Australian bushfire tragedy

Snakes and dead things are like, so gothic.

The sublime cowgirl is a little bewildered at the video currently circulating virally on the net of the python eating a wallaby up in Cairns.
You know that one where that snake fails to swallow the little kangaroo, regurgitates the head and the camera gal swears? The most read news story on FOXnews and the News.com.au site yesterday?

While it could be said that snakes and dead things are like, so gothic, and thus worthy of inclusion on this blog, that's not the reason I'm finding it weird and am writing about it here.

Actually its because the camera gal is me. Weird huh!

Sarah Palin's Halloween Hair.

According to Reuters, Pentecostal Palin's hair with its straight bangs, beehive top and cascading locks is currently a massive craze amongst Halloween partygoers and, oddly enough, NY's Orthodox Jews.

Straight bangs? Beehive top? Cascading locks?
Rewind two years to 2006 and strangely enough, there i am, nose ring and all, 'retro - channeling' the Sarah P.

Hell, i'm almost doing the same mouth thing.

How very Bizarre.

Ooo - just heard at the time of Larry Norman's death he was working on an album with Frank Black and Isaac Brock of Modest Mouse, which is due to be released later this year.

I.can't.wait.

Kitsch heaven - the retro photocopy craze!

Nothing i like better than a kitsch participatory internet craze.
The internet phenomenon Young Me / Now Me or Retro Photocopiers is such a groovy little idea, and sweet way to while away a Sunday afternoon in suburban Brisbane. My mum took this pic of me licking the beaters of her Sunbeam mixmaster in the orange kitchen of her beachside house in Mackay sometime in the early seventies. The Now Me pic above was taken by my 10 year son in the lounge of my suburban house in Brisbane Australia. The mash-up is courtesy of Bill Gates and technology unheard of when i was a wee thing.

If i could work out how, i would upload these pics to Ze Franks Colorwar2008 site, but i'm too slack to work it out this afternoon. The other shots are so worth a peek, though. (ANy cleverdick who can post mine, feel free).

Looking at the pics reminds me of a guy i met on Flickr Ozoni11 (waving on the couch) who brought Bowie home to his Mum's house in 71. How awesome is this shot? Photocopy that guys!

Tasering the black dog.

Electroconvulsive therapy - sizzling your brain to induce a clonic seizure (to the point of losing consciousness and bringing on convulsions for at least 15 seconds) - is back in vogue. Recent studies show it can be remarkably effective in treating depression, mania and psychosis for sufferers resistant to the typical suite of pharma concoctions.

Having grown up with a father who experienced severe uncontrolled epileptic seizures the idea that actively inducing them could be beneficial for some people strikes me as bizarre, but intriguing, nonetheless.

Anyway, this concept made me wonder - is it possible that being tasered could ever have positive mental health outcomes for people?

I'm not sure how the voltage compares with ECT but its an interesting thought, particularly since a number of people at risk of being tasered would likely be acting out issues associated with underlying mental health conditions.

I rang Australian pop-cultural science guru Dr Karl Kruszelnicki to see if he had the heads up on this one, but it stumped him too.

I imagine there would be a myriad of factors/variables that would need to be considered including the context and percieved 'fairness' of being tasered and the likelihood that police intervention would be positively correlated with later uptake of other mental health services (i'm postulating that if an incident resulted in tasering, that victim would be more likely to have a mandatory or voluntary assessment) .

I'd be fascinated to hear of any studies or anecdotal evidence on this one - so drop me a line and i'll post up any links.

Suburban Gothic vs International Tragic: Britney and Kenya's decent into chaos.

According to Google, there are currently more news articles about american pop star Britney Spears psychological meltdown then Kenya's decent into civil hell.

'Kill two, get one free': Kenya's cry of hate
Times Online - all 2,996 news articles »

Dr. Phil sez Britney Spears needs 'psychological intervention' New York Daily News - all 2,999 news articles » Read the two lead stories above and you'd be forgiven for despairing deeply for humanity. On so many levels

my gift to y'all from david bowie and bing crosby.

Six Feet Under Last Episode

revisiting the end of the most perfect show ever to grace the set.

never free nor ever chaste....

I've been reflecting on faith lately (which is hardly unusual for me) so was intrigued to see exerpts from Mother Theresa's personal letters today in which she admits to periods of intense personal struggle. Yet on reading her thoughts, and wrestlings with profound doubt, it only seems to make her work more remarkable, her faith more real and her life more authentically human.


"Jesus has a very special love for you. As for me, the silence and the emptiness is so great that I look and do not see, listen and do not hear," she wrote to the Reverend Michael van der Peet in September 1979.

"I spoke as if my very heart was in love with God - tender, personal love," she wrote to one adviser. "If you were (there), you would have said, 'What hypocrisy'."

"Please pray specially for me that I may not spoil His work and that Our Lord may show Himself -- for there is such terrible darkness within me, as if everything was dead," she wrote in 1953. "It has been like this more or less from the time I started 'the work'."

Then in 1956: "Such deep longing for God - and ... repulsed - empty - no faith - no love - no zeal. (Saving) souls holds no attraction - Heaven means nothing - pray for me please that I keep smiling at Him in spite of everything."

And then in 1959: "If there be no God - there can be no soul - if there is no Soul then Jesus - You also are not true."

"I utter words of community prayers - and try my utmost to get out of every word the sweetness it has to give - but my prayer of union is not there any longer - I no longer pray."
-Reuters

Something in the explicit honesty of Mother Theresa's writings brought to mind what is perhaps my favourite poem

Batter My Heart

Batter my heart, three-personed God; for you
as yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend.
That I may rise and stand, o'erthrow me and bend
your force to break, blow, burn and make me new.
I, like an usurped town, to another due,
labor to admit you, but, oh, to no end;
reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
but is captived and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly I love you and would be loved fain,
but am betrothed unto your enemy:
divorce me, untie or break that knot again,
take me to you, imprison me, for I,
except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.

For those of who have struggled through dark nights of the soul, there is something deeply reassuring that we, while ever restless and sometimes tormented, are not alone in experiencing times of screaming silence.

mmmm sweden...

on second thoughts...

...flower gardens in bomb shells betray a darker side of laos' past - the Secret War.

