fast food – latkes
He’s using the grill of a Chrysler 300/300c as a grill top, which makes sense, and for his pans he’s got a couple of full moon hubcaps, nicely chromed.
Posts from the ‘Works’ Category
Dec 6
1 Comment
mona vale surfclub, and eric the caretaker
‘ Have a f.cken look at this will yez! Those f.cken c.nts must live up to their ears in shit to be able to make a f.cken mess like this. F.cken dunno why the f.cken committee keeps f.cken doin’ this, all they f.cken do is f.cken break every f.cken thing every f.cken time. C.nts! '
shaper builder
Ray had no schedules; he would to wander in and out of building commitments as often as the weather changed and he was fearsomely unapologetic for missed appointments and delivery times
rip and tear
Down it went, and up he stood trying to negate the damage - It crackled he said, and I could hear the flesh tearing. Good old dave, always one for histrionics when faced with an immediate dismemberment.
victor borge does phonetics, and had a rose named after him
victor borge - 'occasionally, a finger comes up to wipe a tear [of laughter] from the eye... and that's my reward' - this does it every time.
the surfers reunion
How his bed smells in the mornings, and his clothes are always stained. His mind is loosening so quickly now and his conversation rambles here and there, flicking between fiction and reality, and he drinks far too much, every day.
the neighbour’s boy
And after they have gone Max’s father patrols the dark streets and collects his own collateral, dumped surfboards. He usually collects a couple each year, and after three years of hard looking he found what looked like an old MP Fangtail, ridden to the death, but still in one yellowed and bruised piece.
einstein on the beach
some music in almost un-listenable, excruciating, tuneless, repetitive, unimaginative, insulting, juvenile, over the top, experimental, punishing, metronomic, pulselike, pianos being played like guitars, unbearable, rubbish, altogether MINIMALIST.
enjoy ...
dinner on the manning: whiting with honey and chili dust
Frank introduced us to the River the day after we took him home from the Harrington pub, the day he had been beaten insensible by the three dark men who had travelled up from Sydney looking for the local plantation. Three bikers.
the truant
How they roamed up to him did these fellows when their unpredicted veer bisected the boy’s solitary path and they, wordless and all but stinking with rejection and loss, looked at him hot, and wordless, like a lover.
euclid, toilet tiles and one percenters
They all watched me as I left the building, dozens of them standing around their bikes with their women, but I sensed a respect as we drove away, for the violent have always deferred to the daft.
the holiday van, tabourie: fresh bream with basil leaves
They had been drinking all day that day and he had sent her over to the bottle shop for a few bottles to take home, and the long bump under the back wheel outside the drive-in bottle shop as he backed in was too soft to be a ramp
the diplomat’s boy, an encounter
The boy would lay naked on his bed reading of the woman’s life of appeasement and subjugation. He had a jar of Vaseline by the bedside that he used to facilitate his daylong masturbation sessions.
market day
Her once clear eyes long blinded by cataracts, her memory ruthlessly scoured by Alzheimers, her legs sodden with a gangrenous discharge that had confounded him for weeks - she would clasp his warm hand with her own cold and taloned claw the instant he laid it down softly by her side.
the end of lancaster road
Sometimes we followed him a little way along to the first ledge before losing our enthusiasm. Lester though would amble along the airy ledge and swing down on one of the steel bars that led to another lower level
dark beach
Mick Wright ran a caryard in Sydenham, twenty sale units in the lot, all repossessed, and he remembered the silent beard with an army kitbag who paid cash for the ’65 Bedford in 1974.
arvo part ~ cantus in memory of benjamin britten
arvo part was born in estonia in 1935 and is one of the most prominent living composers of 'sacred' music.
His music fulfills a deep human need that has nothing to do with fashion (steve reich)
surfoplanes ~ their place in the scheme of things
Not enough has been written about the Surfoplane, particularly in regard to its legitimate role as a precursor to the hard-edged BellyBoard, and the modern day Boogie Board, and nothing at all has been written about the techniques and skills necessary to have had a successful session.
