8: Emeralds are green. So are pickles.

You saw 'ew', I say say, 'yummm'.

I'd ask for double, you'd rather stick em' up your bum.

You don't like pickles, but you like the bun.

You say 'Emerald', I say 'Kelly'.

If you eat our burger it could be deadly,

But I guess at least our Disco Burger's not smelly.

On the tram Emerald and I saw a man walking into a restaurant carrying a gigantic carrot that had almost outgrown his entire body. We touched off and strolled down Brunswick street, where we saw a jar of pickles in a shop window. I think it was a bike shop. It made no sense. It made me think of that Courtney Barnett song. We forgot about the pickles and ate pizza piled with mushrooms and caramelised onions served by a cute girl with green hair, while the guy across from us sat with his mate in a chair that was too low for the table, and made him look slightly like an Oompa Loompa. He didn't have green hair. He had a golfer's hat. We left a tip in the teacup, then proceeded to squeeze chocolate sauce out of a syringe into our ice creams as we watched a busker in a rainbow hat beatbox and play the trombone. Then we went home. I forgot my keys. We walked to the supermarket to buy apple juice. We walked back. Dad pedalled to the gate in his stripy socks just in time to let us inside. 

When we got in, we were planning on writing a comic about how Carrot Man was saving the world one vegetable at a time. I drew lots of small rectangles for us to draw the pictures in, while Emerald drew a picture about our adventurous day. It looked like this:

We gave up on the comic and instead cut out the rectangles we'd made and drew pictures and words on each side. One of those words was:

Emerald drew this on the back:

Those little cards left us even more confused than when we started. I fiddled with the hundreds of tiny golden stars sitting in a little bronze-coloured dome shaped thing. It looked like the bottom of a hamburger bun. "Hey, we could make a hamburger!". But we couldn't have a hamburger with only one bun. Hmm. I walked downstairs to get some water, passing a little disco ball that was hanging by my window. I got the water and brought the disco ball back upstairs with me. We went downstairs again and cut it in half. 

We found a cheap rip off Hawaiian Lei. We cut that up too. 

We found an old brown shirt. We cut it into two circles and sewed them back together. We stuffed it with paper.

We found a holy piece of plastic. Baby Cheeses. We painted it yellow.

We found some red felt. We cut it up.

We found some rubber. Painted it green. Cut it up. Found some green felt. Found a pink gun. Squeezed glue out of it.

I bet you've never found a Disco Burger.

Emerald started opening her mouth.

I finished the blog post.

Lucky 7: Dain Bramage

The one and only Liv Coffey hung out with me today, and we did some drawings together, which may have somehow have found their way onto the walls of a shady 'lil alley in Geetroit (Accidentally on purpose. Probably.):

Inspiration came from walkin' around town like zombies, eating fingers and ears and brains and caramello koalas, and also from this band Dave Grohl and Rueben Radding used to be in when they were young and reckless and maybe slightly dain bramaged:

Enjoy. Be good. Don't eat your brother and sister.

6: Rock n roll Bowie-suits from outer space

There's a brand new dance
but I don't know its name
That people from bad homes 
do again and again
It's big and it's bland 
full of tension and fear
They do it over there 
but we don't do it here

FASHION! Turn to the left

FASHION! Turn to the right

oooooh.....

A couple of weeks ago on Bowie's birthday Candy Richens and I both happened to be googling his face (because he's awesome and cute and always google worthy). We'd been planning to do some sort of music/fashion-y collaboration, and as we were scrolling we found heaps of photos of Bowie in insane jumpsuits like these ones:

(AAW! That one was my favourite)

And we thought, hey, why don't we make up our own Bowie-inspired jumpsuits??

So we each started designing our own. Here's mine:

And Candy's:

Candy found some material, I found some clothes I'd bought that were too big for me, and we pinned them to ourselves then proceeded to cut 'em up, kind of just making it up as we went along:

Then we met up to bring it all together, doing some rough hand sewing, a bit of machine sewing, and adding trillions of safety pins and listening to this awesome garage/punk band from Newcastle (but they're abandoning all the Aussies and moving to the USA in March!) called Gooch Palms:

Here's them looking super classy:

And here's me and Candy looking almost as Classy in our new Bowie-suits:

Even classier phone-photoshop-ing:

And then later on WHEN BOWIE DROPPED IN (WOAH):

(Obviously this last one wasn't photoshopped)

He told me:

Let the children lose it,

Let the children use it,

Let all the children Boogie.

5: Fish to skunk, train to tongue.

The ever so lovely Camille Thomas made a cute little nonsense zine with me today. We wrote a story, then drew some pictures to accompany the words, and somehow while lost in our own heads and in the glue-stick-glue-stick glue-stick hand trance dance, and distracted by all the goings on at Sticky Institute, we stuck the words the wrong way around. It was too late to turn back, and so you have to make your own sense out of it:

 After we'd photocopied everything, we folded them into paper planes:

and as we talked, we wrote and drew a new little picture or sentence onto the side of each one. Snippets from our conversations, and pictures of the things around us seemed to sneak in, like tales of childhood junk food and tv show deprivation, and pictures of the awesome dude's scarf, sitting across from us on the table (I think his name was Sam):

Then we made two small stacks of them and stuck them into the typewriters by the door so that people could take them (for freeeeee!) If you get to sticky super quick you might find one there to take home for yourself!

As we were leaving, the girl who'd been working her butt off folding zines in front of us gave us each a copy of her zine too. It was called 'Useless thoughts'. She draws nice eyeballs.

Camille was also photocopying her latest zine, and I had an old copy of the very first zine I ever published in sticky too, so we did a little trade. Camille's zine is awesome. It's called 'LUST'. While you're picking up paper planes, you should totally grab a copy of LUST too:

4: The Ghost of Corsetry's future.

Zac Morris was today's collaborater, and when he came over we didn't really have any plans at all. As we talked, I lit some cherry and cinnamon candles in my loft upstairs, and we unloaded some little boxes of useless crap I'd collected over the years, which we hoped would give us something to start our artworks with. In the boxes were barbie doll heads, old plastic toys from kinder surprises, glow in the dark dinosaurs and bats and lizards, broken ceramic and glass pieces, golden stars, string, playing cards, figurines, old pill boxes, tiny battle soldiers, scraps of material. I also had a whole heap of old clothes I didn't want to wear. We were considering cutting the clothes up and making new clothes. Zac said he felt like making a corset. I happened to have an old one that someone had given me because they didn't want it anymore. I forgot to take a photo of the corset before we demolished it, but it was white, with small blue flowers on it. Kind of Japanese-looking. As we considered what to do, I was playing around with the melted wax in one of the candles I'd lit. Why didn't we just pour the wax over the corset and see what happened? Zac was a genius. It looked awesome. And it smelt SO GOOD. I traced around the patterns made by the wax, and then got bored with that and started drawing spiderwebs instead. We got out the hot glue gun and started sticking some things from the boxes onto it, then pouring more wax over the top. Then, after testing the corset out on me until we were happy with it, we went outside (for the five seconds that it wasn't raining) and took some photos of Zac in it, with a big blue tutu and tiny pink tartan skirt that were both hiding in the corner of my wardrobe. He wore his jeans and awesome shoes from Harijuku under it all, modelled like a queen, and this was the result:

The ghost said 

"Take of both your shoes

whatever chances you get

especially when they're wet".