Category Archives: Humour

Cupid’s Last Stand…Friday Fictioneers.

Cupid was watching his latest targets with great anticipation. Being the Roman God of love, he didn’t need a computer. He instinctively knew Matt and Sophie were perfectly suited.

However, despite his match-making prowess, the humans kept shooting themselves in both feet, screwing up their chances of love. Indeed, Matt who was the personification of Superman without a hint of Clark Kent, reeked of garlic breath. Too paranoid to wear her glasses, Sophie had almost walked past him blind as a bat.

“That’s it!” Cupid fumed throwing down his bow and arrow. “I quit! You humans are on your own.”

……..

This has been another contribution to Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wishoff Fields. PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

It’s been years since I’ve been on the dating scene. However, I’ve been watching The Batchelor tonight where I suspect Cupid’s been in overdrive. Bows and arrows shooting all over the place. At least, the was it seems.

Best wishes,

Rowena

 

 

When The Mirror Cracked…Friday Fictioneers.

Only Panoramic Pete would ever dream of driving a Kombi up Tasmania’s Cradle Mountain. A rugged track edging through grueling terrain, it was challenging on two feet. There was no way you’d get a Kombi further than the car park.

That didn’t stop “P.P.” from trying. After all, he couldn’t fit all of his must-have photography  props into a backpack. He couldn’t photograph nature in the raw either. As his detractors smirked, he had to piss all over it. Stick nature inside a human frame, reflect it back in a mirror and that was “art”.

Then, the mirror cracked.

….

This has been another contribution to Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wishoff Fields. Every week, we write a 100 words to a photo prompt. This week’s photo prompt is  © Nathan Sowers grandson of our own Dawn M. Miller.

Contrary to what I’ve implied above, I actually really like this photograph and commend the photographer. As a photographer myself, I have a swag of photography props myself and they tend to be a real pain to lug around.

I was actually going to focus on the shed in the shot, which looks very much like a shed my grandfather-in-law used to throw on the back of his truck to go tin mining around Derby, Tasmania. I don’t know how I deviated onto this farcical twist and I don’t think I want to find out.

Best wishes,

Rowena

Electrical Sex Fixing…What the @#$%!

Research was never meant to be a straight road. Quite often, there’s an astounding story right alongside the one I was looking for, which turns out to be “the find”.

Night, while reading through my grandmother’s music column from the 1950s, I stumbled across this gem:

Electrical Sex Fixing 1952

Unfortunately, a quick Google search fails to elucidate the matter any further. Does anybody know any more about this?

Best wishes,

Rowena

E-Eileen Agar…A-Z Challenge

As you may be aware, my theme for the Blogging A-Z Challenge is Writing Letters to Dead Artists, who have touched me personally in some way.

Today’s artist is British surrealist, Eileen Agar, who I came across in rather a unique way. You see,  while I was compiling my list, I came across an art personality quiz on the Tate Gallery’s web site… http://www.tate.org.uk/art/find-your-art-inspiration. This is part of Women’s History Month, and it allows you to see which woman artist is your perfect match.

Since I love such quizzes, I sharpened my brain and tried to answer the questions as honestly as I could. Confession time. This is not as easy as it sounds, because I find it all too easy to cheat, and present a more idealized version of myself.

As it turned out, I was told that Eileen Agar was my perfect match. Indeed, this is what the quiz told me:

Love to play: Eileen Agar

“You are curious and perceptive, with a playful sense of humour. You love nature and collecting beautiful objects. Highly imaginative, you look at the world from a sideways perspective. You’re open to new experiences and appreciate life’s absurdities – much like Eileen Agar.

Agar (1904–1991) was one of the few women artists to become associated with the Surrealist movement. In fact, she was the only British woman artist to show work at the International Surrealist Exhibition in 1936. A lot of her work is assembled using different found materials and objects, such as feathers, beads and shells. She often took the natural world as her cue, responding playfully to the landscape around her (see her photograph of ‘Bum and Thumb Rock‘).”

