llevenz

Archive for February, 2009|Monthly archive page

Good Morning

In Uncategorized on February 10, 2009 at 12:51 am

Spent last night putting vinyl sickers on the car which was a test of everyones nerves because of bubbles and wrinkles in the plastic.

This morning I appeared on Good Morning which from what I could see was similar to ‘This Morning’ in the UK.  For copyright reasons I’ve had to obscure the studio.

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It reminded me of being on Welsh TV except the staff looked healthier and had better teeth. In the green room I met two synchronised swimmer sisters who represented New Zealand at the Beijing Olympics. They were friendly and agreed to have their photograph taken with me. I asked if the nose clips they wore whilst submerged were painful. They said they could be sometimes but that they were necessary.  

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The hot studio lights meant the car refused to start so it suffered the ultimate indignity of being pushed out of the studio silently.

Whilst waiting at some traffic lights in Newtown we saw a man playing a tiny clarinet (piccolo clarinet) over a fence to some kids in a schoolyard. He seemed to be a real life pied piper. Fortunately he  didn’t lure the children away he just drove off with a friend.

Cave

In Uncategorized on February 8, 2009 at 12:16 am

On Tuesday I was on radio NZ talking about the project. They were friendly and asked all the right questions. The rugby sevens parade was going through town as I left the building. Half a band who were playing in a ute at the tail end of the proceediongs  almost fell out as the driver accelerated away when the parade started winding down. I’d love to see someone hit tatmac at speed whilst holding onto a bass guitar. A lot has been made of destroying instruments to get new sounds but how about destroying musicians to get new sounds. Bagsy the blowtorch.

I went looking for a cave near Breaker Bay on Wednesday. A man called Ross Collins sort of lived there for a few years. Here’s a link Caveman. It was near a nudist beach so I aproached from the other side as I was carrying a camera and didn’t want to be mistaken for a peeping tom.

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It was hot and the walk back was a sand in shoe in nightmare.

I’ve decided to cover my car with the names of all the bodies who’ve supported the project like a rally car or something similar. There’s a man near my village at home who has stickers with the names of the shock absorbers he uses on his car. I don’t think he has a sponsorship deal he just put them there himself.

I also bought some scorpion stickers to stick on the boot. Someone told me that was really ‘Bogan’ which I think is a good thing for the project.

On Thursday night I went with Chris to some bars to look for a location to paint. Half-way up  Cuba street we stopped to listen to an impromptu beatboxing session.

I’m in Napier in Hawke Bay this weekend. It’s an old Art Deco place which is pretty. The only problem is the words art and deco are written everywhere and referred to constantly. Art Deco laundry Art Deco pay and display. It remided me of the ridiciolous wind chime I once saw with the words ‘feng-shui’ written on it.Art Deco is like nougat for me – easy does it.

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Wairarapa

In Uncategorized on February 3, 2009 at 7:44 am

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Spent the weekend in the Wairarapa valley to the north of Wellington and it was too bloody hot for my liking. On Saturday I was having my first beer in a back garden in Featherstone, a town in the valley, when I heard an air raid siren. I’d never heard one before and suspected the very worst. Thankfully it was the local fire station’s call to arms. It was 35˚ and the risk of firse was heightened. The next day decided to go on to Martinborough a winemaking   on the way saw a Stonhenge replica on a farm and an abandoned house.

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That night I realised that my hands were peppered with sand fly bites. I drank some local Sauvignon Blanc to mask the itching. As I drifted off to sleep I tortured myself with the idea of being on my own in the abandoned house at 2am. The dream proper that followed was worse and revolved around a horrible orgy in an oast house where some people were writhing in manure and gagging as they rutted. I woke up the next morning hotfooted it to a phramacy to getsome antihitstamine.

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