Phousi massage and other strange asian delights

Its almost disapointing to find Asian translated English devoid of endearing faux pas. Our favourite restaurant in Laos, which leans precariously over the steep banks of the Mekong, offers diners the choice of Sprite, Fanta or Cock. A little further down the road, Fried Tit and French Flies can be ordered from the menu, as straight faced as possible.

But perhaps my favourite Lost in Translation phenomenon can be found in Luang Prabang; a city literally centred around its beloved Phousi mountain. Home to a thriving Buddhist Monastry (or 'monkery' as my 9 year old son calls it) and spectacular 360 degree views, the mountain has inspired numerous business names, from Phousi market to Phousi guesthouse. This, of course, isn't the slightest bit funny when you read it in the Lonely Planet, but can be quite amusing when someone suggests giving you a Phousi massage. It is at this point it can be very important to understand that the letter 'h' in this oft used word, is silent.

Seriously, One month in and we're all travelling brilliantly (if i say so myself).
We've gone cast fishing with locals in tiny Laos villages (wonderful), and ten pin bowling after midnight with swarms of backpackers (patchy), stayed in tropical bungalows and tiny spider filled huts. We've bathed with buffaloes, skipped over snakes and met a bunch of fabulous people along the way - travellers and locals alike.

If you ever do make it to Laos, you MUST get to Luang Prabang for Laos New Year in APril. Just trust me. (For $2.50 per person Seng Phet guesthouse offers comfortable beds, and fun staff - that means you, Phat!). Then jump in a truck/bus and head straight up to Muong Kaou, (spoil yourself at the the Riverside Bungalows for $30 bucks, or Sunshine guesthouse for $3 - the view is the same), then hop in a boat upstream to Muong Nuoi, a village devoid of cars and motorbikes, and running electricity only two hours per day. (We highly recommend staying with the adorable family who run Niksa's Bungalow.)

Ban Na village is an hours walk from here through tropical forest and hazy rice fields. The cave along the way is surrounded by crystal clear water you wont be able to resist, unless you happen to be a monk and are scared off by the awesomeness of approaching women. (The whole monk\female aversion is selective at best - i've been leered, giggled and waved at by groups of young novices just as i would at any western construction site..the difference, it seems, is the presence of a Senior Monk to keep a lid on things.)

Sadly we had to leave Laos after three weeks, and headed over to Chiang Mai, and up to Maddie's beloved Chiang Dao Lodge at Ban Ba Bong near Chiang Dao. ITs a bit of a anti-climax heading back into Thailand with its noise, smelly streets and aggressive touts, but at least we were spared that up at Tim and Steve's Lodge. Unfortunatley we havent been spared a nasty bout of gastro that has hit us all over the past few days since we have been back in Bangkok, and are desparately trying to shake it before our flight to London tonight.

I guess that's that all i have time to write before my internet access expires, and we still have to pack to make the plane in time. Apologies for lack of personal emails, but am thinking of you all heaps and looking forward to catching up with our friends in Europe.

( And for the record, phousi massage is fabulous).

Is nowhere safe?

Guess who I spotted on the street -
Ubon Ratchitani, Thailand

Luang Prabang - Northern Laos

Absolutely adoring Luang Prabang - its Lao new year this weekend, and part of the festivities include everyone soaking each another with buckets of water (or water pistols for the more high tech)! Been drenched through every day this week.... highly recommended for parched Brisbanians.

Not sure if we'll make it to Cambodia before we fly out to Europe- have settled very nicely into the Loatian rhythm of life and intend sticking around a bit longer....

The bright red hair has been fading fast so i bought some bleach from a local barbers today and bleached Fynn and our local guesthouse attendants hair at the same time, much to his friends amusement. (I packed a sachet of red dye from home for mine of course). We all ended up looking a little trashy, but hey, we're backpackers now, so we blend right in.

There is a great bookshop\cafe here where you can donate, buy or rent books by the hour, with proceeds going into literacy projects in the area. Some good authors too (including mr vonnegut RIP) and have wasted quite a few hours already. Next door, Hive is a rather funky bar that wouldn't look out of place in New Farm, except they have a Happy hour which lasts from 5pm - 9pm and sell two for one cocktails for around $3. Dangerous.

The kids did a day of 'school' with some french expat kids this week, and have befriended the local cats. Lots more i should say, but the connection is skakey and slow, so will sign off while the going is good.

Stark Eurasian travel update....

Thailand (Bangkok and Ubon) Lost:

• One pair of shorts
• One Gameboy Advance SP
• (half of) One Front Tooth
• One kilogram

Otherwise, all fine and dandy. Staying next to KhaoSan Rd - backpacker central. Congrats to Colette and Danny and Ben and Sally on the birth of their respective bubs last week!

Tomorrow: Luang Prabang.....

Jesus Loves Osama

credit: AFP photo


Jesus may love Osama but John Howard doesn't seem too fond of that particular carpenter at the moment.

It seems Howard takes issue with those who attempt to follow Jesus' "Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you" line, apparently accusing this Sydney Baptist church of having its priorities wrong.

Heh.

A one minute sermon for george w bush

As George admits his Iraq strategy hasn't worked, and prepares to send 20 000 more heavily armed young americans to shoot up the bad-guys, I can't help but think of aging xian rocker Larry Normans song 'the Great American Novel' from his 1972 folk rock album Only Visiting this Planet. Despite the track "i wish we'd all been ready' not doing anything to reduce the rapture anxiety of my childhood, the rest of the album is an absolute gospel gem.

"You are far across the ocean
but the war is not your own
and while you're winning theirs
you're gonna lose the one at home
Do you really think the only way
to bring about real peace
is to sacrifice your children
and kill all your enemies?"

find the rest of the lyrics at MarkCyberCafe..

While Bush may not be a fan, Black Francis of The Pixies is, citing Norman as a pivotal influence on his music, covering his songs, and appearing on stage together. By the way, the pic above is from another album, A long time ago in the garden. The image of a lion projected onto an apparently naked Larry did little to quell the controversy amongst fundamentalists at mixing christian lyrics with rock rhythms. Norman countered his critics by penning the now classic "Why should the devil have all the good music?".

From the sublime to the ridiculous....

If you thought my Poligoths were scary, brace yourself for the new designer purses clearly inspired, argues Dale Hrabi, by the best (and worst) of Hollywood Horror. Continuing to prove that money can't buy taste, the bag lady presents her Ugly Accessory of the Week.

