Picture of the Day

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A picture speaks a thousand words, so instead of writing we can photo blog about our day. The possibilities are endless, it could be the couch or your breakfast.

No wonder photo bloggers begin looking for the unusual or even set the scene up themselves without admitting it. Everyday life doesn't exactly draw the crowds regularly unless you can find some interesting angles of your pet goldfish or office desk.

I was contemplating a photo library of stenciled graffiti, every store front, back alley or bin seems to hide another activist's masterpiece.
If we can't laugh at the state of world affairs, western super-powers or weird robots through these graffiti campaigns or vandalism, urban life is rather dull and austere.

The Brooklyn community of blogs features neighbourhood life in all its glory. A featured photo might be a woman in a large hat or children playing on the street with a small story behind it. They are all strangers but are bound by living in such close proximity to each other. Any blog Brooklyn-related is listed in links. Its like a Brooklyn tourism guide!

Photo-bloggers daily inspiration is posted for the world to see, all you have to do is look.

free, take one

Everyday the letterbox is filled with circulars and leaflets. They flood shelves in shops, the streets and the gutter.

Is it human instinct to take flyers pressed into your hand by a distributor instead of refusing. Fifty people can go by, each given literature they briefly scan. It is instantly crumbled and thrown in the bin or drops to the ground.

Is the prospect of a bargain more important than the planet?

Amazingly despite living in the digital age, we are still reliant on paper to spread messages. Maybe its because a physical item and not a jumping ad on a computer screen that we can scrawl away from or shut down with a click of a box.

Even when trays in stores are stacked with the latest catalogue, people would rather read the specials and then put it back or rest it on a shelf.
We are in a constant battle with paper, newspapers and general junk ourselves.

Spare a thought for the hopeless hoarders, every aspect of modern life mass produced including paper takes over every living space they ever had.

One of the festival films I saw was about people crazy about movies. It followed three, who spent their days rushing from one cinema to another in New York.

Their apartments were crammed full of albums, promotional movie material and memorabilia. One woman had to move out because she had filled her entire apartment despite warnings from her landlord.

Guess that is why paper is successful as an advertising medium, it is hard to throw things away. Clutter-free books and TV programmes are all the rage, but will they save us from our own rubbish dump in the car, home or at work?

disposable camera

Remember when 'Staple Magazine' hit the streets in the early 2000s?

As with all new magazines, it had a fresh look and its bill stickers were all over the city when first released, only to fade into the background within a year.

Each month the back page featured the developed film of a disposable camera that had been given to some up-and-comer or famous NZ face.
Over 24 shots, the person took photos of friends or places, even swimming underwater with the camera.

I've never really been a fan of disposable cameras but they serve their purpose, when a digital camera isn't around. There is something final about film, without the handy erase button.

After leaving my camera at home, I bought a disposable before I left Napier for Wellington.
Lack of zoom, its obvious boxy shape and manual winder reinforced its status as a mode of convenience.
The environmental aspect of their disposable status is rather disturbing, but its a novelty I rarely repeat.

Capturing images along the journey, I went photo-crazy in Wellington. I think it helped that the shops were closed and less people were on the streets.

I was glad to be able to snap a golden sunset or an building without over-examining the photo, it seemed more about the moment rather than the camera for once.

I'm looking forward to finishing off the film and getting them developed. I haven't got a clue what to expect.

Art Deco City

Its all palm trees and sunshine in the bay. They are also rather proud of their art deco architecture, which is stunning but almost like a time warp.

Shopping on a Saturday, I tried on hats at a art deco costume shop on sale.
Its quirky when its just dress-up but I've heard they go all out on Art Deco Weekend.

It was Kelt Capital Spring Carnival weekend- the ultimate racing event and there were people on the street dressed in 40s costume. It felt a bit like a movie but everyone else seemed to be staring at them too.

On my travels, I went into an antiques and vintage clothing store. It was like a cheap gift store with bright lights on glass cabinets.
When I walked in, a number of plastic looking necklaces greeted me. The sign above them said "Genuine art deco necklaces found in the back of a European warehouse. $12 each."

Jewellery glass cases housed broaches, necklaces and crystals at the front of the store.
Down the main aisle, I came across a secondhand bookshop area, gloves, bags, war memorabilia, binoculars and finally a 1940s department store style vintage clothes area.
Hats were perched on old mannequin heads and dresses 'pre-1970' were displayed on racks.

