Hell's [Jingle] Bells

 2020 has been a rough year for the arts and entertainers. Albums delayed, tours put on hold, and we even lost a few to COVID-19, alas.

But amidst that bad news, some good. Albums have been worked on, musicians have still collaborated, new compositions created, and old projects dusted off. Case in point: AC/DC's new album Power Up, the second since the death of Malcolm Young. It's good - great, even - and something of a miracle in the circumstances; but this isn't a post about that album. Let's go back further.

Come with me to a time where the mullet was giving way to the all-round longhair of new metal and grunge, to AC/DC still at their second peak and the era of one of their greatest songs 'Thunderstruck'. It is 1990, and I am flatting and have my own band. I begrudgingly appreciated 'Thunderstruck', and nearly a lifetime later would eventually sing it myself. But this isn't a post about that song. It's another song off the same album, The Razor's Edge. This is 'Mistress for Christmas'

Now, lyrically there's not a lot of Yuletide marking here. Possibly the song came about from the titular rhyme. There are Jingle Bells in the opening (and I've made my opinion on that song known already) and some guff about descending smokestacks later on, but hey - just enjoy the thing! That's what it's for.

And let's have no more talk of 2020. Cheery Mistress, to one and all! 

A Stack of Jacks

 Another Halloween, another carved pumpkin or two.

The pumpkin patch was a sorry thing this year, and the pumpkin ladder wasn't even put to use, so the ones here are shop jobs - a simply H-U-G-E one purchased for a birthday party on the same day by my sister-in-law, and a small buttercup squash for Jet Jr's use and design. Here they are:

Junior's brief was "like some of the stars in the sky", which is a noble endeavour. I, on the other hand, went for the minimalist approach, somewhat fearful of the enormous fruit and its elephantine hide. It's based on an oval; the non-pith part must have been 4cm thick. Oof!

A Pallet Bench*

 

Lo - another microproject embarked upon! And this one was finished!

This used to be a pallet, and now it's a seat. I did it all myself and I can't tell you how satisfying it was to turn a pile of scrap wood in not-entirely a great condition, into something that looked and felt rather nice to sit upon, and is now weathering away in the back garden. I made that! And all I needed to buy was enough screws to put it all together, and some wood stain to finish it off.  I think my hand saws are rather blunt now, though - but it got me using a circular saw given to me by the father-in-law too many years ago. He was pleased about that. 

It was slow work - I listened to a lot of podcasts all the while as I measured twice, cut once, and swore several times before taking the odd left turn to remedy some blunders. But there weren't many, and it was a lockdown project ticked off. Well done, me!

Plans were based on this one here (with some adaptation and NZ measuring), for those of you who wish to play at home. 

I think the next thing will be a different kind of bench - either a work one or a weights one. And, glancing at the back yard again - I can see a planter that might need replacing soon...

(*It's a legal joke. Yeah, and a bad one)

Comic Scene

 In all my life I've never wanted NOT to be part of a scene. My curriculum vitae is in part a lie. Of course I can work alone unsupervised; but it's in a group that I thrive. Put me on the team, coach!

We are social animals, most of us. Genesis 2:18 and all that. Music, theatre, tabletop gaming, scouts, bands, filmmaking. Working collaboratively increases my creativity, and so it was with me and the short-lived Dunedin Comics Collective, among whose number I counted myself from roughly 1994 to 1997, two or three anthologies, and a challenging but very fun one-day mass draw-in at a local café for... was it a charity thing? I don't remember.

Here's a picture of the majority of us - mostly male, not entirely all Pakeha, and with a range of experience and ages. I was probably somewhere in the lower middle age-wise, but older than the youngest I knew, a funny and surreal kid called Toki, to feel like I was something of a late starter. I was, of course. My comics life didn't really start until I was approaching my mid-twenties and towards the end of my first big music-making phase, and it was a pretty decent outlet, if not necessarily successful. I was among some very significant talents, and when the Dunedin crew linked arms with co-creatives from other university cities like Christchurch, Wellington and Auckland, it really felt - briefly - like we were part of a bigger thing. We found our name in local comics directories (a little pointlessly including mailing addresses - how many of us would stay in the one flat for more than a year)

But here we are, clutching our copies of Treacle, the local comic, proudly. In this one are my creations Libido and Mortido, probably in their last and most accomplished form. I've labelled this 1994, but I really don't know.  Toki's in there, somewhere, and the wonderful Fin, behind me at left rear is a guy whose name eludes me now, but whose path I would cross later on as a rival in a student film competition, which he and his cohort would win. Centre front, my old chum Guanoland, with whom I would make the film and who may recall more than I now. Out of shot, and probably taking the photo, our group leader and host for the day Tony Renouf, stalwart of the Dunedin small press scene and a man of great energy, enthusiasm and drive. I owe him a lot for getting me on my start. The downhill run to ... well, not much farther is all my work. I probably needed to stay in the group, to be honest.

Here's to you, guys, wherever you've been drawn to.

Let's Warp Again

 It's May the Forth, so Happy Star Warps day everyone! Here's a classic shot of Ken Benoble-one, Hank Solo and Luke Sandhater. May the Warps be with you, one and all!