The crepe myrtles are out, the days are still long, and the year presses onwards. Here are a few things coming up in March that I’m involved with or recommend.
Firstly I’m taking a tour of Surry Hills for Art Month on March 14th. It’s sold out but you can download the map that the tour is based on at the Art Month website.
For those in Canberra for the You Are Here Festival, I have an artwork in the East Row Museum, which opens on March 18th and runs throughout the festival, until the 22nd.
I’ve written a text for the Emily Hunt exhibition Doctrine of Eternal Recurrence, which is showing at The Commercial gallery in Redfern from 20th March to 4th April. It features a weird ceramic wonderland traversed by a model train.
In zine news, the Other Worlds zine fair is on again this year in May, with an expanded program of talks and workshops as well as the zine fair. Apply for a stall by March 22nd.
Peeking over into April, I have an artwork in Second Circulation at Verge Gallery, a show curated by mysterious art gang Dexter Fletcher. It opens on April 2nd and has a program of events to go with it, including a DISCOnfernce, a YOU zine making marathon and the Dexter Fletchers doing a talk on the social history of Blu-Tack.
And finally, for those who have asked about Lost Sydney patches, there are still some available at The Felt Underground.
I’ll be leading an artist tour for this year’s Art Month, on March 14th, around Surry Hills. Tickets are free but limited, available on the Art Month website. Come and explore its mysteries, such as Sydney’s only Brutalist Gothic building, as shown above. There are other great tours in March too, Noel McKenna is also leading one and there are cycling tours and bus tours of the galleries involved in Art Month.
For those in Sydney, I’ll be giving a talk about some of the places around town that have inspired my work, both in my memoir writing and in my city/psychogeography writing on Mirror Sydney. It’s the first in a series of talks about writers who have been influenced in some way by the city, hosted by Walter Mason.
It’s on February 11th, 12:30 – 1:30pm at the Sydney Mechanics’ School of Arts, an interesting place in itself – it’s Sydney’s oldest operating library. The event page is here with RSVP details – it’s free so do come along if you fancy some lunchtime amusement mid-week.
I’ve been working with the excellent Katy B Plummer of the Felt Underground to make these Lost Sydney souvenir patches. They’re inspired by my work at my Sydney blog Mirror Sydney, and feature four of Sydney best past attractions: the Marie Louise Salon on Enmore Road, the Kings Cross Waxworks, the Magic Kingdom Amusement Park and the Sydney Monorail.
I’m one of the 639 other authors of Women in Clothes, and this means a few slivers of my opinion on this complicated topic can be found inside this lovely book. It’s based on a survey that was open to anyone to fill in, with questions like “Do you remember a time in your life when you dressed quite differently from how you do now?” and “What is the most transformative conversation you have ever had with someone on the subject of fashion or style?” The survey is, indeed, still open if you’re the kind of person who, like me, enjoys a good questionnaire.
One of the things I do with my time is teach writing, and one of the things I often say to my students, when they can’t think of what to write, is: think of a time when you really wanted to read something about a particular topic, and you couldn’t find anything. Then write that story. Good stories, I continue, often start their lives as a question. In the introduction to Women in Clothes Sheila Heti writes of the moment when she came up with the idea for Women in Clothes, and it was through a similar desire. She’d decided, after a lifetime of not thinking very much about clothes, to figure out how to dress. She rode her bike to a bookstore to look for the book that was about what women thought as they dressed and shopped. There was no such book.
Now this book exists, and it’s full of stories in all their candour and strangeness. Some stories I can relate to, such as Sadie Stein’s tale of transformative clothes that, whenever you wear them, something changes. I’d met a few powerful dresses in my time, an evil wig, a squirrel brooch with magical powers. Other stories make me think what utterly different creatures other humans can be. There’s photos of collections of unworn necklaces and striped shirts, navy blazers and lipstick blots. It is a little like sitting in a new friend’s bedroom, cross-legged on the bed, while they show you outfits from their wardrobe, trying to decide what to wear. Your eyes roam around the room, taking in everything.
After reading the book I got to thinking what I might have written about clothes in the past. I’ve written plenty about op shopping but the one story that came to mind was this story about dresses and kisses. 50 shades of polyester… here is some of the story, originally from I am a Camera #11, from 2007, a long time ago.
Looking through my papers the other night – and “my papers” is not one concertina file of neatly organised documents, let me tell you – I found the Schreurs celery girl.
She has long been my favourite produce box mascot, I with her beauty spot and crest of hair. I’d imagine her to be very healthy, with her diet of celery. I was pleased to find her in a cardboard envelope of otherwise unrelated papers (though what would be related, a collection of fruit and vegetable mascots carefully cut out from boxes? If only). Because a few months ago I noticed that her diet of celery had transformed her into another girl altogether.
21st Century celery girl, I know times change, and it must be nice to give the bikini a rest, but I do miss the old you.