I've never quite figured out what the second building was built for, though it's one of my favourite examples of buildings that look like they could be from a 60s sci-fi film. The first building was where everyone got married during Soviet times - Christian culture was so imbedded in Georgia that they built somewhere that looked like a modern cathedral for the civil ceremonies.
Friday, 25 September 2009
Strange buildings of Tbilisi
I've never quite figured out what the second building was built for, though it's one of my favourite examples of buildings that look like they could be from a 60s sci-fi film. The first building was where everyone got married during Soviet times - Christian culture was so imbedded in Georgia that they built somewhere that looked like a modern cathedral for the civil ceremonies.
Tuesday, 22 September 2009
Camping near Chechnya
Thursday, 17 September 2009
Tbilisi, party...
Green eyes flicker
like forests too
deep beneath black
hair confuses me.
House swaying and
City (so bright!) in
shudders of light - a
patchwork of disco-floors
and bright beetles
Too still! (he stared)
through youth
music too old to not be
loaded with implications
(wrong!) for now.
A small dog
scattered across the floor.
Green eyes
I wanted (wrong!)
This city I wanted too… Collect
balconies crumbled in
my pocket, a body
to smash them
to pieces where I lay
(Green eyes) I wanted…
(Breathe) through
falling stars the
grape vines dropped
shadows over echoes
I stood in
Vodka bottles
(half empty) leaving
guitars half strung for
green eyes (wrong!)
An empty home.
like forests too
deep beneath black
hair confuses me.
House swaying and
City (so bright!) in
shudders of light - a
patchwork of disco-floors
and bright beetles
Too still! (he stared)
through youth
music too old to not be
loaded with implications
(wrong!) for now.
A small dog
scattered across the floor.
Green eyes
I wanted (wrong!)
This city I wanted too… Collect
balconies crumbled in
my pocket, a body
to smash them
to pieces where I lay
(Green eyes) I wanted…
(Breathe) through
falling stars the
grape vines dropped
shadows over echoes
I stood in
Vodka bottles
(half empty) leaving
guitars half strung for
green eyes (wrong!)
An empty home.
Sunday, 26 July 2009
Wednesday, 22 July 2009
Thursday, 16 July 2009
Birdie went a courting
I'd forgotten about this well known clip from Mr Attenborough. Male birds of paradise trying to impress the ladies... The last one is possibly the best bird I have ever seen. Although bowerbirds have the best decorating habits (and build dens which is always a good thing) - they're going to be on a new series this autumn!
I also rather like lyre birds...
I also rather like lyre birds...
Sunday, 12 July 2009
Thursday, 9 July 2009
The Mystery of Marriage
Best and most English sex education film EVER from 1932 - how incest is best avoided in favour of a cousinly embrace as demonstrated by mould anyone?
Love on the wing
This little gem of an animation was made for and then banned by the Post Office in 1938 - I like the idea that the letter physically changes into the stories it holds... I miss proper post!
Wednesday, 10 June 2009
I <3 Decorator Crabs
Tuesday, 9 June 2009
Waltz of Circassian Beauties
William appears to have made a Paper Hats video. It's really rather lovely in a Nashville version of Oliver Postgate kind of way...
Monday, 18 May 2009
Moscow to Tashkent 1958
Okay so this has a lot of bias based on the fact that it is an American documentary from the 1950s about the Soviet Union, but in terms of the footage it's amazing to watch - Moscow, Tashkent, Samarkand, collective farms, nuclear research institutes...
Wednesday, 13 May 2009
Tuesday, 12 May 2009
Of ovens and model villages - it's Tito (baton) time!
As May 25th approaches and every harbourer of Yugoslav nostalgia dusts off their memorabilia in time for his birthday, this post is dedicated to my love of the batons of Tito's youth parades. Held every year during his rule as part of his official birthday celebrations, people from different areas across Yugoslavia made these batons to be carried to Belgrade via a mass countrywide relay (I think there was also one official baton each year). They liked to get them to him via impressive feats, including helicopters and absailing! I recently went to an exhibition at the Tito museum in Belgrade which had a load of these homemade batons on display. Being a fan of homemade presents of the slightly ridiculous variety I feel like my skills might have actually been appreciated at this time! I particularly like the random use of a plastic toy oven...




I was also quite impressed in the exhibition by some of the random presents made for Tito by various societies. Below are the society of dentists' creepy diorama, the pharmacist society's gift, which Damian Hirst obviously stole from, the orthopaedic society's somewhat creepy gift, and my personal favourite (purely for incongruity rather than the physical object), the completely random gift from the society of nuclear research - anyone who can find the link between said profession and a taxidermy spider and snake wins a prize (if you're lucky one of my classy homemade presents)!



