tarantulatrash

Steam.

Posted in art, craft, culture, life, literature, lomo, lomography, love, photography, Uncategorized, writing by tarantulatrash on April 6, 2010

[please note, this was written a long time ago. jamie and i are as sickly happy as ever. in other news I GOT A TYPEWRITER!!!]

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an antisocial commentary.

Posted in art, culture, indie, life, literature, philosophy, Uncategorized, writing by tarantulatrash on April 1, 2010

[THE FOLLOWING IS A SMALL EXCERPT OF A LONGER PIECE I AM WORKING ON]

He opened the black moleskine and printed the words in lower-case.

“antisocial commentary.

she has the lyrics of “meat is murder” meticulously and illegibly scrawled onto her forearm with a sharpie. she smokes pink elephants halfway down and stifles her gagging with san pellegrino. she hopes to find someone here she can be dependent upon but they must have wealth and taste and culture and street cred and tattoos of obscure concepts in obvious places. in her mind he sees her across the room, she glances and does a walt-disney-esque bat of the eyelids and he is instantly hers. he takes her to his sharehouse in the inner northern suburbs and puts a hat on the doorknob to prevent the seven housemates wandering in while he has her bent over a cardboard cutout of the great robert zimmerman and watches himself in the mirror. they smoke a joint afterwards and ash into a plastic water bottle. he offers her some food knowing that there is none, and knowing she will decline because she looks like she has never eaten. he is bored and wants her to leave immediately. she is complete and has her life with him planned out. he’s gotten his load off and so has the guy in the bedroom next door. “

why tarantulatrash?

Posted in art, culture, literature, music, philosophy, rock, Uncategorized, writing by tarantulatrash on March 29, 2010

I get asked a lot why my blog is called “tarantulatrash”-

The original idea came from one of my favourite pieces of writing, “Tarantula” by Bob Dylan.
Tarantula is a book of complete nonsense. Dylan used stream-of-thought writing and created a whimsical, confusing and melodic series of ideas/situations/mind-exploding nonsensical bullshit.

I see Dylan’s tarantula as  “fuck you” to society- he knew it was nonsense. He knew no-one would understand it, at all. He wanted to see people “create” meaning from within the nonsense. And indeed, they have. It highlights how crucial interpretation is in the value of art. To be honest, if anyone else had written this piece it would likely have never have reached publication. Instead, it has a cult following. I love it.

“…. You must have something to do in your real life – I understand that you praised the piece you saw yesterday entitled “The Monkey Taster” about which you said meant “a nice work of butter carved into the shape of a young man who likes only African women” you are an idiot – it doesn’t mean that at all…I hereby want nothing to do with your hang-ups-I really don’t care what you think of my work as I now know you don’t understand it anyway…I must go now-I have this new hunk of margarine waiting in the bathtub – yes I said MARGARINE & next week I just might decide to use cream cheese – & I really don’t care what you think of my experimenting – you take yourself too seriously – you’re going to get an ulcer and go to the hospital-they’ll put you in a ward where you can’t have any visitors-you’ll go right off your nut-I really don’t care anymore-I am so bored with your rules and regulations that I might not even talk to you again-just remember tho, when you evaluate a piece of butter, you are talking about yourself, so you’d better sign your name…see you if you’re lucky at Mrs. Keelers cake festival.

Yours,
Snowplow Floater

p.s – you’re my friend & I’m trying to help you”

There are no longer dancers.

Posted in art, culture, fashion, indie, music, photography, street fashion, tattoos, writing by tarantulatrash on March 18, 2010

“ There are no longer ‘dancers.’ the possessed.
The cleavage of men into actor and spectators
is the central fact of our time.
We are obsessed with heroes who live for us
and whom we punish…
We are content in the ‘given’ in sensation’s quest.
We have been metamorphosised from a
mad body dancing on hillsides to
a pair of eyes staring in the dark. ”

Jim Morrison, The Lords and the New Creatures.

R.I.P Jim.

Tattoo by Adam at King of Rings, Bendigo.