Well, this was a bit of a surprise for this meek, mild-mannered reporter…a  Clark Kent in a woman’s body.

Let’s start off just by talking about her hats. These were artworks in themselves. Her best known is the Ceremonial hat for eating Bouillabaisse (a rich, spicy stew or soup made with various kinds of fish, originally from Provence). This was no ordinary hat. It “consisted of a cork basket picked up in St Tropez and painted blue, which I covered with fishnet, a lobster’s tail, starfish and other marine objects’ 1 Well, she was friends with Salvidor Dali who had a lobster on his telephone, so I shouldn’t be all that surprised.

Eileen Agar wearing Ceremonial Hat for Eating Bouillabaisse

Yet, can I see myself stepping out the front door and even walking down the street wearing such a hat? Not on your life. That said, I have been known to stand out in my own peculiar ways. Indeed, I’ve photographed tea cups in the waves and on the beach. I’ve also photographed a huge Eeyore on the beach looking wistfully out to sea. I also bought myself a pair of pink, satin ballet slippers and attended adult ballet classes, which meant crossing over some pretty high boundaries as a middle-aged woman living with disability and chronic health. So, I have broken a few conventions in my life, and as a child, I even dressed up as a shepherd one year, because I was sick of being an angel. That really was breaking all the rules, but no one said a word.

However, there is one very clear connection I do have with Eileen Agar. That is collecting things. For years, I’ve walked along the beach collecting shells and other detritus. Indeed, not unlike Agar, I actually used these shells while making cards. I have also kept other items like the cuckoo clock parts I salvaged from the neighbours throw out pile just in case one of us goes into sculpture. Ideas were definitely ticking over, even if all this stuff is currently stuffed in drawers or stashed in the roof.

Oh yes. Before I forget, there’s also the old piano currently sitting in our lounge room. As you may be aware, you can‘t even give a piano away these days, but I have plans to give this ailing piano a makeover and turn it into something else. Indeed, this piano has “POTENTIAL” written all over it.

Just like me.

When it comes to Agar’s works, I struggled to find anything I could really connect with. While I like a bit of surrealism, I also like to know what I’m looking at or at least have some clues. I just didn’t get that with most of her work. I didn’t get that spark, that intensity of feeling or any sense of identification. The closest I came was Head of Dylan Thomas, which I really do like after all and if I cut it out and stuck it to my wall, I know I’d love it. It’s just that trying to get through 26 artists in a month is a daunting task, especially when I’m tackling new artists just to fill in letters of the alphabet.

Yet, after reading about the colourful and effervescent life she led, it has made me wonder what we’d be like if each of us could be a 100% unadulterated version of ourselves, unimpeded by social conventions, expectations and our own inhibitions. Would we also be swinging from the chandeliers with the likes of Agar and Dali? Or, would we still be exactly who we are?

However, being creative isn’t just about breaking boundaries and social norms. It isn’t just about being consumed by the creative process, but being unable to live in the so-called “real world” either. There is a balance and some of those restraints are a good thing…a necessary evil. I do believe there needs to be some kind of balance, although I’m not always good at achieving this myself.

Lastly, there’s one very strong distinction between Eileen Agar and myself. Agar chose to remain childless to pursue her art, while I decided to get married and we have two kids and now three dogs, who are almost just as much work.

That’s something I’m going to think about as I explore these dead artists. How many of them married and had children…a family? Indeed, does an artist have the capacity to have two loves? Or, does art have to be all-consuming flame for you to make it to the top? Or, are there personality traits in these artists which aren’t well suited to long term relationships and the responsibilities of parenthood? As many parents know, parenthood is all-consuming. It’s very hard to switch off and it’s the same with the creative drive. It can be all-consuming.

It’s something to think about.

Each of us has our own choices to make.