I was also quite impressed in the exhibition by some of the random presents made for Tito by various societies. Below are the society of dentists' creepy diorama, the pharmacist society's gift, which Damian Hirst obviously stole from, the orthopaedic society's somewhat creepy gift, and my personal favourite (purely for incongruity rather than the physical object), the completely random gift from the society of nuclear research - anyone who can find the link between said profession and a taxidermy spider and snake wins a prize (if you're lucky one of my classy homemade presents)!
Monday, 11 May 2009
Tuesday, 28 April 2009
Another classic Belgrade shop display...
...this time just randomly on the street - I like the tradition of random street display cabinets - there's some good bridal ones, but this is my favourite from my recent trip!

Also to prove my point that all caravans eventually end up floating on the river in Belgrade - here is one seemingly on dry ground, but look! - there are tin barrels waiting to send it on its not quite a house or a boat random drifting way...
Also to prove my point that all caravans eventually end up floating on the river in Belgrade - here is one seemingly on dry ground, but look! - there are tin barrels waiting to send it on its not quite a house or a boat random drifting way...
Saturday, 25 April 2009
White Jazz
Oh it's all so very arch and English I know, but I just remembered how much I used to love this band...
Tuesday, 14 April 2009
Istanbul huzun poem for Belgrade...
You cradled me through this city.
Held my hand so
lifted gently above sodden streets
rain smashed through the soles of my shoes.
I did not notice that they had been full of holes for you.
Gradually wearing through from days held
Walking
Streets wrapped warm shivers from the trail of your hands
Too large for mine, they had enclosed me.
But I was okay.
You stood tall,
Shaded me from darkness
The drips of light that fell from your smeared hair bruised the side of my face.
I smiled then.
That night the city curved around me.
Too small
to be held properly
You encased me in your body.
There was a tower that saw everything.
Noticed us crawling streets that wound up to it
Like reversed rivers
It was a little confusing where they were going.
But they all led to the same place -
You and me and this city entwined in damp stone and old water.
We would be held here in flashes of light
An imagination snagged in electoral flags,
Scattered like village fete bunting.
The house with the face stared at me when you spoke
Laughed in ribbons of crumpled wood
Cried private history
It understood.
This city floated around us -
Too far to touch I had to see it in snapshot splutters
Minarets and blocks of flats the ground was trying to steal back
Crumble in so it could feed off their stories.
It held their secrets safe - people could walk the streets and not be weighed down by them.
I whispered mine out on the wind
Stroked your hair as you lay in my lap and hoped you’d get lost in an incantation.
I needed to lose you somehow and it was hard with you so close.
You would not let me go
Like the weather balloon broken from its tether
We drifted away.
Thought if I did so fast enough it would take with it these ideas of us that were
too strong now.
You were too strong for me.
As you smiled I felt the soft ropes that bound me to you tighten - mark my skin so
I was
Stained in pin-prick blushes.
Too much silence
(in miniature)
Made the small birds louder than cars.
The empty bus stops flickered
Strained to illuminate this place too caught up in darkness, falling
It fluttered
Caught the water breeze
Made new
Echoes spread themselves across the stone
Matted rain so these last dregs had to struggle more
To be heard
The light was heard more than seen here
Reflected like dropped stones and
Your silent whispers
I had misunderstood.
I touched your hand as you failed to move away.
Istanbul is a melancholic longing, he’d said.
Held in my eyes,
You sprinkled through the cracks that fell across buildings.
Held my hand so
lifted gently above sodden streets
rain smashed through the soles of my shoes.
I did not notice that they had been full of holes for you.
Gradually wearing through from days held
Walking
Streets wrapped warm shivers from the trail of your hands
Too large for mine, they had enclosed me.
But I was okay.
You stood tall,
Shaded me from darkness
The drips of light that fell from your smeared hair bruised the side of my face.
I smiled then.
That night the city curved around me.
Too small
to be held properly
You encased me in your body.
There was a tower that saw everything.
Noticed us crawling streets that wound up to it
Like reversed rivers
It was a little confusing where they were going.
But they all led to the same place -
You and me and this city entwined in damp stone and old water.
We would be held here in flashes of light
An imagination snagged in electoral flags,
Scattered like village fete bunting.
The house with the face stared at me when you spoke
Laughed in ribbons of crumpled wood
Cried private history
It understood.
This city floated around us -
Too far to touch I had to see it in snapshot splutters
Minarets and blocks of flats the ground was trying to steal back
Crumble in so it could feed off their stories.
It held their secrets safe - people could walk the streets and not be weighed down by them.
I whispered mine out on the wind
Stroked your hair as you lay in my lap and hoped you’d get lost in an incantation.
I needed to lose you somehow and it was hard with you so close.
You would not let me go
Like the weather balloon broken from its tether
We drifted away.
Thought if I did so fast enough it would take with it these ideas of us that were
too strong now.
You were too strong for me.
As you smiled I felt the soft ropes that bound me to you tighten - mark my skin so
I was
Stained in pin-prick blushes.
Too much silence
(in miniature)
Made the small birds louder than cars.
The empty bus stops flickered
Strained to illuminate this place too caught up in darkness, falling
It fluttered
Caught the water breeze
Made new
Echoes spread themselves across the stone
Matted rain so these last dregs had to struggle more
To be heard
The light was heard more than seen here
Reflected like dropped stones and
Your silent whispers
I had misunderstood.
I touched your hand as you failed to move away.
Istanbul is a melancholic longing, he’d said.
Held in my eyes,
You sprinkled through the cracks that fell across buildings.
Wednesday, 8 April 2009
Memories of a city... pt 2
Michael took much better photos than me...







