May 24, 2012

The maestro says its Mozart but it sounds like bubblegum.

May 21, 2012
Peel out. I just love it when guys peel out.

Peel out. I just love it when guys peel out.

May 21, 2012
May 19, 2012
mary: i hate the way you talk about dying. colin: Everyone thinks i’ll die. mary: if everyone thought that about me, i wouldn’t do it.

mary: i hate the way you talk about dying.

colin: Everyone thinks i’ll die.

mary: if everyone thought that about me, i wouldn’t do it.

May 17, 2012

And she said, “Hunni you’ve got the class, but babe the world gave me the ticket..”

May 14, 2012
May 14, 2012
I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story.  From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked.  One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn’t quite make out.  I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn’t make up my mind which of the figs I would choose.  I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet. —SP

I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story.  From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked.  One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn’t quite make out.  I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn’t make up my mind which of the figs I would choose.  I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet. —SP

May 9, 2012

Coin Laundry Ennui. Teenage Hercules + Self Portrait.

May 6, 2012 • 25 notes • caseyweldon
May 5, 2012

Video editing practice. I must have heard this song every second weekend from 1991 through to 1999 during the car trips from the Gold Coast to Brisbane. Tis full of symbolism, easy to figure out if you listen to the words (if you watch it and then assume i’m a nazi, you’re an idiot). Some of the images are semi-autobiographical. Fun to make. :) The one i posted before is a little more ambiguous but essentially outlines my thoughts on the dark side of fame. Again just practicing my editing skills, i enjoy making little movies. Winky face.

Ed Note: Apparently Supertramp has something against uploading videos featuring their songs EVEN though youtube automatically recognises their music and any views on my videos will generate them income…:-S will re-upload when i figure out how