I had half a mind to continue over the windows but thought better of it...
needless to say I had architectural nightmares
welcome to the *urban dis.turban.ce featuring pav&eep...my alter-ego.
"The freckled face of Rooney appeared on field, as if fresh from the pages of the Beano..."
Back. (So it wasn't exactly 'shortly' but who's counting...)
Hello out there... This post is brought to you from yonder... in the sky... to be more precise, lets see... I’m now above Tekirdag (which is on the coast of the Sea of Mamara, of course), near Istanbul.... but not for long, only 8646km and 9 hrs to get to Singapore, then another few to Adelaide! Its apparently -52 degrees outside (nice) and we’re travelling at 620mph, 10,000 m above sea level.
“...London wasn’t the first city I’d lived in, but it was certainly the largest. Anywhere else there is always the chance of seeing someone you know, or at the very least, a smiling face. Not here. Commuters crowd the trains, eager to outdo their fellow travellers in an escalating privacy war of paperbacks, headphones and newspapers….”
(Recent installation exhibited in December at Event:space gallery, Bethnal Green.)
I happened to find myself in Venice last month so, of course, went along to the Biennale. They were handing out free Illy coffee pods at the entrance which I thought kind of absurd (presumably I'm supposed to suck it for a caffeine buzz?); the old tin of mushy peas without a tin-opener conundrum. On wondering around, I stumbled upon a big shiny Illy espresso machine... et voila; coffee pod + coffee machine = you got it, fresh espresso! (Ok, so not all that fresh, considering it was from a pod). Yes, great marketing Illy, I must commend you.
"Was New Labour really so different? Refresh your memory of the previous version by looking at John Prescott — the pantomime socialist thug conveniently retained by Mr Blair in the meaningless post of deputy prime minister to appease the old guard. Mr Prescott, virtually invisible during this campaign, was the party Mr Blair inherited. Ponder that, look at the party now, and see how far it has come."
“What about the dog Bim? And the chickens; they are to be fed”
"I'm siphoning gas from the high school bus
Hey I'm back. Its strange, the last time I posted, must have been at uni - the busier I became the more time there was to blog. Ok so that doesn't seem rational; thus is life. Been relativley chilled out over the summer (relativey, being the operative word), hence the shortfall of posts (just to follow through on that curious logic).
Apparently this is my political compass - see how you fare at www.politicalcompass.org - there is some interesting research on the site
I had a sudden pang of realisation… observing my room, as I sit at my rolled aluminium and tempered glass desk, pushing plastic buttons adorned with the semiotic nomenclature of communication. Those cast plastic nodules conveniently click back into position; encouraged by sitting atop little domed rubber membranes fighting the unequivocal ‘constant’ that is gravity… everything around me is made, is processed by man, nothing here exists in its natural state, myself excluded? But that, I cover with textile, I douse in chemicals; I am human yet...
Oh Lord won't you buy me.... a triumph GT6 Mark II? (Perhaps a little more realistic than a Merc. on my wages anyway)
Read something recently about Bush releasing his iPod tracklist... an attempt to pretend that he's human, perhaps?
Hmm, just checking out how to post a pic on this thing...
I'm into the wee hours of the morning doing some work for a tutorial tomorrow... came across this video (whilst taking a tea break, of course, which actually tastes rather rank, but that’s another story) - a must see!
Im doing a project to design a 'cultural institution' at the moment which has thrown up a lot of questions regarding identity politics and 'difference'. I decided to look at my own identity as a Sikh and to use this to inform the design of a cultural centre which would specifically cater for the needs of the contemporary Sikh demographic. So what better place to choose my site than Southall in West London; it was the primary point of settlement for the Punjabi Sikhs coming into the UK in the 50s and 60s. (Oh, if you're interested I must plug Dennis Morris's book, Southall; A Home From Home, a great collection of photos from that period - yeah, Morris is the guy who also travelled with and photographed the Sex Pistols and Marley!)
hello all... So, this is my first attempt at 'blogging', I probably shan't get to post that often for now (no great loss, indeed) as I'm busy with my finals... Here I come 'real world'!