Paul Hewson and David Jones

Paul Hewson is giving a little concert over at a park near my house tonight. I was lucky enough to see his rehersal last night (highlight was his Dylan takeoff) and was intrigued at the end of the set to hear Paul (known more commonly by his nickname 'Bono') invite Father Jack to 'give his blessing' over everyone invloved with the U2 tour on the eve of their Australian shows.

Bono's faith, music and his passion for social justice reminds me somewhat of former Midnight Oil frontman Peter Garretts days onstage. (Curious as to what Garrett is up to at the moment, a quick google search turned up this speech he delivered a few weeks ago:
Peter Garrett: Peacemaking for Christians in the 21st Century.)

Speaking of concerts...here is my nearly 60 y.o. main man David performing in NYC yesterday...proof that the 'moustache' image (below) was a mere blip on the otherwise delicious bowie radar.

Cowgirl. Camwhore.

Here's a pic of me camwhoring in my loungeroom in front of one of my favourite paintings. Its the first thing visitors see when they walk in the door. I figure its bad feng shui, but i dont care. Actually the painting is frightfully freudian; being symbollic of my father, but i wont bore you with my neurosis here. Plan is to paint a lot more over the next year....watch this space.

( and yes, its a wig!)

David Bowie - Chubby Little Loser

I had just finished watching the Bowie doco Cracked Actor when i came across this gem on You Tube from the Ricky Gervais show 'Extras' (click the image). It is a hell of a juxtaposition from the coked out skeleton of the 70's. In true chameleon form, Bowie is also starring in a new movie as Nikola Tesla - where he dons a moustache that oddly harks back more to Gervais in THe Office than the sublimely divine creature he actually is.
I still love ya Dave.

Flesh, Desire, Exploitation and Art

There has been some interesting commentary on the issue of the sexualisation and commodification of women and girls in the wake of the Australia Institute Report controversially entitled Corporate Paedophilia. Excellent discussion can be found Hoyden about Town, Larvatus Prodeo and the Bartlett Diaries.

Personally, the topic brought to mind one of my favourite images from the Burn series i did five years ago, entitled 'nipple'. (For a gal enamoured with metaphor, i was being oddly literal with this title.) The spiel from the exhibition is below.

Burn baby burn is a series of digital images of skin, the body, ash, fire and electric coils by artist Tanja Stark. Sexualised coil images infused with sadistic/masochistic and fetish undercurrents, such as 'nipple' (digital photograph 2001), explore the paradoxical nature of desire and exploitation. The inherent meaning of the work is complex and undefined. Are the images about reclaiming control of the body, or have the electric coils evolved into targets? Perhaps the act of branding flesh in some way associates women with cattle, as something to be marked, owned, or, to continue a recurring theme, consumed....?

I've come out against the creeping ( and often overt) sexualisation of increasingly younger and younger girls, but where do i stand on the issue of the sexualisation of adult women? Is it a cop out to say its complex? Can't i have my (pan)cake (make-up) and wear it too? I'll have to think about this a little and get back on this one. (i wish i could express myself in words as well as in pictures.)

Speaking of pictures and art, its nice to know rich people are as clutzy as the rest of us. According to someone who was there, shortly after finalising the $135 million sale of Picasso's Le Reve (the Dream) Milllionare owner Steve Wynn accidently fell into the canvas tearing a hole right through the chubby arm of its blissful subject, screwing up the deal. In a spectacular show of perpective, hapless Stevo is said to have later observed "“My feeling was, It’s a picture, it’s my picture, we’ll fix it. Nobody got sick or died. It’s a picture. It took Picasso five hours to paint it.”

The Prison inside

I recently spent a couple of nights at Addington Prison in Christchurch. While some of you may not be surprised at this fact, (even having a brief glimmer of schadenfreude), i should really mention that i had to pay to get in, as it had just been converted into a boutique backpackers...so i guess i'm still a free woman.

Unlike many others.

Around 2am the night before i checked out, i saw a guest fumbling with the front door and went to let him in. Yet on opening the door, instead of smiling as he tipsily ambled past as i was expecting, the man immediately implored me to call an ambulance as he had been stabbed. Of course, i replied, but contrary to my usual compassionate self, shut the glass door on him as he attempted to come in from the cold.

As a woman alone in a deserted foyer, i'd instinctively read something about this guy that didn't add up, and erred on the side of caution. He was clutching his arm in pain, and he wasn't aggressive in any way, but something told me to keep my distance. I called the ambulance of course, but called the cops as well. I mean if he had been stabbed, it stood to reason someone out there had done the stabbing.

(THe irony of summonsing the cops to attend a prison to investigate a stabbed guy trying to get inside wasn't lost on anyone, least of all the investigating officer whose last visit was to deliver a man on remand into the holding cells.)

As it turned out, the man was experiencing a psychotic episode and had actually stabbed himself, so was taken to Christchurch hospital for assessment, leaving me thinking, as i lay in my cell, about the many others who appear free but are imprisoned by their minds with fear and paranoia, ritual and obsession, depression and anxiety.

Mental Illness is a tough one. I've struggled with depression in the past, as have many of my friends and collegues and i dont mean a period of sluggish flatness, but rather the hideous black cloud that drains you of all but despair, and beyond that, into meaningless nothingness. So i really felt for that guy and his crazy violent plea for help, trapped in a cloudy headspace. I even felt guilty for shutting the door on him, as prudent as it was as an isolated female in an empty room, as i dislike the association of mental illness with violence.

What is real however, is the lack of resources in our communitites for people to access the help they need, in ways that are constructive, timely and mindful of their dignity so I was pleased to hear the Feds announcement of a new Mental Health package, extending medicare rebates to social workers, occupational therapists and psychologists to provide community based support in Australia. Its a step in the right direction, but there is still a long way to go.

Hot Goth Chicks

I'm back in the sunburnt country again, and will post another entry about my nz trip (including my short stay behind bars) in the next day or two. In the meantime, this post is dedicated to all you boys out there in cyberland who, according to my most recent site statistics, have been eagerly typing in the above search term and have found yourselves directed to Suburban Gothic instead.

While i hope there is a little more cerebral content in this site than you may have been expecting, i'd hate you to leave disappointed...

New Zealand

I'm currently on a jaunt through New Zealand and have limited internet access for the next week or so. We' ve visited Christchurch, Skiied at Mt Cheeseman, and are now down in Dunedin feeling quite at home in this Scottish little town. And yesterday I discovered that Sea Lions are the most gorgeous mammals ever invented: cute, lazy, adorable and bitey - somewhat like the sublime cowgirl herself.