It all started to feel rather morbid instead of quirky. Its great to enthuse about the era but it dawned on me that all the ex-owners are probably dead.
All this was reinforced by the 1940s style song with lyrics 'I'm going to live til I die'.

As other customers poked at the items on display, the whole thing seemed a tacky and distasteful way to honour the past. So I quickly exited, walking home via the steep staircases and lanes weaving above the city.

It was a sunny Saturday and the art deco detail of the city was more apparent as I climbed the hill. How could I argue with the views, palm trees and this small city's style!

Stress

I'm a bit of stresser but how can it all crumble into a massive health snowball on my first big internship week.

I've always leaned towards total burnout work-wise because lets face it, its a little fun.
But I think even for me, I'm a little wiped out from all the stuff on lately.

I arrived in the Bay in one piece, its hot here in the afternoons and everything has fallen into place. But I've been on edge and overtly worried about waking in time for work, getting there and then actually producing the goods.

So in this stressful time (one week) along comes large pimples, a cold, the sorest throat possible, day long headaches, shivers and automatic cars- where is the clutch and why is the shift always stuck in park?

But while my body has a melt-down least some interesting stories have cropped up.
Went door knocking around Flaxmere when they had the 200 plus school brawl and then talked to a McDonalds owner when an employee exposed himself in the children's playground.

News isn't always palatable but you have to get it out there amongst it.

I'm not sure what to make of the medical miracles but I'm sure they will be solved with sleep in the weekend.

Post A Secret

I was in Borders the other day (I love manufactured cosy environments) and found myself in the art section.

Amongst the overpriced books on street art or how to draw cartoons was the book 'Post A Secret'.

It is a community art project that encourages people to send in postcards of their secrets.

I've seen about two of the four editions which have been released and the content just gets crazier.

Its amazing the creativity out there even when you are dealing with the most painful secret possible. Most are weird scribblings or collages to over-emphasise the point.

Imagine the relief of sending your secrets to a box number anonymously. You could tell them anything and it won't be traced back to you but it would be out there. Published in Borders no less!

Maybe its perverted that we are automatically drawn to wanting to knowing what other peoples secrets are even if they are anonymous. Toilet walls, postcards, gossip columns- nothing has become outdated yet as a medium to divulge information to our community or the world.

We all want to know forbidden information, but how far does it go before it makes even us uncomfortable. Maybe because its anonymous there is not even a line marked in the sand.

'Post A Secret' now has its own blog, due to the sheer volume of secrets being sent in.

Stitching a storm

Before I interviewed the organiser of 'Stitch n Bitch Hamilton', I had a quick look on the net and I found a massive online craft community operating.

Even here in Hamilton, there is this craft group who meet at a bar weekly to knit and chat. No craft is excluded and as an ex-cross stitcher, I started contemplating a new piece.

I had previously heard of Subversive Cross Stitch in Bust magazine, so began my search there for some creative patterns.
Most of patterns include swear words in their sayings, as I've never been a graphic text person they don't really appeal. Anyway not sure if the charm would remain by the time I stitched it and then hung it in my laundry.

This brings me to what I would like to stitch- maybe a battle scene or a protest march, just to make it interesting and a little radical.

I've already bought some fabric for it but I'm not sure when the great masterpiece will be begun. I'll have to settle on an idea first, which could take a while.

Town Centre

After writing teeline passages about town centres, I've begun to wonder if they still exist.

If you believe the promotional imagery at your large nearby carbon copy shopping centre, its a place to meet friends and get all your to-do lists done.

When people-watching the other day at yet another Westfield, families kept to themselves, couples walked oblivious, school children gossiped and individuals moved with determination. No-one outside of shops seemed to actually interacting.

Architects impressions of new shopping centres highlight the building and the brand as the main attraction to the complex. People are barely decoration on the footpath or public areas even though they lure the viewer into the image and sell the concept as a place to be. It remains the same when these centres are built.

Reading the local paper, I came across an ad for my local block of shops. It termed the shops as 'a shopping centre where everyone knows your name'.
Like a lot of 1960-70s suburban shops in Hamilton, it is a singular row of shops with parking in the front and a large pot-holed car park at the back.

Owned by a family trust, basic necessities such as butcher, vet, fruiterer and real estate agent have gone. Replaced by cafes, therapists and furniture upholsters.

I won't term it the epicentre for the local community, but then maybe we don't require a modern version of the town square.

