I’ve just been fluffing about in the studio a bit over the last few months. Here’s the latest experiments in house paint and aerosol:
In latest news, I’ve attempted my biggest piece yet. It’s not finished yet, but here are some progress shots:
Now that I’m using instagram (@preciouslittleremains), I’m finding myself even lazier about updating this blog dealie, so there’s no real theme or glue holding this post together in a cohesive way, other than here’s a bunch of images of all the stuff I’ve been getting up to over the past many months than I haven’t posted about.
Very aware I’ve been Missing In Action in a public art kinda way, but I haven’t been idle. Still very much trying to wrap my head around this aerosol thing, building skills and getting faster before I attempt any public walls. So very studio based goings on as of late, but you haven’t seen the last of me.
When I started doing this street art thing, I was inspired by the work of the Melbourne and international heavyweights I saw in books like Uncommissioned Art and Street Art Uncut. There’s something enormously satisfying about seeing my own stuff make an appearance in the newest comprehensive street art monograph, Land of Sunshine, compiled by the one and only Dean Sunshine.
You can pick up this excellent collection from the National Gallery of Victoria. Check it out:
In other publishing news, my work has also appeared in San Fransisco based rag, Das Einhorn Magazine:
It’s been a busy few months for new work at my home. I’m pretty sure I’m stupidly lucky to wake up in my personal street art gallery of a morning. The Last Resort can now boast:
Work by the incredible Taylor White:
New work by my aerosoulmate, Kaff-eine:
A new fancy by your Precious:
This little number by Ears:
And incredibly attractive housemates who throw great parties:
[photo by Pippa Dodds]
So my handsome aerosolmate, Kaff-eine and I have once again joined forces to bring some painting/poem mash-ups to Brunswick and (eventually) surrounding areas. Throughout the course of our Midsumma show, Urban Scrawl, we discovered that my words and Kaff’s images had a particularly provocative alchemy that we were hoping to take out of Swan Songs zine and bring to the streets. Here’s what happened:
“I stopped wearing a watch after the funeral – from that day on, I knew the time would always be Too Late.” [Small Block cafe, Brunswick.]
“at a funeral in december, the casket is closed. Apparently all the kings horses and all the kings men couldn’t put luke back together again. After all, seventeen floors is a long, long way to fall. The funeral of luke the brickie drew every tradesman within cooee. Slack-tied and sweltering in their sunday best, they sit silenced by the conflict between tears and testosterone. Even the lillies are regretful in the heat and bend as if confessing.” [Brunswick shop front, opposite Small Block.]
This larger installation piece also features some 3d stuff, which is a departure for me:
Customised cans [Brunswick]
“There was a crashing convergence, a screeching collision of a kiss. Even in the half-light, her eyes glittered like the chemical reaction between blood and luminol: electric, ominous and impossibly blue.” [burnt Brunswick wall]
“Her window overlooked that curious ritual of binary oppositions, where old becomes new; disposal and acquisition intersect; death is reborn. We observed as if from an opera box that festival of debris and duality where refuse swelled under the dignified pastels of Shaw Street’s magnolias and where–like the two figures tangled on a third storey balcony–so much beauty kept company with so much trash” [Precious’ ode to hard rubbish, Northcote]
I’d like to give a big shout out to one of our favourite street art snappers, Rowena Naylor for the incredible shots. Thanks doll!
Here’s the rest of em:
So the gorgeous Kaff-eine took me on a swell country graff odyssey for my birthday. I am completely in love with the idea of taking urban art into a rural environment, and the abundance of dilapidated mudbrick barns, rusted train carriages and abandoned country properties provided some amazing locations for a cheeky paint. And a cheeky dance to cheesy power ballads blaring from the car stereo in the path of an approaching country storm:
It turns out there are just as many lush, forgotten sites of decay in the country as there are in the city. Including one completely magical discovery: a pre-Victorian steam train carriage abandoned in a field. Holy shit. This thing was just beautiful. Original brass light fittings, original shell pink paint job. We couldn’t help ourselves:
[“that January shrank to days of chemistry-set colours, bookended by white hot nights. Sweat-varnished, we languished through a summer so hot it stopped trains on their tracks, when your goodbye kiss at the station made my blood quicken in a climate of constant delays.”]
My aerosol work is also improving:
What a dope way to spend a day. Looking forward to more country play. In the meantime, here’s the photo diary.