We attempted to visit an 'emerging church' / alternative spirituality group (which seem to abound in New Zealand fostered by key people such as Steve Taylor) last week, but ended up at a conventional baptist service - (damn and drats). Fortunately there was a divine Anne Lamont book laying around at the place we stayed, which kind of countered the disappointment.

If you're keen to know more about this movement and its incarnations here are a few linksthe Goth Eucharist. As well, a recent article on the Sydney Anglican website taking a swipe at the emerging church movement for its structureless soft-on-doctrine character, the ensuing debate and the april fools day joke taken literally can be found here.
including one of my faves :

Get thee behind me, Santa I've been saved by Rev Billy

Or at least hold off for a bit. The ubiquitous Mr Claus, quite possibly the only celebrity more over-exposed than Paris Hilton atm, has already begun appearing at my local Coles supermarket. Holy baby Jesus, ...its barely September. Yesterday my partner and I couldn't resist the temptation to turn the rows of chocolate grinning santas inward so their little backs faced outwards; much to the delight of our 8 year old (and shame of our 10 y.o. who found our dodgy spot of culture jamming just 'like sooo embarressing').

If a crass commercial Christmas is your want, far be it from me to keep you from yourself, but surely its not too much to ask that we wait until November at very least?

In the meantime the more sane amongst you might enjoy these subversive little culture jamming sites: Spelling mistakes cost lives, Get Saved from over consumption with Reverend Billy and the Church of Stop Shopping (make sure to listen to the audio!), and the Christmas cards I would send if i was the sort of person who sent Christmas cards, which i'm not, so just because you dont get one from me doesn't mean i dont love you. :) x the cowgirl

Decontructing Irwin: culture wars on the homefront

Hold tight and watch as the death of Irwin morphs into a wider debate on patriotism, celebrity, national identity, and gender.
Germaine Greer has waded in this morning with an opinion piece on her disdain for Irwin's methods. Irrespective of the merit or otherwise of Greer's comments, the poor timing of her words ensures they will be interpreted by many as a slap in the face to men who relate to and respect Irwin's contribution to Australia, and the young mothers comforting their children on the loss of their hero.
The ironic tragedy of these comments is that they will only serve to further distance many reasonable working class young men and women from contemporary feminist dialogue, something, Greer, of all people should avoid.

Irwin's approach may be a 'boys own' adventure, but to be fair, i've never seen David Attenborough's wife standing shoulder to shoulder with him as he traipsed the world, and Terri Irwin, as Greer seems to have conveniently overlooked, is a stunning example of a woman who is not afraid to get her hands dirty.

Steve Irwin, Death and Children

I was just driving to pick up my son from school and heard Richard Fidler on ABC Radio talking about Steve Irwin in past tense.

Past tense.

I turned up the dial and focused on the story that was unfolding - Steve Irwin Crocodile Hunter - has been killed just outside Cairns. By a stingray. A barb to the heart.
Can stingrays kill you? I had no idea.

Not quite sure why i felt saddened so much by the news. I think its like losing a lovable larrakin cousin.

As i picked up my 8 y.o. son Hunter, i told him of the news.

We tuned into the radio together and listened as the commentators gave updates, and callers rang in with their stories of Steve, who grew up here in Brisbane. Every one was shocked and caller after caller was making references to the death of Diana.

Then things got really sad. We got home and Fluffy, my son's five and a half year old guinea pig was dying. He was only two when we got her. He no longer only grieved Steve Irwin. A cruel double blow.

This is going to be a tough day for an young boy bearing Irwin's nickname.

Death of celebrities are curious cultural events; a strange synthesis of pop culture and national identity, resilience and fragility, transition and mortality. A salient reminder that despite it all, we all bleed red blood, and will inevitably die.

I guess for Australians, especially those of us here in Brisbane, or like me, who have swum off that coast in North Queensland, it is particularly poignant. Perhaps even, to stay on theme, it truly is a suburban gothic event, just decked out in Khaki for maximum accessibility - the masses now face to face with the shadow that stalks us all; the beautiful and the yobbish, the poor and the successful, the good and the bad.

I have to go and be with my son now, but will continue this post later tonight, after the funeral when the boygroom is home and the guinea pig grief subsides a bit.

*Just a note: Hunter asked me not to put Fluffy's picture on the computer just now, so my terracotta spirals will have to suffice. Rest in Peace Fluffy and Steve.
4th Sept 2006.
_______________________________________

Update : Well the Guinea Pig has now been buried and two Black Bean seeds have been laid in the earth, to sprout forth in simultaneous memory of Fluffy and Steve.

Just a couple of rambling thoughts this morning - I have been thinking, given the saturation media this is getting, perhaps some of the reason this man’s death is and will continue to resonate for a while, is that in so much as Diana the person gave way to Diana the concept and object of the projection of the princess fantasy archetype, Steve Irwin the man exists in tandem with Steve Irwin the concept - a projection of the collective ‘everyman’, the working class yobbo made good.

This is somewhat similar to the narrative projected upon the miners in Beaconsfield; however i would argue that in his actual case, he, unlike Diana et al, actually was transparent enough for us to see that the overlap between what we thought, and what we knew, was great.

And while i have argued before that the stereotypical larrikin aussie bloke (an obsession that once was put forth as characterising much of our National Identity) is almost redundant in 2006, perhaps a small part of Steve’s actual death is a collective unconscious grief for the loss of that archetype?

You may have noticed that working class white aussie males, are showing an unpreceedented respect and sadness over Steves passing. I find this really significant, because, by all reports, he wasn’t some misogynist bastard, but a fully testostorone driven hetro bloke who made treating your wife and children with adoration (not abuse) and caring passionaltely for conservation and the environment (the antithesis of bush bashing, rootin', croc shooting red-neck-ery) a decent and admirable thing for this demographic of men.

Look i’m sure he was a tosser about some things, (who isn’t) but his legacy is worth remembering and i think its ok for the nation to grieve a bit.

transition

I've just turned my house upside in a vain search for chocolate. A block, a bar, hell i'd even settle for a packet of cooking chocolate drops.

I want to comfort eat right now. No, its not that time of the month. I've quit my job. Resigned. Let it go, and i am at home now, contemplating my future.

