Archive for ‘Art’

June 26, 2011

Bog People, Bog People

a rather tragic amount of time has passed since my last real entry – mostly because i was incredibly uninspired, tired of school, and just tired in general.  but as i was sitting on the ‘gin couch’ watching josie and the pussycats yesterday, i felt the urge to reach out and pick mbls again.

i’ve finally felt some redundant relevance here in the bog [since the xx post i have graduated university, written and published 4 zines, collaborated on 2 more, joined a yarnbombing collective and proceeded to move out of montreal! phew!], this relevance due mostly to my diabolically theological leanings and intrinsically synchretic lifestyle.

the creative process is a ficklefuck of a pickle, but i’ve finally reached a point where i can map out my methods on a solar and lunar calendar.  those who know me know what i’m talking about when i say ‘holy shit sponge mode’.  the most recent sponge has been combining my many sources of herbal, planetary, and colour correspondences into one mostly gender and intention neutral volume.  FUN !  but i love my lore and superstitions and symbols and they deserve to be all together.

this is straying widely from my original intention, but my notes are pretty scattered tbh especially since i am now listening to traditional appalachian music so i’m never really ~here~, i have always been and always will be a bizarre oddity smattering the fringe theories of life, the universe and everything and like to think i have a slight grasp on the nature of pop culture and the relationships held in this circle.

for most of modernity’s mythologies now take place in light boxes which make one believe one is socializing while physically remaining in solitude.  there’s a story about a person, taking the role of the ‘hero’, who attempts to play the role of the outsider.  gains status of the inner circle, becomes disillusioned, and flees, or rather reverts to their former state.  one is either in or out.  happy mediums don’t exist in entertainment, but somehow the weirdo will prevail in all this.  the weirdo wins in cinematic experience, but something is lost in translation. 

our lives are not walking commercials no matter how often we might be told this.  while many creative people do have to market themselves as a brand in order to reach their own level of success [infinite variable], it is considered ‘dirty’ because art must be noble and perfect and float about the material world while offering the world material objects.  i am stuck on this point.  i have become more sensitive and aware to the placement and role of advertisements now that i watch most of my beloved reality tv on the computer, where i can close any popups and not have my daisy of love interrupted by 3 minutes of wonkwonkwonk for every 5 minutes of showtime.  these things are important to me – the changing  role of hero worship dependent on progressive technologies should not i repeat not be spoiled.  i will be a better person by observing psychologically behaviour in realtime, not by spending $10 on the most technologically advanced oral health system.

so why is it so effective?  teenagers are surely not as empty and vapid as Big Money wants them to be.  they are the last bastion of rebellion.  if i can connect with a group of 13 year old boys when i’m ‘bombing, and they can see the value in my work [as valueless as it really is, these kinds of groups are my target audience] then i know i have succeeded in someway.  there’s no subliminal messaging, there’s no fooling these monsters.  we’ve lived every minute of our lives having been forced perfect life images upon us and yet no one lives this way.  there’s a realization that no one knows what they’re doing AND ITS OKAY. 

what’s not ok is having a place of constant one way dialogue.  when defacing advertisements in public places, the defense is always for the ad.  here we have a culture where pieces of paper and plastic have more rights and are valued more than the citizens who habit it! 

so.  what do we do?  these bogs aren’t big enough for us all.  the conversation is old, but there’s no resolution readily available, other than ‘know thyself’.  stop victimizing yourself and take a risk on a homemade venture.  i’ll pick up the ‘like art, god is a verb’ some other time.  how do i still miss america after all this?

June 25, 2011



March 4, 2011

smiles all around

we’ve made it.

through february.

[an excerpt from elisabeth belliveau‘s wonderful book, ‘the great hopeful someday’]

miss belliveau has been at the forefront of the great inspirators of the ilhu industries ever since i picked up this book some years ago. some people turn to the bible or to that girl who write the harry potters [what’s her name?  doesn’t matter] for spiritual guidance and everything that is down and needing a great uplifting – well, i’ve been using TGHS as this type of guide ever since i laid my filthy paws all over it. [no seriously the once immaculate white cover shows the marked wear of a graphite abuser].

and recently a dear _r gave me her then newest book ‘don’t get lonely don’t get lost’ for x-mass and i just about wet myself.

don't get lonely don't get lost

i am constantly haunted by her writing – the story of being mugged in london has stayed with me ever since the night i cracked it open.


you get the idea.  i essentially covet e’s work and often find myself melding life scenes together in her line drawing style.


i am so so pleased to see that she will be showing her work at MONASTIRAKI [get there!]

opening tonight!

oh! can you just ~feel~ my excitement oozing out of your screen??

and if anyone has $500 kicking around, my love is once again officially for sale.

