PAINT

A few weeks back I had an interview for Massey School of Fine Arts up in Wellington. As part of the interview I had to go through the arduous, but ultimately useful process of photographing the work from my folio from last year. WHICH I finished a year ago last week, promising to post pics of it online asap. So, yes. That's how long Callum takes to come through on his promises.

I promise to do better in the future.

Anyway, here's some of my paint work. I'm using old family photo's to make creepy mixed-media-mash-ups. It's all about memory and childhood nostalgia. In other words, exactly what turns me on creatively. I'm super happy with them.

PROOF

..we played a gig. This is Custard Bear playing a song Oli hasn't titled yet with Kurt! Awesomes.

Fred's Dilemma

As promised (for once) here follows the illustrations I did for my grandpa Terry's book. IN SUPER LARGE!!

Chapter One (and front cover) - The mysterious island where it all takes place. Note: scary cliffs, huts on beach, cliche distant flying birds, super dramatic lighting.


The Scary Cliffs: A BODY?!! Oh heavens no! What a terrible accident. Definately an accident... Or was it?? We may never know. Unless a selfless hero becomes a detective to try and solve this dilemma.

Giorgio: What a bully... what a coward... What a fiend! (if you read the book you'd understand my hatred for him. Jerk). The island has it's own laws now, and you will face cage-related consequences if you disobey!


The End: Lot's more stuff happens on the island, but I won't ruin it (or let you know if they get to freedom or descend into savagery). This is a perfect circle-wipe ending, showing the now idylic island. Cue bright sky and a calm mist.


I'll happily illustrate your book if you wrote one. Not that I'm advertising or anything. I'm just super happy with these drawings. I hope you like them and they make you want to buy my grandpa's book. I'll let you know how when I figure it out myself.

Currantly*

(*man do I love currants!)

So, as things tend to do for me occasionally, I've found myself with some projects on the go. The latest completed is the one below, Grand Spectacular.

I'm also working on some illustrations for an adventure book my grandpa Terry is getting printed. It's called Fred's Dillema and is set on an island where a bunch of survivors from a sunken cruise ship try to survive each other and mysterious goings on. I'm doing sick Brett Helquist ish pencil sketches. Except way less dramatic and classy. I'll upload them onto here when I've scanned them, I'm pretty happy with them.

Also on the go is me painting. I have to get back into practice for art school, and I'm in the process of assembling my portfolio for my interview so it's as good a time as any.

The other exciting thing happening is band related. Hans Pucket played at a party the other week which was super fun. I bashed my knuckles on the edge of the drums and spattered blood over the snare and floor tom. It was super punk. Highlight was our Jungle Book medley. We're playing at thom's previously mentioned leaving thing, with all of the bands in the world, so that should be cool.

Also, Custard Bear returned from the depths of nothing-whatsoever to play a paid gig with THE FUCKING BATS! (aka The Bats). It was in the hagley park fanzone (yeah!). Jack had some wedding on an island, so we got our good pal Kurt in as a more than capable substitute, who proceeded to kick ass in every respect. So much fun. I missed playing bass more than I realised. We played a couple oldies, but a new rock song oli wrote that tuesday. My brother dishes them out like the best of them, really. It's insane.

So, all of this, AND full time working going down. In case you were wondering from my absence of posts, I do keep myself occupied, really.

(Photo from Hans flat party gig below)

Thom's Leaving

So I made him this cover art for a mixtape he's making for people that come to this gig on saturday with ALL OF THE BANDS IN CHRISTCHURCH but he's asleep. So I'll post it online.

It's pretty cool. Lot's of colour. I like the cat in it.




If you come to the gig and pay ten dollars instead of five you'll get a cd with all the bands that looks like this. Do come. Really.

Damien Letter (age 11)

Mostly inspired by Vincents awesome blog, I wrote this letter as a character exercise for my film. It's an old letter, one of the first that Damien writes to NZ Post, asking for a job.

I found it hugely beneficial.

Dear New Zealand Post,

My name is Damien and I am 11 years old. I would love to work for you as a postman right away.

Ever since I was 8 I have always dreamed of being a postman/mail carrier/postie and so I know lots about the subject. However, your industry is one of secrecy and magic, and I wish to join your ranks to uncover more about your inner workings.