We call, text and meet at other locations on the move. The world doesn't stand still for us to interact with others.

Lost Art

Letter writing or sending a postcard seem to have become a lost art as email and new technology takes over the world.

In Browsers Bookshop, there is a box of old and new postcards. Most of the new ones are paintings by Edward Hopper (I'm now officially a fan) but some of the old ones are so faded and dog-earred.

It sounds strange to buy a used postcard, but the fountain tip pen message says more about the person than the scene. I read one from Paris that was an apology to a friend for something that they had not spoken off since.
I remember when I was younger, the point of writing a journal was to leave a piece of yourself behind and available to the future explorer who finds it.

A tale popularised by Anne Frank's diary, journals continue to be stocked with locks, flowers and ribbon bookmarks, but I wonder if their charm remains when social networking sites grow in members.

I guess its up to the individual as to what is important. Its nice to receive a hand-written letter or a postcard as fewer people get round to it, even if it has the cliche "wish you were here".

Three films

I prefer being in the dark rather than being in the light so I guess it isn't a surprise that I savour the cinema experience.

There have been memorable incidents- one involving smuggling a fish burger into a movie and then the attendant telling my friend off for possessing it. She had sushi with her and hasn't really forgiven me.

I jump a bit in thriller and horror movies and that is accentuated when I wear a plastic raincoat. I haven't yet fallen asleep, become locked in the grotty toilets or thrown up in my popcorn but I'm sure my time will come.

During this year's International Film Festival offerings, I ended up seeing three from the Incredibly Strange Film Fest which was running in conjunction.

Zombies were living in apartments in [rec]- the reporter trapped in the building liked to scream a bit but told the cameraman Pablo to keep filming while running.

A naive girl found power from an unlikely organ in 'Teeth'- very funny but I'm not sure if the mainly male audience found it so amusing.

Then 'Timecrimes'- three versions of one man play in a loop around a house and lab. Death, betrayal and confusion ensue. Love time travel movies ever since the Back to the Future trilogy.

Enjoyed them all and will have to seek out some incredibly strange ones in the future for some light relief.

Mixed tapes

In less than a months time, I'll be making a large road trip east for a three week stay. A five hour drive sounds daunting but isn't too bad with a couple of mix tapes.

Once you pass Taupo, it feels like you are alone in the wilderness for several hours. Last time I made the trip, I only recorded half of the tape properly with edited songs. The rest was taped continuously off the radio with ads, DJs and callers in-between songs.

As my car isn't worth the splurge of a CD stereo system, I'm sticking with my cassette player. Instead of hooking in the ipod, think I'll try and make at least 3 tapes for the journey.

I've always been a fan of older technology such as cassettes. I bought tapes instead of CDs until they became completely obsolete.

My brother used to use a hack tape to record songs and then re-recorded them onto a final tape. I just record direct onto a tape and don't re-record unless it is quite a messy recording.

Its funny to listen to the older tapes I made since about age 12. I had an obsession with 80s music and only recorded a few modern songs.
The quality is not the greatest- grainy, half cut off and parts re-recorded over but they provide some entertainment especially on road trips.

For birthdays, I used to record special mix-tapes so I had a defined soundtrack of tunes for the day.

I'm only half-way through the first tape for the trip and it is taking a while as I only want songs I haven't been able to capture.

I better listen to the radio over the next few weekends, so I can achieve my 3 tape goal.

Internal Maze

Whenever I visit a new supermarket, I feel like I'm lost in a theme park maze.

Everything is clambering for your attention and its a sea of colours and activity.

You have to travel through all the fruit and vegetables, dairy, meat before even getting close to smaller items like batteries or bread. All the while trying to escape slow trolley traffic and insistent product demonstrators.

No-one ever looks like they are having the time of their lives travelling with a trolley. At peak time like when you are on the road, there are traffic jams and road rage.
Shoppers try and pass you on the right and left, grab for the items you want, trespass personal space areas and children are always screaming for lollies or attention.

I wouldn't recommend going to supermarket- hungry, sick or tired, that never ends well. I once went to buy cake and ended up throwing up my dinner in the bakery- it wasn't pretty.

While you are killing time in trolley traffic, why not check out all the cheap appliances, latest dvds and cds available in a special aisle.
Along with my bread and instant meals, how could I forget that I needed to pick up a big screen TV for myself?