It was the right thing to do. I was restless and was becoming increasingly symptomatic - hissy fits at the photocopier, policy induced lethargy, and dismay at the poor aesthetic merit of the beige walls.

So i went away and thought about what these symptoms were really about, and identified that while there are always internal issues in any workplace, there were some other challenges, outside this workplace, that i wanted to take on. And so, despite it being in so many ways a dream jobs for the past few years, i recognise that it is time to close this chapter and make space for the next adventure life wants to throw at me.

As i get older, i'm learning to read myself better and better. Its taken a while, but its happening.
Anxiety is simply that. The sky is not falling, i'm just listening to my internal critic too much. Or my serotonin is out of whack. Or, maybe i really have let someone down, and i'm churning over the damage i've done to that friendship.

Rather than berating myself for my character flaws, i'm learning to be gentle on myself; to make changes where necessary, to make ammends if possible, to let go of stuff quicker.

This may sound rudimentary, but the ironic part is i have worked with literally hundred of people around these and similar concepts in various stints as a counsellor and therapist but still have to remind myself to apply this to my own circumstance.

Anyway, i have a few weeks pay that will tide me over for a while and give me to time to figure out where i want to go.

And to pay for more supplies of chocolate.

Suffer the little children.......

Rat poison in playgrounds.
Liquid explosives in baby bottles.
Bombing kids in Beirut - kids visual expressions from inside a war zone.

THese concepts are getting me down today. Really down.
I'm not going to listen to the news for a while...its all too screwed up.

Staying on theme...In light of current legislation regarding off shore detention for refugees and in the spirit of their commitment to justice for the under served and ignored - my good friends at Jugglers Art Space will be hosting the SIEV X exhibition from September 1. These paintings by Melbourne artist Kate Durham [wife of Barrister and refugee advocate Julian Burnside QC] tell the graphic and tragic story of the hundreds of refugees lost at sea on their way to Australia.

Sept 1st 103 Brunswick St Fortitude Valley 4006 www.jugglers.org.au

No wonder Mel's on the drink.

When i was a girl, the internet was called a library ..a Gen X Parent's Guide to Kids Today.

My partner bought an old dial telephone at a garage sale this weekend, and my 10 year daughter was puzzled to know how it worked. My daughter and I got talking about what it was like as a Gen X kid growing up and what shows we watched on TV and i kinda explained it like this:


Gen Z ............................Gen X Equivalent

Smallville ..............Greatest American Hero
Australian Idol .........Young Talent Time
CSI...................... Magnum P.I.
Ghost Whisperer ......The Ghost and Mrs Muir
Marilyn Manson.........Alice Cooper
X-box ...................Atari
The internet ...........Libraries
SMS texting ............Passing notes
Emails...................Letters
Gameboys..............Yo-yo's
Techno..................Disco
Sudoku..................Rubik's Cube
Home IceCream.......The Milkman
The war on Terror....The Cold War
Aiden Ridgeway.......Neville Bonner
Cathy Freeman........Evonne Cawley
Dr Karl..................Prof Julius Sumner Miller
THe Footy Show......Benny Hill Show
Steve Irwin............Harry Butler
The Chaser.............Norman Gunston
Mythbusters ...........The Curiosity Show
Big Brother.............We just went outside and got a life.

...and some readers suggestions..(see comments below)

Jamie Oliver...............Peter Russell Clarke
Ronald Reagan............ George W Bush
John Howard ............. John Howard
Israel invades Lebanon ... Israel invades Lebanon

Capricornian gothic

Ahh Rockhampton, town of my youth.
Beef Cattle Capital of Australia, my suburban gothic obsession began with you. The town where the local serial killer mistakenly confessed to the murder of a teenager who had actually just been hiding out in her boyfriends bedroom for four years.
Where i actually felt safer with my friends brother who spent time in jail for attempted murder, than with one of his Prison guards who sexually assaulted me as 14 yo. dropping me home from youth group.

I spent a long time hating the place and left at 16 to go to Uni, but now, many years later, find myself strangley affectionate to this cattle mad town. I even collect, and paint, bulls. Maybe its cathartic.

I found this catalogue for Fairy Springs Semen Catalogue at the Brahman Breeders Association last month. I should send it in to Rove. The transcipt inside is just as strange..trust me!

(oh...by the way Hi ya to the lovely Kirsten Livermore - Capricornia's Federal MP, big sister of my childhood best-friend, and former UQ Union Faculty Rep collegue circa 1991 ! Go girl.)
*note to trainspotters: Kirsten grew up in Mackay not Rockhampton. I actually spent my first 10 years in that beautiful town before the parents moved to Rock-vegas

If i put sex and gothic in the title do i get more hits? (Update: Yes)

Hmmm, we'll all know soon enough.

I went out to a strictly invite only party last night, and i swear i'm getting too old for this scene. There were people falling all over the floor, vomiting, screaming, crying and throwing stuff. There was a cop brought in to make sure nothing got out of hand and even he didnt blink and eye at the chaos, just stood at the entrance making sure the place wasn't crashed by outsiders. I must say its always lovely when the younger girls come up and say how much they adore my clothes but that definately is the last primary school dance i'm going to for a long while. ;)

Seriously its always interesting chatting with the parents who inevitably ask "what do you do?". I explore the dark shadows and undercurrents of suburbia through conceptual art can be a conversation killer, so i tend to say 'a bit of art, a bit of writing, and a bit of N.G.O. organisational development when i can't pay the bills'. Mmmm they tend to nod , thinking that at least explains the ecentric clothes and bright red hair, if nothing else.

And i smile and look at the gorgeous families before me and wonder what their secrets are, what do the mothers think about when they get those rare moments alone....when thoughts about the the mortgage and the soccer carpool subside....what are their dreams, their fears, and who do they think about when they are making love?

And part of me rails against the domesticity, and, yet i have profound respect for it at the same time. Because, at least for those of us who do think and struggle with the journey, its less of a cop out and more of a determined choice to hold a myriad of forces in tension.

And i think that can be, ironically, one of the most radical choices of all.

Divorce him or the Catholics get the dosh!

It saddens me to see the same-old-same-old going on generation after generation. I was going to say that just for once, i'd like to be surprised by human nature, but fortunately there are always glimmers of hope and beauty to be found...they just dont usually make news headlines. I've mentioned this before but I keep coming back to the Truth and Reconciliation process as an inspiring example of what is possible.

