Thursday, May 01, 2014

That's the way the ANZAC cookie crumbles

At ease soldier, how's it going? Did you have a happy ANZAC Day? Is that a thing people say? Happy ANZAC Day? Probably not I guess, seems a bit inappropriate now I think about what the day actually means, but even still, I hope your ANZAC Day was happy.

Here's a drawing I did of the ANZAC Day march as it marched its way by my studio window.
The bagpipers played Waltzing Matilda a bunch of times, I kept hoping they'd play a little AC-DC.
In particular I really liked those people with the big drums on their stomachs, who in-between playing the drums did all this really elaborate synchronised drumstick spinning. It was kind of like watching a hundred marching bartenders spinning bottles. 
Here's a little video of it just so you get an idea of how loud the whole thing was from in my studio.
ANZAC Day made me think about a show I saw in the comedy festival a few weeks ago by Adelaide born comedian Justin Hamilton, where he talked about how last year he went to Afghanistan to perform standup comedy for the Australian troops.

While the show was really funny, it was also a reminder of just how scary it is in a war zone. Hamilton recounted being told that if he was taken hostage by the Taliban it was very important that he "brown up".

'Browning up', as Hamilton had it explained to him, means he should cover his entire body in his own poo so that he isn't raped. Ha, far out, a bit different from the usual war paint you associate soldiers putting on their face, like this guy from the back of the book my Mum's reading.

On a side note about the Justin Hamilton show, here's a lousy photo of a drawing I did in the audience just a few moments before it started.
On another side note about Justin Hamilton's show, it was based around some names he once saw written in wet cement, and so a couple of weeks before the comedy festival started I wrote Hamilton's name in some wet cement I found on the corner of Bourke Street and Russell Place.
I tweeted Justin Hamilton to let him know, and very cool, he now has the picture as his twitter profile background.

While I'm drifting away from the topic of war and onto the equally terrifying subject of profile pictures, here's a drawing I did the other day of my studio pal Alanna. 
And one more quick drawing that I didn't expect to be a profile picture, the other day someone on twitter named McNezzo tweeted me saying she wished I'd draw her on the train, so in reply I drew her profile picture and took this photo.
Ha, anyway though enough about building up a profile, what was I saying, oh right, so although I've never browned up or even worn combat camouflage face paint, because on ANZAC Day our studio had the radio playing the Collingwood Essendon game I painted some little stripes on my face.


And to get even more into the spirit, I also got ANZAC biscuits for the studio.
 As well as the biscuits I also went to Subway for lunch, where I had to wait in line for ages because there were so many ANZAC people there also eating fresh. I didn't take any photos of the ANZAC's, but I did take a photo of this woman. 
I like to imagine that the six inches on the left of her sub is veggie delight, and the six inches on the right is meatball.  

But so yeah, here I am in the studio, sculpting an ANZAC biscuit out of clay while I eat one made of, I don't know, honey and oats and whatever it is ANZAC biscuits are made of.
And finally, irrelevantly, here I am on a tram home eating lasagne.
One last thing to finish this ANZAC Day post off, the other place I went to on ANZAC Day was Officeworks.
While I was there I found that someone had left an old photograph marked 'XMAS 1981' in the photocopier. I made a drawing of the photo and left them there together in the copier. 
Fingers crossed whoever left the photo comes back for it.

And yeah, this has been a particularly rambly blog post so thanks so much for making all the way to the end, and fingers crossed you found some good in it. Although I don't know, blogs, what are they good for? Absolutely muffin. Sing it again.

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