I love going outside, and I send letters all the time. Mail, as I am sure you would agree, is a much purer form of communication than email. My mum says that computers are made by “profiteering scum” and are the reason she is out of work (she teaches calligraphy). My dad is allowed one though, but only because he is involved with data input at work and computers are kind of the point. But I’m sure if he could he would do it all by hand.

I have always admired the skill and dedication that postmen/women show, delivering mail every day and in all weather conditions. You are all heroes. I also like how friendly you all are, and how you endeavour to know peoples name and when their birthday is. That is an impressive feat.

I do have a couple questions though.

1. Do you still drive in vans or has the movement officially been made to bikes?

2. Do you really get up at six am or even EARLIER?

3. Are you all afraid of dogs or is this a white lie?

As well as being my dream job, I am also business focussed, and your competitive rates and benefits scheme has definitely caught my eye.

Thank you for considering my application. I am ready for an immediate start.

Yours sincerely,

Damien Wickes.

ps. I am incredibly happy just knowing that this letter was delivered by the power and magic of the postal industry. I look forward to joining it soon.

TITLES

A Brief History of Title Design from Ian Albinson on Vimeo.

Oh man oh man this is cool.

SKILLS AND ASSETS

I work at Blockbuster Video. It's considered an awesome job due to it being easy. It is. People assume I just spend all my time watching movies. I do. But it's much much more than that.

And in order to convince myself of the benefits of my job, I have compiled this list.

Skills Callum Has Gained From His Job

1. Can alphabetise super fast.
2. Knows the difference between Horror and Thriller.
3. Can balance large stacks of DVDs in one hand.
4. Small talk.
5. Can nod and smile at the same time.
6. Can leave an answering machine message without wanting to die afterwards.
7. Time management skills.
8. Has "spare time" now (which I realised using number 7).
9. Can quote most of Fantastic Mr Fox.
10. I wear a watch now.

The last ones a cop out.

My job's amazing.

TICK

I'm writing a film. It's called Tick. It's about a guy who can't sleep because of the noises in his wall, and in his muddled state has the best/worst week of his life. It's pretty cool, but it's my first one so it probably doesn't make a lot of sense yet.

Here's some concept art...




I'm now setting myself a goal to bang it out. I'm giving myself a month. I thought I'd let you know because you might hold me to it.

"Work" starts tomorrow...

Eror

I think I haven't been posting (AT ALL) lately because I really want that picture of that smokey ghost to be at the top of the page. Man. Sorry. I have actually been really productive and busy and had lots of adventures that I could talk about. It seems my selfish pride has deprived you all of whimsical stories and brilliant thought trains.

APOLOGIES.x

SMOKEY GHOST

Oli and Callum have been productive.

Introducing a track by Hans Pucket.

(artwork by me)

Smokey Ghost

Thanks Thom.

We Are House

My parents are in the process of building their dream home. It has really been a long time coming. When it was initially designed, all three of us kids were living at home. Now, Oli and I may only get a couple months in it before we move away to bigger things. But I know it's going to be the perfect place to come back home to. And I'm still getting my own room.

Anyway, we're at the stage where its finally looking like a house. It has an almost-roof and everything! It seems they really started making progress when Oli and I stopped pretending to be labourers (read "getting-in-the-way-ers) and got different jobs that we could actually do. So last Tuesday I took Paige to see it in all it's skeletal construction-site glory.

(*click on photos for a better view)


This is the view from the front driveway. To the left is the almost-garage, and to the right of that is the almost-front entrance way. Above the garage is a sweet alcove like space which will one day be utilised as a band/(wild) rumpus room.

This is a photo of Paige standing in my parents almost-bedroom.


Here, Paige is making use of the almost-roof by sticking her head through it.

This is Adrian, my ex-manager. He's up very high, isn't he? Hahaha... He knows what he's doing, don't worry. That almost-roof doesn't stand a chance!


This is a cool photo. Its Paige crouching inside my closet in my very own almost-bedroom. Yeah, I know, but Adrian assures me that when the house is finished it won't have such a draft.


