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| A LONG TIME AGO , IN A SUBURB..... FAR,.. FAR AWAY |
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well orrighty , not so far away......around an hours hooning down the freeway, past where the cows used to live, untill you get to where the dairy used to be. I was the second result of the 4 results my folks had. They are called Ray & Fay. they rhyme . its nice . Anyway I have a result of my own...we call her Bree.
My folks taught me about fishing and shopping , and the wisdom to know the difference. Bree knows little about fishing , or farting etiquette , and what she knows about shopping , she has figured out for herself. We live near a dog called Bob. He has zero nuts. I cant apologise enough about that. Perhaps in the next life he will return the gesture. I pat him alot.
Please call me Mabel if it will help you to relax.
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I cook , I shop , I walk the Bob,... sometimes I paint like my hands on fire and Im trying to put it out , by waving it about. Sometimes I stare at the wall and imagine Im Queen Victorias champion doylie maker.....I like to make stereos. I make them out of other stereos, and some wood. ..I call them Dux Vox , because I want to call them Dux Vox.
I wish Tanja was here. My second favourite thing to do is make recordings. Like I'll get a video , and some taped bits of sound , and music and snips from cartoons or docko's and splice them together into these soundscapes. Have you ever heard Hi-Fi in Delerium by Andre Pop and his orchestra?.. ok so I can hear you saying probably not anyway it was the wierdest thing ever when we were kids and I loved it to bits. Funny how life in the suburbs can make an old secondhand record the most fascinating thing in your life. You may be thinking to yourself , why am I sitting here reading this unmittigated dribble when I could be having wild sex on the beach or sorting out your filing cabinet , or covering your filing cabinet with leopard skin and calling it Neville. |
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well writing about being an artist is dull. you may expect some story about , like I was 9 yrs old and saw some guy painting pictures in a mall at a million miles an hour,.. and making a gazzillion bucks out of some cheap and accessible crap....or perhaps I awoke... in the springtime of my youth , one bright and sunny morning and just came over all artsey. Making money out of painting can be as difficult and frustrating , as trying to compose a letter... on the side of a burning cat..using your arse dipped in lard , as a pencil. But after many vegemite sandwiches and not too much skiing in Austria with my imaginary tour guide who I like to call Yurl Urlmut, its beginning to pay. These pics loaded here take about a year per 3 rows or so, .. give or take a year for working as a dogman at a sawmill, or a general idiot at a zoo. SO where will it take me from here?...I dont exactly know , but hopefully there will be large drinks with umbrellas in them and a spanish combo who likes playing Rhumbas on theyre cheap borrowed accordions.And a waitress with big tits called Sally... who's also a massuesse. |
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Most likely I'll end up living between Switzerland and Japan, taking the bob-sled to the shops , to buy sashimi for the kids who we will start calling Franz & Yoko & Gudenka & Toyota.
I was gunna do some impressions for you here , but Id feel stupid , and you'd never guess who it was sposed to be anyway.
well... its been a blast, thanks for coming...dont forget to check my pages for new work or LUPO will come . goodnight. |
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Gregory Johnathan Dwyer.......1999 |
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GET OUTTA MY SITE |
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