Archiving: Styrofoam art

This blog is now going into archiving. Six months ago I changed the name of the blog to blagsplotforblart and found that this means all my files then go into grey. Decided that was not such a good idea because then my initiallyno blog got taken and my dot com transfered to that. AHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhh.

So here we are blagsplotforblart or initiallynocreations.blogspot.com


There are many ways of interpreting blagsplot, but please don't rob me of my creative works, my blart. They are all original and (C). Just view and enjoy. Artists are trying to survive in this world. If you want them to stick around and do more work, you buy their work. Which is all available at www.redbubble.com/people/initiallyno
Where you can get a variety of T-shirts and different kinds wall art, of mine and other artists





This final picture is made out of packaging material: recycled Styrofoam with a canvas painting in the middle of the foam frame. I've carved and coloured it and it's ended up looking a bit like cork, but is even lighter in weight.

Playing

Mum says she likes this Symbiosis cartoon. Dad did too. Yep. Sometimes parents just want the playful fun things. They had to fight so much in their younger years trying to make change. Work went mysteriously missing, that supported dangers to the environment. Dad was also told to stop teaching the "hothouse effect". Proving existence of things denied can be tiring.

I want a funeral where people sing and dance on my grave. Crying just makes us lose the memories. I prefer it if people laugh, then they're remembering the happy. Although I couldn't do that for Dad, at least we got the only environmentally friendly recycled cardboard coffin from Sydney, that had state approval. Don't think Mum has put him in the compost yet though (although that's what he said we should do with him).

Love, happiness and skies that spoke to me the hour he passed.And by morning the heavens opened up and rained and his garden was wet where it had been dry from the heat of summer sunshine.

Art exhibition opening June 12th 6-8pm

Come and see this years work; look at what is contained by mutual and exclusive arrangements. Think within the vessel. And please, bring your absurd eyes with you.

Four faces of the Ig-lot

There's Igniter, Ignitron, Ignoble and Ignore. (I've chosen not to show the Ig's bottom end it's really just an extension of Ignore.)

Shoreline

Leaks

Listening in, waking up to the waiting. Always asking what’s going on, for there is always more, to underscore what’s understood as known and fact, even if it isn’t that.

Beings: Ladybird party chat

Automatic art? Well, the original sketches are and the words these beings say are; and they were drawn in a sequence of pages in my sketch book with a pen. I feel like a pen is automatic in origin, because I can't erase anything until I put it into digital space. So I'd say this is a digitally edited automatic. I consider it automatic because I have no idea who these characters are, as yet. Never met them, except as "energy" nagging for a space to speak on the page. And I just think, okay, that's great, I don't mind at all, I like sketching EMFs. At least "beings" don't tell me off and make me feel guilty for making art out of them. In fact I feel they want me to draw them and if I don't, they tend to make me feel bad until I get them down there doing stuff I have had no idea about.

So where is the cunning plan? Ah, I can't assume to be privy to that just yet. That would take the excitement of the draw away.

Electric build up and gwtfing

I have reasons to believe that everything you do is more than something else that we’ve gotten into. I have all these things inside of me that raise-up the ride and take themselves on the streams that gaze at meaning where laws wake and begin the dreams you can’t fake. That’s the hope there. I want that. I want this and your reckoning in there, so it can be shown that automatic is a nuance of reasoning. It isn’t just a witch’s seasoning.
With you, there is a flow through. I can see how things are being marked down and made to stretch at a point which someone graved. And you’re aching with needs that don’t warrant a closure for any other reason than that something too strong is going to ruin the ribbon that warms the ways we share.
[That’s an automatic write. It flows in a rhythmic tap of keys without a point of pause between: it’s also what I call gwtfing.]

To create, I am listening to what is going on in the external world, feeling and sensing the differences, similarities and how they all add up. That is where the automatic arrives. And then must be somewhat edited, so it has a place with which to play that has something to anchor it and make it relevant to current understanding.

It is often the affirmation of society that often makes a project worthwhile continuing. However, it can take a while to sort out a way to present it so that it meets the needs in society.

