Visual Giggo 13/8/17 | Babushka's Shadow Biosphere, Get the Picture?"
i'm getting back to basics, putting on two things at the same time. jeans and a tshirt; jack kerouac reading from on the road and alice coltrane turiya and ramakrishna, on just at once, at the same time. it's a good thing, you can turn your mind off, you can turn your mind to many things at the same time, don't be mistaken!
so on the radio last night a woman was talking about a shadow world. it wasn't the shadow world of winona ryder and dark synth music coming back into fashion, but the great "idea" that beneath, within, and around our own world are the other beings we're looking for far far away. as in, not so much aliens, but beings we just don't have the tools to see or measure yet. that phrase "shadow biosphere" brings great synthetic lights into my brain. there's pretty new research into the biosphere in our own bodies, just sitting there in our bellies, (organisms with) their own cities, their own music and own purposes existing despite, along with, through and in our own. at lunch yesterday another woman told me our heart's electromagnetics reach quite a way in front, behind and around us. she had nice little teeth, they were a little bit grey, and everyone else at the table left but we were still there muddling about straight as arrows, into the new worlds for us, of what quantum physics is bringing to cosmology for breakfast.
i saw a great show this week, well, i played in a great show too, wearing dockers tracksuit pants and a singlet and sitting up on my haunches with one hand in the air and one hand on the mic and the wind from outside babushkas bowling my long hair across my face, across the microphone, and into the music. it was a great relief after a show a few nights earlier after which i had to hide in the bathroom in shame, for doing a shitty job of the thing called music, live.
emma, daisy's net, put the great show on at babushkas - "get the picture, visual giggo". again i got to hear her and sam rocchi together, her cello slightly out of tune again, sam's voice on display again, and again the only thing i could fault with it all is his slight accent that's not from here, perth, these covered over lands of the derbarl yerrigan. sing with your own accent everyone, nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to hide. [update: turns out sam is actually american, ha! so, nothing to fault at all anymore]. yes, a voice like a little bit of thom yorke or the lilac wine guy, reminding me of seeing jake webb play before methyl ethel hit the 'big time', at the bird and any other venue, these beautiful man voices that can soar around and take with them honest words, where who knows what they're about but you get the picture still.
yeah, and also, jack gaby did something i've never seen him do, with arpeggiators and a great wazzling video display up behind him going all the time, and i spent the whole half hour trying to work out if it was connected to the music or if the connections were just being made by own own brains, sound to motion. (look up macumbista.net or nathan john thompson if u will). that's what our brains are really into, connection. i can connect between kerouac, coltrane, this keyboard and also into recent world and local events, and even breathe at the same time, even though i'm a woman etc.
well, the rest of the week i went to a rally to say "JUSTICE FOR ELIJAH", winding sad and strong up along the streets of the city to parliament house, cruel joke that that's still where people have to go for justice. where is justice for the traditional owners? where are the traditional owners teaching us how to live in this place, what accent to have, what adventures to go on and how to understand them magically, culturally, interpersonally. i don't know, they're going to funerals, they're crying with their grandchildren having lost another teenager to self or other rage.
this rally was a powerful moment. i could feel the power in between my outstretched hands actually, as people spoke and as they had specific plants burning for a purpose and as they sung in language that not very long ago they would have been beaten for uttering. all the way up to parliament house, with cops along the edges, telling people where they could and could not walk on their own lands.
and then the day became predictable. i went to a casting for a beer ad and it was pretty much all white people there, which is what is is but is also such a mini-testament to all of it and the music is disintegrating and so-so am i. i'd never done this, a casting for an ad, but it was more predictable than the rally, if you get the picture etc.
me and ben mcdonald from human bouy were at the casting, and then a bevvy of models of all 2 shapes and sizes, as in tall and thin, or a little bit shorter and thin. the photographer was definitely not into me and i made a choking fool of myself in front of the camera, frozen like eight mile, when i'd egotistically, proudly watched the models all choking before me and thought "ha! i know how to do this better than the pros!" but ben was the best, he let his hair fluff and droop over his head, he charaded looking for coffee at an imaginary share house and embodied the hair and spirit of all kinds of beer, wheat, effort, struggle against the land, excitement, music and hot lights on a stage etc etc etc.
now i'll go over to cool perth bites and make some more structured and controlled comments there.