing, painting, music producing, presenting, writing, designing, filming and film production, climatologist the list could go on. I feel such a warmth from any aspect of entertainment that the very thought of making someones day a little more worth it makes me contemplate whether the path i was pressured to choose was wrong. Thats why i hate education and the pressure loaded onto students at the end or start of a new junction in their life. You have to sign up to this quick or you will miss your chance, you must have a career in mind for you to really perservere… the pressure is devestating to normal people like me who just want to explore and enjoy life. I suppose this journal entry exists to say that the science path im regretfully going down is the wrong path but is it too late? I want to be creative, be a poet and an artist, showcase my work and make people feel and embrace the beauty of the world through the very language we use everyday. I dont wanna be stuck in a flower shop regretting because regret is the worsteststststst feeling you could ever feel. I think it all really depends on me personally because not everyone feels the way i do about my future. I am such an unpredictable and individual person which is beautiful sometimes because you can exist in a world where you are yourself. But, it’s not as simple as that especially when you have such low confidence. I want to be different and individual, i am, but it’s hard to be the one people dont think twice about. The weird one who wheres strange clothes, the one who can’t fit nicely into a sterotype so is kicked off the scene completely. It’s exactly that reason i try so hard to be different that i end up being the same as everyone else: a person who is just as individual as the the group of individuals other there. When you have such a shattered confidence, trying to exist as a person of difference is hard. Thats why i try so desperatley to be someone else and by doing so i’ve lost who i am really am. But trying to fit in, i’ve fell out of reality and lost touch with the personality traits i used to have. The only thing true to myself, that has had no influence from other people and their opinions is my poetry. My dear sweet sweet refuge of the english language. Writing all this out has made it clear to me that my individuality is just everyone else merged into one. I’m a fraud and a liar who needs a personality of their own. I can only allow you to imagine how it feels to exist as everybody else whilst watching your old soul burn deep into the flames that destroy reality. Thankyou. just for letting me write this.
BALI ADOPTION REHABILITATION CENTRE (B.A.R.C) / Please check out this website: www.freewebs.com/balidogs It is a shelter in Ubud, Ba…
BALI ADOPTION REHABILITATION CENTRE (B.A.R.C) / Please check out this website: www.freewebs.com/balidogs It is a shelter in Ubud, Bali, dedicated to saving street dogs in Bali. They rely on donations to rescue, rehabilitate and re-home these poor animals. With my girlfriend, we are travelling to Bali in a few weeks and are going to help in any way we can. Including taking towels/blankets etc in our luggage. Check out the website, and if you can help in anyway, please do so. Also, if you can donate anything which we can take over, please let me know. Next time you’re on a surfing trip/holiday in Bali, please think about these poor animals and take something over for them. Cheers, / Simon and Sarah
Made a quick road trip down the coast this week stopping to shoot pix at Stuarts House of Refuge, Hobe Sound, Blowing rocks, Jupitar inle…
Made a quick road trip down the coast this week stopping to shoot pix at Stuarts House of Refuge, Hobe Sound, Blowing rocks, Jupitar inlet, and Ft Pierce harbor area. Will be posting photos soon.
Cynicism, pessimism and all those other “downisms” are convenient shields against what seems to be a pretty fucked up world. The media a…
Cynicism, pessimism and all those other “downisms” are convenient shields against what seems to be a pretty fucked up world. The media are big fans of downism. Downism rewards by feigning intelligence (things can fuck-up, its the way of things, the Downist gets rewarded time and time again by calling the fuck-up) it also feigns “worldliness” (as long as you consider being worldly always looking for fuck-ups – it’s not my idea of worldly). All those illusionary rewards seem to drive the media to be card-carrying Downists. I make a point of scanning through online media each morning. The Age (I reckon they need to pump anti-depressants through the air-conditioning at The Age – those people are in real trouble I think), the BBC (addicted, like a lot of media to hyperbole, but nowhere near as Downist as The Age) and Wired. Ah, Wired. (Link here) The mass media refuge against the depressing infection of Downism. Time and time again the people at Wired (ostensibly “just” a new tech magazine) see the wonderful things happening out there in the world. And what impresses me is they dig deep and find the unusual wonderful things. Case in point is a photo essay in the current online Wired on the salvaging of the Airbus that did some boating on the Hudson River back in January. The Downist media wouldn’t give a rat’s about the fascinating business of getting a huge plane off the bottom of the river. Wired was. And they found a photographer who was just as fascinated and did a photo series on the process….I loved it. Stephen Mallon recorded the salvage operation. Weird and sexy shots he did. Love this steampunk look. The punchline? Go and take refuge at Wired, a genuinely worldly media source.
My driver had advised I not tell anyone I was American. The U.S. was about to begin bombing Afghanistan, and the Rajasthani city was only…
My driver had advised I not tell anyone I was American. The U.S. was about to begin bombing Afghanistan, and the Rajasthani city was only 50 clicks from the Pakastani border and had a large Muslim community. Mr. Balbir, pleaded with me…”The Ambassador Taxi isn’t mine… It belongs to my uncle and we can’t have any trouble Mr. Skip… Please! Just tell them you’re Canadian… they won’t know the difference. I can’t have anything happen to the car…” I promised Mr. Balbir I would comply and assured him I wasn’t a big fan of “trouble” either. Still… it was so hot and one of the bigger hotels with a pool would let you swim all afternoon for just 50 rupees. And, since it was only around 3 weeks since the September 11th attacks, I would have the entire pool to myself. I made my way from my boiling dusty guesthouse toward the hotel… just for a couple hours relief from the intense heat. As I passed through one of the Muslim neighborhoods along the way… the rusty loudspeakers fired up with very intense Arabic announcements. To a non-native speaker, Arabic can sound fairly agressive even if it’s a benign weather report, or a routine call to prayer. This time there was no guessing. It had started and the American bombs were beginning to fall. It was pure rage rattling from the little neighborhood loudspeakers and the locals were starting to glare at my obvious “American” stature with distain… all I could do was try not to make eye contact and keep moving. I still had a good 30 minutes left to walk, but I just kept walking. That is, until a small group of Muslim boys surrounded me and started shouting in Arabic. I tried to just push past them, but they began hitting me with their little fists and kicking at my legs. I just took it for the first few blows, but decided I’d try and scare the little buggers off. I looked around for a good sized stone and lifted it. The boys dared me to throw it at them, and then I noticed the Muslim men who were previously smirking with approval at the attack, were now “daring” me to give them any excuse… I tossed the stone aside, took a few more blows, and just kept walking. As soon as I was out of sight, I noticed one of the old stone-carved houses was open, so I ducked in for a little refuge until the mayhem subsided. I took this photo in the stone home, but all I can remember was being terrified that World War III had just started, and all I could think about was getting to that pool for a cooling dip. Photo for this entry HERE “Jaisalmer Refuge” ~ Jaisalmer, India © Skip Hunt
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