By the way, I thought Sia’s Chandelier was the perfect musical accompaniment for Eileen Agar. What do you think?

A Letter to Eileen Agar

Dear Eileen,

I am currently writing a series of letters to Dead Artists who have inspired me in some way. As it turns out, we’ve only just met after The Tate Gallery matched us up. However, I don’t think we’re about to run off into the sunset together yet. I have reservations.

That said, I quite fancy your Head of Dylan Thomas and I was wondering if you’d mind painting my head like that with a bird’s eye view through to my thoughts.

Indeed, perhaps I should have a go myself. I think my version would have something of Van Gogh’s Starry Night inside with all those enigmatic swirls of turbulence. I also like your idea of using collage and sticking bit on. I’ll need to give this a bit of thought and get back to you.

While others would probably ask you a question more pointed to your art, mine is addressing the psychological aspects. Did you ever feel self-conscious wearing your fancy hats, like the Ceremonial Hat for Eating Bouillabaisse? Were you ever concerned that people would laugh, and you’d be ridiculed? Or, do you have a thicker skin and couldn’t care? You really must’ve had a sense of presence, very much like your friend Salvador Dali.

I wish I could be more expressive and let a little more of myself out of the bag. I always feel I have to hold it all back. Keep smiling. Clean house, happy kids. Sometimes, it feels like all that Spray and Wipe can even wash away your very self. Yet, I know what it’s like to be laughed at. Ridiculed. I try to avoid it if I can.

I’m looking forward to hearing from you!

Best wishes,

Rowena

A Reply From Eileen Agar

Dear Rowena,

Thank you so much for your unexpected letter.

“I have spent my life in revolt against convention, trying to bring colour and
light and a sense of the mysterious to daily existence. But the English urge
towards philistinism is impossible to avoid, though one may fight it root and
branch. One must have a hunger for new colour, new shapes and new possibilities
of discovery.”

Rowena, don’t be afraid of yourself. Most people shoot themselves in both feet before anyone else has even taken aim.

By the way, we have more in common than you think.

Amelia Mad Hatter Cake

If you put your daughter’s Mad Hatter Birthday Cake next to my Ceremonial Hat for Eating Bouillabaisse, there’s more than just a passing likeness. Indeed, I might make myself a new Cafe Hat. Something with little cups and saucers stuck on top.

By the way, do you think you could include a packet of Tim Tams in your next letter please? I’d like to try a Tim Tam explosion. It sounds very indulgent and just my thing.

Outrageously yours,

Eileen Agar

Featured image: Head  of Dylan Thomas, Tate Gallery, London.

 

Blow My Candles Out! Carrot Ranch Fiction.

“Happy Birthday, Honey. I’ve checked all the ingredients. Even your cardiologist says it’s fine…gluten free, sugar free, fat free.” Sue tried hard to smile. “So, you can have your cake and eat it too.”

“So, what IS in it?” Richard growled, longing for Nigella’s Nutella Cake instead. As much as he loved his wife and family, he wasn’t sure it was worth coming back for this new life with all its restrictions. He couldn’t even breathe without asking for permission first.

“Carrot cake? I am NOT a horse! I’m off to the pub. You can blow my candles out!”

……

Every week, Charli over at Carrot Ranch hosts a flash fiction challenge where you write 99 words to a prompt.

March 16, 2018, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about carrot cake. It can be classic or unusual. Why is there cake? How does it feature in the story. Go where the prompt leads.

Respond by March 20, 2018, to be included in the compilation (published March 21). Rules are here. All writers are welcome!

 

The Silent Bomb- Carrot Ranch.

It was Henry’s tenth birthday and strangely his big sister, Kate, was only too happy to bake his cake. Indeed, she even suggested Mum took Henry out for a special, birthday milkshake.

Mum was so proud of her thoughtful daughter, that she jumped onto Facebook: “Proudest Mum moment. World’s Best Daughter! Milkshakes with Henry, while Kate’s baking Henry’s Birthday Cake.”

