My relationship with Luke Robins would be seen as trivial especially in the eyes to anyone close to him, but the short time we talked has made a completely indescribable and incredibly profound impact on a small part of my life.
I first downloaded the iPhone App Grindr about 9 months ago in an infatuation of curiosity. To my shock horror it became a place where I could wait for someone to find out about me, or vise versa to discover new people for [in my case] intellectual or humorous conversation, rather than just NOODZ and quickies.
Grindr was somewhere I would often relieve my problems, ideas and thought, the good and the bad. Luke was someone I first met on the app and he became a person who I often talked too. After a long day, I might just sit down in my lounge room and unwind with Luke and he the same. We had an amazing relationship, one that there was no hate, lying or conformity. One where we didn’t care if one or the other did or din’t replied or said something we didn’t want to hear. And although we never met, or even added each other on facebook (the basic fundamental of nearly so many acquaintances) I will miss that short time we knew each other all those months ago.
What happened to you last night was one of the most horrible and inhumane things I can possibly imagine. When I first heard about your death I did not know how I could possibly cope catching a bus from that bus shelter ever again, but I know sooner or later down the track every time I’m waiting there for a bus I will remember the great people out there like you and the kindness in peoples’ hearts.
Thank you so much Luke, your existence and mind has not been wasted, many many people I’m sure especially the ones who knew you better will miss you dearly. I hope where ever you are now you’re happy.
I fucking hate all Mona Lisa renditions. Oh wow you’re so fucking ironic.
I’m sorry to be a bitchy cunt, but this issue needs to be addressed now.
The first thing I was ever told in year 7 art class was “Huw!! Stay away from parodying the Mona fucking Lisa, it’s been done to death!”. While some would say “Oh who cares? Do what you like, it doesn’t matter what an art teacher tells you, art is art”, I would not agree with “some” on this matter! I happen to quite strongly and firmly agree with my first art teacher Rodney Grant.
There is nothing remotely innovative or original in extraditing ideas out of this fantastic artwork anymore, no matter how witty or intelligent the approach is. It’s become a symbol of lost meaning and “hilarious” ironic disposition. I love the original and Duchamp’s version. But enough’s enough, there are other things to do around here.
It was the loneliest day of my life,
You’re talking at me, but I’m still far away
One of the best video installations I’ve ever seen.
The Clock is an art installation by video artist Christian Marclay (born 1955). It is in effect a clock, but it is made of a 24-hour montage of thousands of time-related scenes from movies and some TV shows, meticulously edited to be shown in “real time”: each scene contains an indication of time (for instance, a timepiece, or a piece of dialogue) that is synchronized to show the actual time. The Clock debuted at London’s White Cube gallery in 2010.
The Clock has been sold to several art museums.
Today I shared an umbrella with a boy
Early this night I caught a bus home. We [the passengers] were stuck to one another, and pressed onto the surrounding walls inside the bus. Unlike some I rather enjoy a crowded bus or train whilst listening to good music (especially on a rainy night)
Upon arrival to my stop I very appropriately, listening to ‘Oxford Comma’ by Vampire Weekend, burst out the bus doors and as always when in a deep musical trance I danced in my walk.
The pure happiness and enlightenment attained from my playlist diminished as the rain became heavier. Whilst annoyed about becoming drenched, I was much more preoccupied about keeping my art diary dry. I grabbed my umbrella and tried opening it but to my great misfortune the entire handle fell off. “FUCK. FUCK.”
THIS was the point when, I, the damsel in distress was saved by my knight in shining armour. A boy around my age, perhaps slightly older, had run over to me and offered if I’d like to share his umbrella. He was just so beautiful (cute, pretty, simple, neat and the most kissable smile), it nearly killed me on the spot. Of course my reply was “sgsxcfxgftvcgsgxy… YES!”
He walked me to the traffic crossing, as we stood silently there was an awkwardness but it was an awkwardness of adrenaline and eye fucking. We crossed the road in silence too, but I could see him smiling which made me smile too.
I told him which way I was going, unfortunately he was off in the other direction.
I’M SUCH A STUPID FUCK, all I did was then thank him and leave… I was way too over my head and giddy to even think about giving my number or asking his name.
What could have happened, could only have happened. He or she who hesitates is lost.