I also take heart in the elder statesmen and women of the world - Mikael Gorbachev, Jimmy Carter, Malcolm Fraser, the ancient King Solomon, people who have been there, seen it all and now have a deep wisdom and insight perhaps unachievable without at least six decades under your belt.

Here's to Paradigm shifts.

(Holy) Kissing and Making up...Everybody's doing it

Methodists and Catholics have (holy) kissed and made up 500 yrs after renegade Monk Martin Luther spat the dummy at the corrupt practices florishing in Catholicism and launched one of last milleniums more spectacular success stories - Protestantism (right up there with the WWW and sliced bread).

Concerned with what he saw as spiritual manipulation of the masses for political and material gain, his 95 theses was the penultimate theological 'whilstleblow' which is still hard top - even in this age of mass media and the tele-evangelist.

Hats off to the Wittenberg Door - to the real one made of wood and its online namesake still calling out shonky religious leaders today and bringing us gems such as the Gospel according to Napoleon Dynamite

Now, if we can just get the Jews and and the Palestinians together......

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Can anyone tell me why some men cant seem to keep their hands, and their bombs, to themselves?

Oh, puh-lease.

German Chanceller Angela Merkel looks decidely uncomfortable after Bush rests his hands on her shoulders and 'massages' them a few times during the G8 summit (CLick this link for one of the funniest critiques of this man and this incident).

Who on Earth does this man think he is? Surely the time when powerful men thought they had the right to touch women's bodies at will passed away last Millenium? Apparently not. Seriously, dO you think he would have tried this out on Gerhard Schroder, or even little Johnny Howard ? What an appalling lapse of judgement that belies the delusional role he thinks he occupies.

EARTH TO GEORGE W : THIS IS THE G8 SUMMIT NOT THE BIG BROTHER HOUSE

A few pics from the album.

Fynn and I at a friends wedding last month, and me circa 1994 in traditional Papua New Guinean Dress whilst working with a Volunteer organsition in PNG....and the beach in Mackay where i grew up in the 70's...now with my children.

A new poligoth pic i made of Bush ravishing an innocent...at www.poligoths.blogspot.com

the pervasive influence of pre-millenialist 'christian zionism' on US Policy

SOme of you wont have a clue what i'm taking about, but having been raised fundamentalist baptist in a provincial town, at least i understand the mind set that pervades large swathes of Amercia, and extends its influence, arguably, right to the top of the US administration via a few influencial Neo-conservatives.

Australian's would do well to aquaint them selves with these views to understand why support for Israel runs deep, not only in the Jewish community but accross (some of ) Christian America.
REference: "Standing with Israel: Why Christians support the Jewish State" published in Jewish Journal Israel Hasbara Committee

Be assured George Bush knows of this brand of theology well, as a large part of the Republican constituency hold to these views. Accordong to polls by CNN and Time while only 36% of Americans believe the Bible is the Word of God, 59% of Americans believe the prophecies predicted in the Book of Revelation wlil came to pass. Furthermore, more than a third of Americans who support Israel belive that the Jews must possess their own land in the Middle East before the Second Coming of Christ can occur.

Google search Christian Zionism, Pre-millenialism, fundamentalism, eschatology and 'signs of the second coming' or a few of the articles here, and here.

There's even a Daily Rapture Index !!

DOnt be lulled into the false assumption that all poeple who attempt to follow the teachings of Christ are Rabid Neo-cons 'heaven-bent' on war in the Middle East. Just note that a few of the Problematic ones, and a lot of the uneducated one are.

its the end of the world as we know it

well...actually, its a bit more like a continuation of the world as per usual unfortunately.

The whole intractable middle Eastern thing is overwhelmingly depressing whichever way you look at it. Perhaps the worst aspect, is the way it solidifies stereotypes in people's minds, and any pre-conceived ideas one holds will only find further justification in the current circumstances.

Its a terribly multi-faceted issue, and I dont presume to know whats the way forward.
The killing of children and civilians is abhorent. I feel like weeping when i see an anguished father pouring over the body of his 5 yr old son. There is no excuse for this murder.

However this current conflict reminds me of children who have tormented the neighbours pitbull with sticks and stones, and wonder why it mauls them when they steal its food.

Problem is, its not just those kids who get hurt, but anyone who crosses its path.

I am utterly disgusted by the escalating levels of violence directed at Lebanon and agree with Putin in calling it 'disportionate'.

I also fail to understand how Howard and Bush, who both align themselves as Christians, cant seem to distinguish the Old Testament from the New Testament.

Just for once i would like to hear someone, anyone, in leadership apply the Christian concept of grace, so beautifully demonstated by former Archbishop Desmond Tutu through South Africa's Truth and Reconcilliation Process. Desmond and others like you...the world needs you. Now.

Papua New Guinea

OK..so this is completely off theme..but do allow me this indulgence.
A couple of pics from 1994 when my partner and I worked in the Western Province of PNG with a development NGO. A former student from th elocal High School has been staying with us these last few weeks. He has named his first born son Stark - an absolute honour to say the least.

Nick Cave & Gothic Christianity

I've always been interested in religion, and the gothic in society. Came across this article during a recent Google journey -A facinating article about a goth icon by Stewart Lee written in 2003. YOu can read the full article at his site here

Cave’s Christianity is perhaps the most shocking thing about his recent history. His lecture The Flesh Made Word enraged a vocal minority of the audience during its 1997 Edinburgh Fringe performance, but rationalist fans could then at least excuse Cave’s God as a metaphor for the creative process. “God is a product of the creative imagination,” he wrote, “and God is that imagination taken flight.” But today the author of the introduction to the Canongate edition of St Mark’s Gospel is unequivocal. “I do accept Christ’s divinity. More and more so actually. But I don’t think a person truly believes unless they doubt as well. My faith kind of swells up and subsides. It’s going through a swelling up at the moment

Get thee to a Nunnery

Bet the guys embroiled in Big Brothers 'sexual assault' scandal wish they had joined the ABC's proposed new Reality program the Abbey - a 33 day stint in a Nunnery - instead of the place they find themselves now.

To read what ABC online readers think of the fiasco visit: http://www.abc.net.au/news/arts/theshallowend/200607/s1677415.htm

While i'm sure the guys had no malicious intent with the groin incident, it was a serious and completely unacceptable lapse in judgement and the context in which it occured throws up a myriad of issues to do with personal, legal and commercial boundaries surrounding the program.