Meanwhile, Kate carefully cut out the middle of the cake. Blew up the balloon, stuck it inside and smothered the lot in chocolate icing. The bulging cake might have looked nine months pregnant, but at least it didn’t tick.

……

March 8, 2018, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that features a balloon. It can be a party balloon or a hot air balloon. How does it add to your story? Go where the prompt leads.

Respond by March 13, 2018, to be included in the compilation (published March 14). Rules are here. All writers are welcome!

xx Rowena

Puppies of Mass Destruction.

“Once you begin being naughty, it is easier to go on and on, and sooner or later something dreadful happens”

Laura Ingalls Wilder

This afternoon, I had this dreadful sense of deja vu when I woke up from a nap and the lounge room was a scene of carnage. Reminiscent of a raging toddlers dosed up on red cordial and fairy bread, the pups had ripped MORE stuffing out of their bed, torn apart a packet of picture hooks which was nowhere near the floor, and also devoured the cover of my daughter’s DVD Mean Girls. The DVD itself being all shiny, must’ve been considered booty, because I found it outside. It almost looks okay, and I could possibly pass it off without our daughter erupting. Well, that is, if you ignore the tiny little indentations left by canine teeth. Oh! That’s right. Rosie, also chewed up another pink highlighter pen, although this time it didn’t explode all over her paws and it just smeared the carpet.

“Love children especially, for they too are sinless like the angels; they live to soften and purify our hearts and, as it were, to guide us.”
― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Brothers Karamazov

DSC_8401

It would be easy to say that it was all tantrum, but I bet they were just looking for something to do just like my kids when they were small and started painting the kitchen with food dye and water. I can’t remember other exploits offhand but there were many. Indeed, enough that I should’ve thought twice about having two pups, instead of one.

“Grown-ups never understand anything by themselves, and it is tiresome for children to be always and forever explaining things to them”
Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

DSC_8397

However, that’s what happens when you suddenly find out you’re having twins. You can’t send one packing. Although Zac and Rosie are brother and sister and you don’t usually consider pups from the same litter “twins”, these two have bonded closely ever since they first arrived as fosters. It was never our intention to keep them both. However, we couldn’t pick between them, and then they sort of morphed into one dog with two entities if that makes any sense.

“I would recommend to those persons who are inclined to stagnate, whose blood is beginning to thicken sluggishly in their veins, to try keeping four dogs, two of which are puppies.”

– Elizabeth von Arnum

DSC_8389.JPG

Yet, as much as Zac and Rosie are twins, they also have their idiosyncrasies.  Rosie is a real chewer and is very destructive, but also incredibly curious and smart. She sees something new, and she’s instantly checking it out and trying to see how it works. Zac is very affectionate and quite a lap dog and is uber-obsessed with chasing balls and what now remains of their rope toy (which isn’t much!!)

“In order to really enjoy a dog, one doesn’t merely try to train him to be semi human. The point of it is to open oneself to the possibility of becoming partly a dog.”

-Edward Hoagland

DSC_8404.JPG

Meanwhile, Lady thinks the pups are great, because she can do no wrong. Indeed, Lady had become “The Saint”. That’s quite a change from when she first arrived and used to get up onto the kitchen table stealing food and being a houdini escape artist. She doesn’t jump all over hapless visitors either. As I said, she can do no wrong…as long as you’re not expecting her to chase a ball or pass an IQ test. Then, she’d better start wagging her tail and giving you the look. After all, she certainly knows how to maximise her good looks.

Zac & Rosie

Rose (Left) and Zac aged 6 weeks.

Meanwhile, I think back to when two sleeping pups had just arrived at our place and know…

“Happiness is a warm puppy.”
― Charles M. Schulz

What have you and your dog been up to this week? Does your dog have any confessions? If so, dob in your dog in the comments below.

xx Rowena