It's funny when you visit a new city - it's the initial atmosphere that hits you that always fascinates me. Istanbul wasn't what I expected - too functional in some way - but rather than dismissing my preconceptions, I felt like they were true, but hiding... There is a whole different city lurking on the same land somehow. Like it is waiting for you to understand and then it will reveal itself... One day I will go back and find it, but for now Michael's photos do quite a good job at catching the hints that flew past us on the wind...
It's funny when you visit a new city - it's the initial atmosphere that hits you that always fascinates me. Istanbul wasn't what I expected - too functional in some way - but rather than dismissing my preconceptions, I felt like they were true, but hiding... There is a whole different city lurking on the same land somehow. Like it is waiting for you to understand and then it will reveal itself... One day I will go back and find it, but for now Michael's photos do quite a good job at catching the hints that flew past us on the wind...
Sunday, 5 April 2009
I <3 oversized cats...
A good topic for a hungover Sunday morning and a not reluctant, as I'm too pleased (they are so good), acceptance that Simon was right and not making fun of how gullible I am. Ligers exist! Immense excitement...


I have always been a fan of fat animals - my pet rats remained enormous even after a strict fruit and veg diet (though they did use their exercise wheel as a hammock...) - and capybara will always rule the fens in my heart... But anyway - what I actually want as a pet right now is a Maine Coon cat - you have to see photos of them with random strangers I don't know to truly appreciate their scale... And they have tufty ears like lynxes!


I have always been a fan of fat animals - my pet rats remained enormous even after a strict fruit and veg diet (though they did use their exercise wheel as a hammock...) - and capybara will always rule the fens in my heart... But anyway - what I actually want as a pet right now is a Maine Coon cat - you have to see photos of them with random strangers I don't know to truly appreciate their scale... And they have tufty ears like lynxes!


Friday, 3 April 2009
Memories of a city...
Tuesday, 17 March 2009
I'm off to...
ISTANBUL! So in honour of my impending adventure with the lovely Michael here is the only video for a Selda Bagcan track I could find. God that album is good...
Thursday, 15 January 2009
Friday, 9 January 2009
Saturday, 27 December 2008
Drunken Georgian lads = singing
I really love Georgian polyphonic singing and I also really love how Georgian's sing at every opportunity. I remember when me and William were there in 2007 we were serenaded by friends of friends in a park and sat in on teenage boys learning traditional song as a matter of pride. I also love how in these clips they are managing it whilst really drunk and chain smoking... I can't help but wonder if British boys sung more we'd have less fighting and vomiting in the streets on Saturday night... Having said that Georgian men fight more than any I've ever met so... maybe this is a silly point. The clips are quite funny though...
Sunday, 7 December 2008
The Paper Hats
A very dear old friend of mine makes very beautiful music under the name The Paper Hats. He has just released a record of it called Deseret Canyon. If you want to hear snippets of it and him talking about Mormon alphabets, world fairs and distant adventures and history you can do so here. Enjoy!
Sunday, 16 November 2008
Is that all there is...
On the subject of martinis, radios and bows as a remedy for emotional woes, here's a fabulous performance of my favourite Peggy Lee song...
Improved design for modern man

I got this from Fed By Birds (see links). I like how the man has a birdcage and a detachable heart (useful sometimes sadly) and the lady has twigs tied with bows, martinis and a radio - we're obviously the better sex for a self-sufficient party (which in some ways is the healthier way of forgetting about the emotionally sadder things in life)... It's by a 1940s Russian surrealist...
Tuesday, 28 October 2008
Bucharest Exhibition
I have just got back from Bucharest where we had the opening for the exhibition for Metroarts proposals. It went really well and at the press conference the lady from the Peasant Museum said I had captured the spirit of the Romanian peasant! It's running at the Carturesti gallery for the next couple of weeks. Everyone's work looked great. Here's a few photos of mine:








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