While Klaus and I searched for our castle on the northern beaches of Sydney, we knew that there was one piece of furniture that was required above all else … A surfboard rack. (as we were being given a spectacular array of hand-me-downs of pretty much every other thing you need in a house – thanks fam)
So when we finally did lock down our bitchin’ beachside haven, our first stop was the hardware store, then straight back to my mum’s place to rip the bandsaw, drill press and various other power tools.
What a waste of a gloriously big and flat timber surface, I thought. So I chucked a painting on it, inspired by Klaus’ favourite mural in San Francisco which I reckon speaks the language of the ocean. Great to have a bit o’ Bay Area memorabilia supporting the shred sticks.
I used acrylic paints for the colour, then chucked a gloss over it, then drew the outlines with a dark brown acrylic paint pen (that Kramer gave me for my birthday – thanks pal) and left it matte for a bit of texture. Froth city.
So it’s been a while. Internet – I apologise. My film’s in post-production which has stirred up a whole lot of work. Work which I deemed necessary to practice severe levels of procrastination to avoid. I achieved this (with honours) by completely re-arranging my house. In doing so, and moving a very large wooden cabinet from the kitchen into my bedroom, I discovered the reason why it may have been put there in the first place. A gaping big hole of peeled paint.
Never one to resist a challenge, nor an opportunity to create a collage – particularly when that collage is of the great Barry Humphries (AKA Dame Edna Everage – Australian comedy royalty) – I rose to the occasion using a great shot I found in a 1970’s edition of Interview Magazine. As his new position was to be over our chopping block, I captioned it accordingly. How ‘come hither’!
In my life, I have managed to surround myself with a group of exceptionally great-looking people. How they all ended up so impressively disfigured when I attempted to recreate them as puppets is beyond me and honestly an art in itself.
The intriguing part is that Katie, my pal with whom I crafted these magnificently ugly creations, is a skilled beautician and makeup artist and does in fact professionally make people look better than they usually would. Turns out felting and feather-work is a whole other can of worms.
Yep. We made finger puppets for our pals this Chrissy and good heavens they were a hit. Complete with a little bell on each one to keep things sounding festive when they were inevitably jiggled about.
(It should be noted that I had written several ‘finger’ gags in this post that I have tastefully edited out for the benefit of my family. I am partially saddened by this but proud to be displaying such self-restraint.)
While joining in my quest to complete the Foxen mural, the effervescent, deeply creatively inclined puppet enthusiast, makeup artist and hair stylist Katie Nash (some might assume she is the grandchild of Madonna, Leonardo Da Vinci, Jim Henson and Elizabeth Arden) took pity upon me; I am, after all, missing out on Halloween in San Francisco which, I gather, is an absolute hoot.
Not one to let timing get in the way, Katie decided to celebrate with me in advance over chicken tacos, some killer makeup and on-point Vogue circa 1985 (a great year) styling:
Please be sympathetic to my post-day-in-the-office, pre-looking-like-an-actual-fox dreariness. The dramatic nature of this transformation has raised concerns that Katie may actually be practicing some kind of voodoo or witchcraft. Highly appropriate for the season.