Art inspires and brings out a new ideas in many fields. So it is important to be confronting and seemingly irrelevant at first. Because that’s what it is to be looking at a current which has not yet had its story told and sold. The current never disappears. It’s always there if you want to listen and tap in. And the results of sensing these electro-magnetics, will depend on who you are, where you are, and what is surrounding you.

Part 2: Eye Openers

Eye openers

Cocktail

Art is a great distraction with debatable attraction when perception has symbolic deception and no reception for its bollocks.

Beings

Elucidate

You want to send me on a journey?
I’ve got a few moments
While I eat what you’ve served
To think around the ground of this scented time.
It’s an illusion though, to know
A deceptive light that guides a means of conversion.
Anything forbidden is inferred to be illegible.
Anything intolerant is deduced and slipped on.
Claims of special knowledge decorate
But do not necessarily awake that feeling
Contrary to logic. It is just a state of brightness
Conjured for my happy fool
Hanging from the squib’s extinguishing tool.
Do you want me to clarify this?
Painting to lean your back against.
Underside of the chair, it won’t get much of an audience, except for those who like to crawl under chairs. I remember sitting under chairs. I’d put them in a line like they were a train then push the treadle on Nana’s old foot energy sewing machine. I wonder if people might start going back to making these. Might do wonders for the ankles. Work out while you sew things up!

Back to the blackboard

When the non-dominate dominates

Trawl

I have a no paint water down the drain policy and a no pharmaceutical medicine in my piss policy, for quite a few selfish reasons… but mostly because I like to eat fish. I don’t eat them very often, maybe once or twice a month, maybe less. When I start to feel really, really sad I know I have to go out and gobble a fish’s soul. And if it wasn’t for the fish I’ve consumed in my lifetime, I’d probably be totally soulless. The fish flesh tells me tales. It becomes part of who I am. I end up creating visuals that scuba divers recognise, but I’ve never seen. (Sea tubas apparently) The fish I gobbled recently was that big-eyed beauty also called blue-eye or blue-nose. I think it is the most gorgeous fish imaginable. And there it was in the shop, a precious rare catch. The shop attendant held it gently in his hands, remembering what the creature looked like before it was a slice of translucent almost ready to devour. It is so hard to know which fish when so much is wasted in by-catch. No one would waste blue-eye though, unless they had no taste or eyes, but in netting a prize fish other creatures get caught as well, some of which are protected species that people are legally not allowed to catch and eat.

But yes, I’m an absorber of creatures that live in my time-zone, but breathe a different state. They sustain me: barramundi, blue-eye cod, hoki, bream, mullet or snapper. No flake, the time of taking a bite out of the man-eater is gone. Shark gobble no more. It won’t make me feel better. http://overfishing.org/pages/guide_to_good_fish.php

Tinsycat meets Goldi

Sometimes little kittens find themselves in strange places.

Dragons well now, that’s a whole drifting story. They’re many and I think they vary more than kittens. And some are like kittens. For there are tinsy dragons too. But this one’s big Goldi. The creature is mostly into eating fruitcake and manicuring nails.

Tinsycat hadn’t even opened her eyes when she first made friends with this wingless dragon named Goldi.

But since that first meeting Tinsycat has decided she would one day like to be a big dragon too.

Goldi doesn’t know how to explain to Tinsy that kittens never grow up to be dragons.

Thought bubblings

Been working on connecting visual components with English. To me they’ve always been separate things. And no question, the visual comes first; I could always draw, just as I knew sound-sense. But English I had to learn. It’s an imposed communication skill. So, I’ve been thinking about what senses drive the words and how the thoughts are being triggered… Or if the external factors are actually more important than the body’s sensory equipment.
Then, questioning the reality of a situation when reality is a spit pocus.

And given that not every one hears voices, that is words inside or outside their head. Some might instead think in symbols.

And then some things, I don’t think really need words.

And yes, I really should try and save on paper more, but I really do love having a sketch book I can use anytime anywhere. It doesn’t bite into my eyes like the computer scream. And, I haven’t yet adjusted to the tablet… that and it being called a tablet.

Another kind of wheel