Should all this still not serve as a warning about the evils of reality tv, than perhaps you may like to apply to join The Abbey: ABC TV is looking for five women for a new 3 part series. Take up the challenge to live the life of a contemplative nun for 33 days and nights - one day for every year of Christ's life.
You will leave behind the hurly-burly of modern life to embark upon a search for meaning, spirituality and self behind the walls of an enclosed order.
Immerse yourself in the world of The Abbey and live by The Rule of Silence and Obedience. Learn what the spirit of community living is all about as you share the nuns daily routine of prayer, farm work, craft and domestic tasks. Throughout the challenge of living in this other world, you will have a Sister-mentor to listen, support and guide you. Will this life hold any relevance to you as a contemporary Australian woman? Will spiritual contemplation and prayer have the power to transform your life or will you find it too hard a cross to bear?
Interested? Find out how to apply

Applications close July 7th.

( had i not already sent myself off to a Nunery for a 3 day silent solitary retreat back in 2002, I'd be tempted to apply now...and yes , it was worth it.).

The Psychedelic Furs and the Far Northern Tropics

I am currently in Cairns. Though its winter, the sunlight is so all pervasive and warm its easy to assume everything is all sunshine and light. Scratch a little deeper though, and Cairns is one of those places where most people have a 'past' or an intriguing story at very least. Makes things more interesting than would otherwise appear.... people used to change and transition, running from, running to, seeking and hoping for new futures. Our 7 years here were some of the most turbulent but intoxicating years of our lives. I miss it so many ways but it was the right time to go in 2001.

Just a few hours before i drove up here...i caught the Psychedelic Furs at the Tivoli Brisbane with a gorgeous writer friend Shelley Kulperger. Shelley's good friend Stephen Carlton has written a play that explores concepts of north Queensland Gothic thats playing in brisbane on July 14 i think. I'll post more details later (read:when i can find them)

Oh, did i mention that Richard Butler looks a lot like Hugh Grant crossed with David Bowie these days? Delicious.

Hot Topics in Social Justice - Julie Macrossan lecture

The social work Alumni lunch at Lennons was an interesting event.
I've always liked Julie Macrossan, who won me over whilst co-hosting Life Matters with Geradine Dougue on Radio national each weekday morning. Alas they have both left the program since, but i was lucky enough to hear her speak this week in Brisbane.

Julie was asked to speak on "Hot Topics in Socal Justice". Lots of juicy and, by definition, complex topics that could be spoken about under this banner. Julie did choose however, an issue that she described as "making the sky weep and the blood come from the stones"; the issue of alcohol abuse in indigenous communities (and making me think of my 'Uluru Bleeding' post last month.)

For a brief moment a few weeks ago Australia's media swarmed on this issue...prompted by the comments of Nanette Rodgers and Indigenous Affairs Minister Mal Brough.

Julie explored this issue, citing the influence on alcohol in traditional communities and referring to the ideas of Aboriginal leaders such as Noel Pearson and his speech " THe Human Right to misery, mass incarceration and early death" delivered as part of the the Charles Perkins Oration in 2001.

Whilst she was careful to warn of seeking simple answers to complex truths, one particulalry strong point she made was her conviction that alcohol was not merely a symptom but rather the cause of so much of the suffering being experienced today. Poignantly she drew a comparision to William Hogarth's 1751 etching " Gin Lane" and the impact of alcohol on the new working class, and how this affected the English working class families of the time... a visual analogy that i found intriguing.

There was no other way forward, she argued, than to accept we are in a post-colonial environment and need to work with the realities in front of us. This means ensuring basic needs such as safety and protection of children, providing support to aboriginal parents, assistance with nutrition (or at its most basic mere provision of food) , education, care and meaningful work.

To achieve this Julie stated we need to strongly affirm and support Aboriginal leaders such as Pearson, provide scholarships and encouragement for outstanding aboriginal leaders and students and further encourage the involvement of organsiations such as the Fred Hollows Foundation, and International Aid agencies to assist where necessary to provide impoverished Aboriginal communities with access to basic human rights and dignity, and a future worth living.

In a room full of social workers it was quite sobering (pardon the pun) to hear such a strong straight forward message devoid of the shackles of political correctness.
Comments anyone?

I'm going to hear Julie Macrosson speak today on Current issues in Social Justice at a Luncheon for the UQ Social Work Alumni. Will report back tonight. Its soo cold here in my house it will be a miracle if i manage to thaw out and catch a bus before 11am.

Poli-Goths - putting the goth back into Politics

I've just created my second blog this week..Poligoths - putting the gothic back into Politics. It's absolutely silly, but addictive and has been consuming my mind for a week. Take a peek for those wanting something a little lighter than these existential ramblings!.

THis week i'm featuring Tony Abbott as Edward Scissorhands, Kim Beasley as Wolverine, Paul Keating as Marilyn manson (scary, that one) , John 'Munster' Howard and American Condoleezza Rice. Oh and Andrew Bartlett as himself!!!

Let me know what you think.

poetry....existential ramblings

standing in the corner with the prophets and the losers
things seemed a little clearer over there
but i'm back here in the middle just like everybody chooses
forsaking truth without a fucking care

and the centre holds no answers to the questions no-one asks
but its music and its colours fill my head
and i'm dancing with the children of the pleasant and the chosen
and we'll feast on cake and laugh until we're dead.

tanja stark 2000

Containment - notes from an exhibition circa 2002

For those who missed this exhibition,(which will be most of you i guess..) Containment explores a lot of the suburban gothic stuff i was thinking of at the time. Lots of post social work catharsis, Jungian shadow imagery and generous lashings of my own neurosis. :)

Notes from the exhibition:
Containment is a body of work that explores the dichotomy between the external and internal world and is concerned with the hidden parts of the human condition.

The installations in containment are constructed from everyday media including raw paper bags, wire, feathers, bowls and paper, yet where burn explored the nature of pain and scarring through the tangible physicality of the mutilated surface, these works push beyond, into the interior, and the internal state of confinement, repression and restraint.

The obsession with the visceral is played out through recurring images; a kitchen knife, a colt revolver, an antique padlock, crows talons, singular feathers and sets of wings; and imbue the installations with suggestions of sexuality, spirituality, and perhaps even a latent, pervasive aggression.