And here, in all its autumnal beauty, is the view from my bedroom window. I love it. Second stories man! It is a vast improvement on my current view: a seedy overgrown tennis court through a chain-link fence.

"One day son, all this will be yours!"

Good News; Bad News

Good News; Forty Eight Hours

This past weekend I partook in the 48 Hours film making competition for the fourth time. And as what usually happens with 48 Hours, I had one of the most blisteringly productive and ludicrously enjoyable weekends of my life, and I don't know whether thats because of the thrill of the race, or the high that is film making itself. Seeing something that came from your own mind (or in this case, the minds of a bevy of incredibly creative and talented people) grow and develop and turn into something way cooler, and way real-er than your thoughts is outrageously exciting. It's a welcome reminder that this is what I need to be doing with my life. It is honestly so pointlessly obvious I don't know why I'm sitting here telling you when I can be out there doing it already, but I am. So stop arguing with me. Films man. Films. It's the only thing in my head at the moment. Well... not the only thing... (*tee he hee's). But the people around me can probably agree it's the only thing I talk about.

The other cool thing that this weekend did was show me just how awesome and talented my friends are. Like, for one, saying they'd do this for no other reason than as a way to have fun, or be creative, or as a favour, or whatever reasons they had, I am very grateful for. Also, everyone involved just gave it everything. The writing group... oh man, the arguments we had! The ACTORS! I mean christ, I did not see that coming. Brilliant. SO brilliant. And the music. Man, my brother is a god. And we were a team. For this one weekend we had this film. And it was the most important thing in our lives for a short while. Everyone just got fearlessly involved with it, and it was a beautiful thing to watch.

For those involved, sorry for being a cranky/uncommunicative git. You are all brilliant. Thank you. The film turned out amazing, and I shall definitely be posting it as soon as I can.



Bad News; Forty Eight (and a Half) Hours.

Yeah, so we kind of took a wee bit too long, put a wee bit too much awesome into the film, that it took a wee bit longer than forty eight hours to finish, and so we got disqualified. We can blame schedules or technology or karma, but I really don't care that we did. The film stands as something I am proud to be a part of, and a wicked memory, and a perfect encouragement, and as experiences go I can't really ask for more.


Today is a win for optimism.

Now play this:

Jobber

I've officially "settled in" to my new job. Well, I can't really say new, as my previous job at the Coffee Club only lasted a day. And it wasn't even a job, because I wasn't ever employed there. It was just a temp day, like training. See how I went. This was a while back actually.

It was going really swell. I had to bus into town and everything, and wear head to toe blacks. It was from ten till two, and I got there a bit early and so went to the library and read Roald Dahl's excellent Tales of the Unexpected that I got given by Nat when he left for The Big Salt (I don't think any ones ever called England The Big Salt before, but it was worth a shot).

I was training in the Kitchen by this guy whose name I don't remember. He let me wear his coffee club head cap thing because I had kind of long hair, and he wanted me to feel 'part of the team'. It was nice. We made awkward banter, and he told me about the perks of the job, basically showing me the ropes. I love ropes. He showed me how to make the breakfast foods, use the grill thing, make a huge batch of scrambled egg mix (I had to shell two huge trays of eggs and then mix in 2 litres of cream with a hand blender. It was awesome, but super gross), and do dishes. The dishes were easy, and involved an enormous industrial dish washer. I mainly did them because they didn't involve a recipe and made me feel like I was contributing and not just getting in the way.

This Korean guy named Q came in when shit got busy over lunch. I couldn't really understand a lot of what he was saying. He told me a funny story about sword fighting while I sliced a dozen or so tomatoes. He was pretty cool, and was alarmingly relaxed for what for me seemed like a high pressure job. I guess it was because he was just really good at it. The focus these guys had was mad. And such tough hands. I was told that I would get a lot of burns. I was prepared to bleed for this job.

Then, about ten minutes before the end of my shift, there was an enormous fuck off earthquake. The kitchen was quite small, and the two big fridges slammed against the opposite wall, almost trapping the other two guys in. All the people in the cafe were screaming, and I was almost certain the building was going to collapse. The sound of it. You really understand the weight of concrete and wood and plaster when you remember that it's there, above you. But everyone knows about the earthquake now. It was the worst possible thing any of us needed. I would almost complain about its inconvenience, but that's really a bad way to think about it. That general "fuck this" sneered across every ones faces. These earthquakes will make cynics of us all.

