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Disposable Camera

January 31, 2018

Has it really been 5 years since I’ve published a Disposable Camera? It seems so. I had recently been wondering if disposable cameras still existed, but then one day I was on the train in Sydney, passing through Circular Quay station, which gives you a postcard view of the harbour. As I looked out towards the harbour, a teenage boy on the other side of the carriage took a photo through the window with a disposable camera. I heard the snap of the shutter and the rasping sound of the film being wound on. They still exist, I thought, maybe it’s time to reinstate my own Disposable Camera. Soon after this day I cut some paper into quarters, unboxed the Olivetti Valentine, began to type and let the words lead me.

This new Disposable Camera is about a specific memory object, that being a koala souvenir that once lived alongside me, and now lives in my thoughts. I’ll be debuting it at the zine fair for the Festival of the Photocopier in Melbourne on February 11th at the Melbourne Town Hall. I’ve also listed it on Etsy, for those elsewhere or eager.

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Ursula Le Guin’s Blue Moon Over Thurman Street

January 24, 2018

This morning I heard the news of Ursula Le Guin’s death, or perhaps it is more accurate to say I saw it: her face, and the covers of her books, and images in tribute on social media. Le Guin wrote immersively of fantasy worlds. The islands of Earthsea floated in their ocean, but also in her readers’ imaginations. Transferred between this world and ours was her wisdom.

A few years ago I found a different kind of Ursula le Guin book, the nonfiction book Blue Moon Over Thurman Street, written in collaboration with photographer Roger Dorband. The book was $1 and I’d found it poked in among the cookbooks and outdated travel guides of the nonfiction shelf of a Salvation Army op shop. I first had to check it was the Ursula Le Guin, because it was so unlike the books she is known for. It was a book that, in photographs and poetry, told the story of a street: Thurman Street in Portland, Oregon, where Le Guin lived.

“To walk a street is to be told a story,” she writes in the introduction. Over the decades she’d walked along Thurman Street – a long straight street of 45 blocks, which starts at the river and ends in the forest of Macleay Park – she noticed its daily changes and then its larger ones, as the gentrification of the late 1980s took hold. But she wanted to capture “not the losses and gains but the permanence” of the place. She worked with photographer Roger Dorband, responding to his photographs. Some photos she’d asked him to take, others he took as he walked Thurman Street. “Roger’s Thurman Street is bluer and darker and bleaker than mine; it has more cars and more power lines. My street has more kids, cats, dogs and housewives than his.” Together, they documented the moments through which, Le Guin writes, is “the only way to catch permanence”.

It’s a book with a light touch, for all the depth of place and time it covers. Le Guin’s handwritten texts alongside the photos are like captured thoughts, and interspersed with them are stories from neighbours, and sections from the Bhagavad Gita, “which in its austere tenderness acknowledges all chance and change, including them in stillness”. Additionally, Dorband’s notes on the photographs at the end of the book tell the stories of how they came into being, take us into the energy of each moment.

I’ll look through this book today, with its shadows and windows and people caught mid-step, and think about Le Guin walking here throughout her long life, her thoughts in the moment, or in worlds elsewhere.

Crimezines and Festival of the Photocopier

January 14, 2018

Early 2018 sees some activity in the zine realm of Vanessa Berry World.

First up, I’m running a zine workshop at the Museum of Sydney to coincide with their Underworld exhibition. The exhibition is a collection of 1920s police mugshots, and it tells the stories of some of the underworld characters who operated in the city in that era. For the workshop we will use archival photos from the 1920s Sydney city streets and vintage advertising imagery as the basis for Underworld-inspired zines. I’ll bring some of my typewriters along and we’ll have a fun afternoon in the underworld of the city past. For information and bookings, see the event page at Sydney Living Museums.

In February, I’ll be travelling to Melbourne for the Festival of the Photocopier zine fair on Sunday February 11th, 12-5pm. It has been years since I’ve been able to attend so I’m very much looking forward to what is certainly Australia’s largest and most popular zine fair. I’ll have a new zine to debut as well as copies of my recent zines, and I’ll be sharing a table with the lovely Erin Fae. We’ll be collecting cake recommendations and dispensing zines and stories, so do stop by and visit us if you’re at the fair.

In other zine news, a zine I made 22 years ago kicked off the Zines I Will Never Throw Out instagram. It’s always interesting to see zines of mine that have been kept for such a long time, especially when they were made over a couple of late nights when I was a teenager, long ago.

Two Muses for December

December 2, 2017

Talking Mirror Sydney

November 7, 2017

 

In this video for the Sydney Mechanics School of Arts, I spoke about my new book Mirror Sydney and how I came to write it, in the bookish surrounds of Berkelouw Paddington.

Mirror Sydney

September 17, 2017

My new book has been published by Giramondo Publishing and is out in stores and available to order! It is based on my blog Mirror Sydney, the project that I have been working on for the past five years, so it’s a proud moment to see it out in the world. A collection of essays and hand-drawn maps, the book charts an alternative Sydney, investigating the minor, the odd, and the unexpected, and the layers of time that exist in the present. It’s about Sydney as well as a way of encountering and perceiving urban places, taking notice of atmospheres, moods and details.

I write about edgelands and abandoned places, urban wilderness, anachronistic places, forgotten traditions, and suburban memories. I ride the monorail and travel on the underground footway that, in the 1960s, was seen as the peak of future transportation technology. I visit the lost property auction where years worth of objects left on trains are put up for sale. I read the messages on the community notice boards and ghost signs. I travel into the suburbs, and investigate the city’s underground, and the places where unexpected memories lie.

 

Zines on The Mix

June 26, 2017

A short profile on contemporary zine culture by Lisa Skerrett screened on ABC’s The Mix last weekend – visit the Other Worlds zine fair, Sticky Institute, Copier Jam, and me in my room to hear a little bit about the state of zines in 2017 and a little bit about the decades before. If you’d like to watch it, hop to it, it’s up on ABC iView until July 8th.

While I’m in zine announcement mode, I’ve put some copies of I am a Camera #19 up on etsy for those who’d like to order it.