February 28, 2011

i could tell you about the river or we could just get in




a text-based group show presented by art matters and les territoires

anxious about tomorrow’s installation, putting the finishing touches on my HIVE MIND piece.  i’ll also be showing my massive crocheted panel and TO THE FUCKING BONE.


opening is thursday!  be there!

Les Territoires
Belgo, suite 527
372 Sainte-Catherine street West
Montreal (Quebec)

February 23, 2011

Beauty #0

father pentacles

son pentacles

mother pentacles

10 cups


it all comes down to the strange fact that i am 2 days behind and 1 day ahead of myself.




February 19, 2011

Viscera Sky Highs

09 pentacles

09 swords

xix sun

xxi universe


i hear it’s spring break / reading week / etc


  • 4 cards / day
  • finish HIVE MIND
  • polish up GO
  • find a way to make TTFB look good and not fall apart
  • finish the quilt you started 4 years ago
  • finish the quilt you started yesterday
  • research paper
  • write paper



February 19, 2011

be // twee // n the // heatha // mphetamines

ix hermit

ace wands

daughter pentacles

xx judgement

ace pentacles


the dremes are coming on fast and thick – i cannot write them down quick enough.  slippery rock and architecture carved into the landscape is prevalent.


dried rose stems make for love spell wands.

i work badly collectively.

puncturing through tissue and equipping others for my filth.

brain’s on another wavelength as a :: a novel would have it.

more heathamphetamines, please.

February 16, 2011

i would die 4 U

03 swords

09 wands

xvii moon

evil moon / riki-kun

spent the better part of the day attempting to rescue the 3 of swords from a background disaster, and there’s not much i can do about it now, other than re-draw the entire card but i somehow refuse to do that today.

after a night of PURPLE RAIN, i return home and found these in my postal.


i am so infinitely pleased with them i went so far as to transform my very favourite textile into a tiny pouch for them.
violet fabric

i’ve been carrying around this tiny scrap of fabric – measuring at most 15×15 cm – for about 10 years.  salvaged from my mother’s scrap bin [she must have made a shirt from it many years ago, i unfortunately don’t remember].  i have never been able to find a textile quite like this again, so i knew it was special.  so sacred, the sacrifice to cut and sew this tiny little thing was frustrating.  it isn’t even large enough for a proper drawstring.  enough of that – i least i finally own something worthy of immortailizing violets on a black abyss.

February 15, 2011

Valentinian // Anadoxia

04 swords

08 pentacles

09 cups

xv baphomet

07 wands

05 cups

03 pentacles


between the tennesee tennis knee and a hilarious bout of the trembling bunnies, i somehow managed to draw 4 cards today, including our dearest BAPHOMET on this valentine’s day.

instead of boring you with my processes, i’m going to bore you with a dream i had last night.

i’m the eldest daughter of a nomadic tribe led by michael gira.  my name is oksana, as the eldest daughter of every tribe must be named oksana as every CHILD must be born in oksana, north dakota.  my family tribe travels around the world hanging signs – the huge ones that you see on the sides of highways and such.  at one part i am separated from my family while soliciting for people to advertise with us.  michael gira’s voice is ringing through my head YOU ARE OKSANA THE DAUGHTER OF DOXA.  REMEMBER WHO YOU ARE, REMEMBER THE ANADOXIA.  i am climbing up these very beautiful houses, white and silver and they are carved into cliffs, with very dark green coniferous trees gorwing out of them and forming other houses.  i am lost and i have lost my younger sisters and brothers that michael gira has trusted me with.  i am walking up and down and up and down these slippery wet white rock cliffs trying to get back to ‘the car’ but there are all these very old ladies dressed in crazy colours and piles of gold jewelry and i am all in black because i am ‘oksana’ and i must never forget.  i am now walking up this very cold snowy mountain holding a huuuge cloroplast sign and i can see my tribe at the top.  the sign is very unwieldy and am holding on very tight but the wind is blowing it up like a sail.  i finally reach the top after what feels like hours and my tribe climbs onto the sign and slides all the way down the mountain i just climbed and we do this like 5 times.

February 12, 2011

6 // 6 // 6

06 wands

06 swords

06 cups


i want to go there with you.

i’ve been pulling a lot of 6s lately, so it was only fitting to have today’s contribution be the 666 kind – an homage to the only 666 beast i know [crowley, of course – the man with the plan]

while i’ve really loved sketching and planning each composition, the backgrounds are the most time consuming and detract from the image.  granted, i haven’t pulled a major arcana in a few days so i’ve only been thinking in minor and trying to play them up a little, maybe too much?


victory of science happiness.  today’s reading was weird – calling for both victory and surrender.  for the most part, it never plays in my favour, so it will be interesting to see how the rest of this evening pans out…