Then you get to the checkout and you search for the shortest line. Usually the operator-in-training is free, aren't you lucky? Over-charged and then they ask for your loyalty cards, which could be lost at the bottom of your wallet or in the washing machine. The bin could be a better choice.

I'm loving those self-checkouts- no personal contact/drama, only the machine and me. The scanning sounds are extra thrilling but they still demand my loyalty card.

If I heap all the goods back into my trolley, I could save 20 cents and then do battle with real cars in the car park. Or I could bundle them under my arm and drop keys, purse, groceries in the car park or even better the supermarket floor. Least I'm a clean and green consumer without my plastic bag.
I should really bring along my trendy eco-bag to pack my own groceries, but then I could be accused of shop-lifting.

After my weekly shop, I feel like a lab mouse that has just completed a maze marathon. Can't wait to start it all over again next week.

Coloured ink

I really should diligently read the entire newspaper before falling upon the magazine lift-out, but it is hopeless I'm rather addicted.

Viva, Time-out, Sunday, Escape even TV Week catches my eye. I wonder if coloured ink has this effect on everybody.
I can forgive the cheesy explaination statements on the cover (think Time-Out- because your weekend starts here) because the combination of words + pictures= numerous views.

The only problem with these magazines is the lack of variety in format. After a couple of kooky people have shared their 10 favourite things and a series of eco-warriors are paraded, the columns get old and predictable.

I do though enjoy the questions and answers in the Sunday magazine.

Questions like:
what is your favourite supermarket aisle?
Shave or Wax?
Ten material possessions you can't live without?
Biggest fashion mistake of our era?

All produce varied answers from the simple to the ridiculous.

What these 'magazines' feed on is the latest hype- designer clothes, TV shows and up-and-comers on the national or international scene. People love this light relief fluff and the free TV listings.

Auckland restaurants always get put through their paces by 'the duke', 'the woman' or 'Jude' reviewers. Their companions thoughts often find their way into the column even if its their 5 year old son.
What I've learnt in my review reading is: views/location and good food never mix, bathrooms are often tight and unpleasant and bad wait staff can kill the ambient mood.

The things you learn when you read gossip, food and TV reviews!
Long live the throw-away lift-out, keeps me sane when I should be doing work.

Risks

In our course there is becoming an overwhelming elephant in the room of where we will go from here.
We are driving on the avenue and side streets start to appear, is it really where we want to go or do?
Will we be stuck forever in this one way street if we take this path?

There is always fear with any choices as you constantly read about regrets and missed opportunities. In the latest TV Guide, stars comment on their regrets, namely turning down a part on a successful film or series.
I was struck by Henry Winkler's tale. He said he regretted not taking the part of Danny in Grease. He didn't want to be typecast after Happy Days but was unaware that he already was.
John Travolta went on to make big movies and he just went home.

I wonder what is worse thing you could become if you strayed from the professional journalism path. Your reputation could be a hack, a dark sided PR vampire or even an ex-journalist in 10 years time but is this industry so callous that you are forever tainted?

There are endless ways to become 'stuck' and still peddling the same trash in the future, but right now we have our fresh near-graduate status on our side. We have to strike while the iron is hot (love cliches) and try and make it sooner rather than later.

I've already thought and experienced all this doubt in a previous tech life. What is the point in worrying about mistakes you might make in the future.
You make decisions as the person you are today not what you could be 10 years from now.

Corporate Identity

Another day and another product is released. The latest is the iPhone, dripping with contract strings and add-on costs.

In line at the Queen Street Vodafone store is Jonny Gladwell, typical student camped out for 60 hours to be the first in the world to buy one.
Media coverage was overkill due to the lack of political blunders and overseas disasters.

We could all celebrate or relate to this guy then it turns out he's been paid to do it, wearing sponsored clothing and is the latest in sheep in wolves clothing marketing plant.

What a surprise that blatant logo placement is not reaching consumers so now honesty and creditability are for sale in this urban wasteland.
You can sell your soul on trademe, pretend to have a disability to sell airbags, make a "homemade" video on your cellphone of your workmates and be the latest video diarist on utube.

It does take the gloss off when everything is a hoax and set up by corporate identities. Though outraged, we can't kid ourselves that we would never sell what was truly important to us.

Bribery is the daily bread of corporates and we are only a twig in a storm.
Is it possible to fight the corporate machine and maintain individuality in modern culture.
Or are we so far gone that when a branded t-shirt is offered, we actually believe we are buying popularity and acceptance.

We are but branded calves in the herd.