'Then she said…..' by Seri Vida + 'The Hound' by Seri Vida + 'Doll Clothes' by Cindy Sherman (1975).

Then she said…..

All these stupid romances have been excellent fodder for song writing, painful, rage inducing and generally fucked up but amazing for song writing. It’s hard to explain the feeling. When you are so full of vitriol and you have lots of words running through your head and you sit down with a lap top and a beat or start to play your Tele really loud in your bedroom and swear bloody murder and huff and puff all over the place. Sometimes….something happens and all those emotions become something of their own. A song. Depending on who you talk to these song can be “edgy” “raw” “real” songs or they can make you a class A “boner killer” or “man hater”. So what?

Lately I have met someone new, well…met them in a new way. And to my absolute surprise and wonderment they are generous, loving, sincere and wanting to spend time (with ME). So all of a sudden (after the obligatory initial panic and insecurity) I am in this crazy romantic blissful place. What now for the songs?

Well they keep coming…. but they are different. They are sweet. They are… not what I’m used to.

Sounds all very self pitying I know but seriously it has been a while since I’ve felt this good about love. So I am reconciling myself with the reality of writing love songs that aren’t based around the “why won’t you just love me dammit!” theme and more about the “you are the sunshine of my life” theme.

Who knows….it could turn into a pretty good album.

S.V.

"An only child, a Cancer, a sometimes moody, otherwise confessional SERI VIDA has been throwing tantrums on stages across Melbourne since fronting THE PANG in 2009. VIDA has since moved on to more personal projects, dissecting her musical persona to discover a sound uniquely her own.

The edgy songstress began writing music in the confines of her bedroom, from plunking notes on the old ebony and ivory to strumming the sturdy strings of an electric guitar to accompany her vocal prowess. The Brunswick-born artist has always liked listening to angry music, and though her debut LP To Be Free reflects a darker side of the mid-90s inspired rock sound from which she emerged a musician, VIDA’S music is more seductive than it is angry - although it is aggressively poetic and brutally honest at the most opportune moments..."

'again i find myself sleepwalking' by Michael Hier + 'Mary Woronov + Paul Bartel Interview Circa Eating Raoul 1982'.

 

"Michael Hier lives with his wife, son, and two black cats. He writes occassionaly..."

'On Watching Judith Butler' by Alice Tarbuck + 'Judith Butler: Philosophe en tout'

On watching Judith Butler.

Limping, I've pursued you into French

and from this vantage, prop myself on subtitles

to hear the German. Far more suited: you envigour,

immaculately dressed in clothes declaiming  

peur de la femininite  - which we can play with later .

Put out the artist's too-faint luminescence

regarding her own work: pas blesse, these women

who recline enmeshed with the telephone, the very

(pinnacle? I cannot catch - ) of female discourse: they

reach out remotely, safely, still recoiling from the touch

(I think as much.

I'm half-supplying answers for your

hard-set and teutonic lips round which a wisp of Romance

dances, tacked on by the philologist.)

                                                I'm barely on the

fringes: all my waving up and down the orange pavement

heralds taxis, not the tricks turned by breast binding.

I paint my nails, my gender trouble too-

tough girls. Judith Butler - I want to undress you and that

poses problems, displaces serious thoughts with other ones,

upends the notion that women who speak philosophy

have transformed to prism'd things and thwart the common gaze.

For you, I realigned my days, and, spine well broken -

locate in my imperfect translation,

blanks designed to entertain the notion that

in-between the enveloping logics of transgression

lie forgotten catacombs of devastation and emotion.

"Alice Tarbuck is a poet and playwright. Her work has been published in various magazines, including Stalking Elk, The Phoenix and Bedroom Stories 2. This poem centres around watching a series of lectures by feminist philosopher Judith Butler..."

'Something Professional' by Joe Sacksteder + 'A Crystal Poem (Complete)' by Klaus Schulze.

JoeSacksteder-Something Professional by Queen Vic Knives

"Joe Sacksteder teaches creative writing at Eastern Michigan University and goaltenderly menaces the local hockey bar leagues. Recent publications include Puerto del Sol, Mississippi Review, Hawaii Review, Penumbra, Southeast Review Online, and more. This track comes from his unreleased album, "Fugitive Traces," which culls audio commentary from over a dozen films by German director Werner Herzog..." 

'A Few Randoms" by Matthew John Davies + 'Ritual in Transfigured Time (1946)' by Maya Deren.

GAINED LOSS LOST.

woman lost in man
holy word lost in ink
lover lost in love

blanket lost in warmth
painting lost in frame

loss
gained
by
lost

spoken lost in swallowed
gained

sun lost in shine
cloud lost in rain

poetry lost in
the printing
the analysis
the context
the herd

gained by the echo
of this soft, brittle voice
you do not hear

BLONDE ROOTS.

amble to the clicking of brekkie glasses
bowls, marked cutlery
towards that chosen yogurt
that perfectly proportioned jelly
to kick-start your day
with the perfect wobble

faded blonde
glasses at 7am
your coupons crushed
face caked
but with the remnants
of wealthy, laboured beauty

the collected creams
tonics
botox
new age healers
your husband can no longer afford
or he has left you
for your insides
he’ll never explore

"Matthew John Davies has been published in various zines and journals, including SpeedPoets and Page Seventeen..."

'Are My Seams Straight' by Dyana Gray + 'Manhatta' by Paul Strand & Charles Sheeler.

"Dyana Gray is a New Zealand artist living in Melbourne, Australia. Her practice flows across a range of mediums including painting, cartooning/illustrating, music, and animation..."

'Snow' by John Behan + 'L'Etoile de Mer' by Man Ray (1928)

SNOW.

The blizzard had subsided,
And now white flakes floated,
Gently to the ground.
Tall trees stood stark and bare,
Sentinels unmoving, white uniform.
A nearby chimney, smoke gently rises,
People warm and snug inside, sleep.
Every now and then a star shines,
Like a diamond adorning the crown.
Paradise here in this mortal world.

John Behan.

"John Behan writes because he enjoys it so much..."

MORE John Behan on Queen Vic Knives - here & here.