Jewellery

For those who may be interested I've got a small range of jewellery featuring religious icons. Branded "suburban gothic' (surprise surprise), you can get these at Westside Tattoo in Boundary st West End Brisbane, or you can order them online at Redshift Clothing - a devine online goth, punk emo clothing and accessories store selling Heavy Rd, Lip Service, Tripp etc. Or email me and i'll send them to you direct!!!

Earrings are $19 Aust Dollars. (they make brilliant presents as they are so unique and easy and cheap to post! What are you waiting for x tanja )

David Bowie Matryoshka Doll - Suburban Gothic Kitsch

I think these are my absolute favourite thing in my house - my David Bowie Russian Matryoshka dolls ..suburban gothic kitsch at its best.
I painted these over several months, and for those of you who aren't familiar with the images, these are the covers of Iconic Bowie albums including Alladin Sane, Low (my favourite doll - the orange one), Young Americans, Ziggy Stardust and Diamond Dogs.

The Suburban Madonna

A strangely haunting photo that has been popping up on the web lately.
Currently being used by permission at DVConnect Domestic & Family Violence service in Queensland and also at www.dany-angelcage.blogspot.com
this is the larger image taken by my partner Fynn Stark.

image: the suburban madonna, stark, 1996
(full size image available. just drop me a line)

Uluru Bleeding

Reflections on the tragedy at Australia's heart ABC Australia- Culture of Violence Revealed in Central Australia
As an artist interested in exploring notions of Australian Gothic this story reveals a deep necrotic wound we as a nation have been scared to touch, terrified of doing more harm, torn by guilt over our complicity in its creation.

To understand the depth of grief, my western gothic mind conjures up images of a traditional aboriginal woman cast as a Holy Mother holding in her hands a fleshly uluru dripping with blood; shards of glass from broken bottles a vicious crown of thorns.

Only one thing is sure. The healing will be complex, controversial with no guarantee of success. As the wise know, the most important factor in healing a wound lies not in the strength of the medicines or the skill of the doctors, but the bodies own capacity to rally its own defences and inherent strength to fight against the toxicity and affect its own healing.

That healing and recovery will involve pain is a given. The daily cleaning and dressing of the skin grafts of burns victims is excruciating, the painful physical therapy of an spinal patient the only path to restoring function.

But to do nothing will ensure only further suffering, continued rotting and the eventual death of spirit in entire communities of australia's first people.

Notes from 'Burn' A series of work exhibited 2002 Soapbax Gallery Brisbane

corpus christi

The central image of the series is the poignant sculptural image 'Corpus Christi', a winged Christ crucified upon an electric stove coil, exhibited individually and also as a component of the larger 'element' installation.

Exuding an almost archetypal quality the piece simultaneously references traditional spiritual iconography and 1950's suburban kitsch; at once both reverent and ironic. In the re-configuration of the familiar domestic object as an instrument of torture this work alludes to the sinister undercurrents of suburban existence.

The hand made wings of 'corpus christi' are made from the collected feathers of battery hens; nature imprisoned to feed human demand. Intriguingly the representation of Winged Christ strongly alludes to a despondent Icarus, of Greek legend. The plastic sheen on the synthetic christ figure exudes a wax like quality, reinforcing the mythic association. This intersection of icons has interesting implications. Icarus' ascension was sabotaged by the pursuit of his will in direct disobedience to his father's wisdom, whilst the crucifixion of Christ is seen as the culmination of pursuing the will of 'the father' at the expense of the self, predicating his 'perfect' ascension. Has Icarus been been grounded by wings created from the subordination of nature? Aesthetically the physical interplay between the plastic, metal and organic media mirrors the conceptual balance of the piece.

flesh
In flesh jagged pieces of paperbark branded with text line the wall like nameless patients in a hospital ward, encompassing the viewer with words such as weep, crust, maim, scrape, welt, scab, graft, sear and bleed.

Part way through the process of creating this work (flesh) my father sustained serious full thickness burns to much of his body during an epileptic seizure. This macabre, synchronistic experience of watching the weeping, blistering, dying skin of my father profoundly affected my vision. The inherent characteristics of paperbark, with its subtle variations in colour and texture has an uncanny parallel to the layers of human skin and it was this accident that saw my work evolve from one of pure metaphor to one infused with concern for texture and surface, form and tangibility. Rather than pure symbolism, my concept deepened as I became absorbed with the tangible physicality of wounded flesh and the scars that remain.

torso A line of brown paper bags each bearing the charred form of an electric stove element is a potent symbolic image directly referencing the child held down upon the hotplate. In this work the black charcoal marks are not additions, but have eaten into the original surface, leaving the blackened paper weakened and maimed.

The multiplicity of these simple images adds an almost ritual-like element that was especially apparent in the process of creating the work.The use of paper bags in my work functions as a metaphor for the torso and connotes the body as a vessel; the dialectic of concealment/exposure; outwardly uniform, but with a hidden interior. Occasionally some of the interiors contain shreds of case notes gleaned from my professional work while others bear small candles, which flicker inside.

The fragility and volatility of the media is deliberate, the real possibility of the works being consumed by the fire contained, a deliberate tension

.

So here I start my blog. Again. Completely forgot the previous incarnation of several years back, so i guess a recap is in order. It seems a logical as any to begin with some previous exhibitions and work my way back to the future.

www.suburbangothic.com
Burn - an overview of works

Burn explores the physical and metaphorical nature of pain and scarring in images created by the branding, burning and marking of surfaces by heat fire or charcoal. Pared back to its essential elements the gentle simplicity of the images belies the inherently complex and uncomfortable content of the exhibition.

Comprised of works in sculpture, installation, photography, and drawing, the large series of work makes repeated reference to the themes of destruction, abuse, consumption, sacrifice and redemption in the context of the body and the spirit, manifested through domestic media.

My initial concept began as a sort of cathartic expression of trauma. One of the most difficult images I have seen were medical photographs of an infant that had been held down upon an electric stove element, shown to me whilst studying social work. Burnt into the tender skin of the child's back was the unmistakable spiral 'coil' of an electric hotplate - the child was so small the wound covered much of her back.

It is from this point that I became obsessed with burns, and the imagery and form of the coil with its inherently cryptic swirl. It was as if each black spiral carried with it an aura of its potential energy and a mysterious history of heat. The familiar domestic object with a sinister undercurrent. The coil motif evolved into a metaphor for isolation, alienation and abandonment…the works bearing scars of a fractured and isolated suburban existence; where darkness lurks painfully close to surface..