But with time comes perspective, naturally. I think every ones sort of gathered themselves. I understand where I'm at now, and have had time to place my feet back on the ground. I think it's just the uncertainty that scares me more than anything. I didn't really realise how much of a step everything is, whether its planned or not. I really hope it's leading somewhere useful.

I can't stand feeling unproductive. That's what got me through those weeks after the quake, keeping on making goals. The job was a goal, and now I've got it. Now I've finally got something to make my time more valuable. Something to complain about. And ultimately, a way of achieving the bigger goals.

I had this theory that you should never really tell people the bigger goals, because then there's more pressure on achieving them, and also making you less open to other options. I have recently muted this theory on the basis of a startling realisation:

I am allowed to change my mind.

CAMP WAS AGES AGO!

But man. Was it super awesome. So super awesome its hard to describe in words. Which is why it sucks that we lost our camera before we even stepped off of the bus.

Here's the photos that we did get:


And then Oli lost our camera. It did turn up post camp, but by then it was well and truly too late. Luckily, NEON SLEEP did take photos, and I was occassionally accidentally in them! So let's play, SPOT THE CALLUM! (it gets harder).

Reminder

Shit's been getting kind of real lately, which has been super lame. In the midst of all the stress and horror and depression and angst you kind of forget the simple things that can really help. Like listening to music.

I HAVEN'T BEEN LISTENING TO MUSIC.

How did I not spot this??

Anyway, Oli downloaded Smith Westerns' Dye It Blonde for me, and seriously, within the first three seconds of the first track I remembered...

MUSIC IS AWESOME.

Really.

I feel better now.

One Hundred (And a Poster)

Apparently, this is my one hundredth (?) post on this blog. Cool. I assume it's some sort of milestone. Here, have a piece of internet cake.



Yum. Internet-licious.

The main point of this post is vague self promotion (isn't it always?). I just finished a poster for a gig Custard Bear is playing in Nelson with SFRQ alumni Peasants of Eden.


I was given the theme "1950's tin robot'. Turns out tin robots are hard to achieve with water colours, so it ended less tin-robot, and more Tin Tin. But I'm cool with that.

Bitch; Please

Both Steven AND my brother Oli made posters for Bitch; Please.

(being our new band. Pretty sweet. We played at Gorgeous George almost a year ago, but are doing our first grown up gig this Friday at WEHQ (yay for acronyms!))

I decided to join the wagon and make one too, and out do them (naturally).

AND I did it in two minutes.

AND I cheated. The wire lettering was made by Steven when we started the band. The picture of the tiger is from Oli's calendar. But their combination... GENIUS!

Like vanilla and coke.
Or cheese and anything.



For tunes: Bitch; Please bandcamp, and the gig page on facebook.

YAY! See you there.

Short Story: Highway Hedgetrollers

Once there was a butterfly who was the happiest butterfly on the planet. He was a monarch which means KING and for him all days were glory days. Except one...

Because on one unfortunate day, the monarch was resting on a garden path when a VILE CHILD came along and touched his wings. It felt like monarch had walked right under a waterfall. He sat on the pavement, felt his spirit seeping out of the blemish on his lovely wing.

Suddenly he was joined by what the Animal Kingdom knows as HIGHWAY HEDGETROLLERS, more commonly known as badgers. Gingerly, the badgers took him in their paws and carried him along the hedge until they reached a trove deep in the forest where bird calls echo like raindrops. Monarch suddenly felt at peace with himself.

The rough badgers placed him on the grass and whistled. On his whistle, a hundred squirrels came and started making a huge daisy chain that they placed in a ring around him, and then squirrels and badgers alike formed a circle around monarch and sang his life into a song.

By now, monarchs spirit had seeped fully out of him but it danced on the breath of the singers. monarch's wings fluttered in the wind as he sighed and let himself go; to forever dance on the breath of anyone who is singing.



***improvised txt short story circa 2009