The upsides and downsides to living by yourself

Okay.

I'd originally given this one a different title, but things worked out differently. Same as how I was all set to blog through the residency and then that kind of went to pot amid the fifteen other things I was so certain I could get done while I was there.

But let's try and chuck up another blog post. It's late, but I've only just taken off my shoes. The scent of my socks should keep me up for a bit.

For context, I moved out of my family house in 2010/2011 to head to Newie for uni. Because I am king of figuring accommodation, I moved down with a friend from home and we took up residence in a tiny granny flat owned by a family friend of mine. Bec and I shared this space for two and a half years, and we juggled all the things that come from living with people who are not your family, things like remembering to clean up, or explain why you do something the way you do.

The space we had was a little tight for two, but we managed. It was nice, if only from my end because I'm messy and Bec was forgiving.

And then in June Bec moved out into another sharehouse closer to the uni and everyone from unichurch - this place is out in southwest Newcastle and it takes half an hour to get most places. I carry odd things in my car because there's rarely a chance to go home and come back if I've forgotten something silly like a coat or sunscreen.

In a way, it was kind of handy, because I'd already gone nocturnal for assessments, and my mess was everywhere, so I didn't feel the pressure of having to tidy up.

And then I had a breakup and a car accident, and things started to get quiet.

I think I may have stabilised in the months since; at least I'd like to think that. I mean, there's upsides and there's downsides to living by yourself.

Of course, the landlord and his son still live upstairs (it's an odd arrangement), so pants are still important on days I'm home. (Pants will always be important, for the record.)

But I can do things like listen to whatever music I want and not have to check and see if the housemate is okay with four hours of Anberlin.

I can eat fish. For a cat lover, Bec was never very keen on the seafood business.

There's no one to complain about the mess, or who has to daily navigate it. That's probably a problem of mine that has surfaced from having a large family with plenty of eccentricities. I'm just used to being messy. I don't like it, but I'm used to it, and that's how ants happen.

If I stuff up the laundrey, it's my fault.

In fact, if I stuff up anything, it's kind of my fault.

Except for yesterday evening, when I arrived home and the landlord informed me that the washing machine didn't have the overflow pipe put into the drainpipe properly (he's replacing something in our shared laundrey) and as a result the laundrey flooded. So did my kitchen. I store things on the floor.

I sighed, and checked how much water was everywhere. Floor needed washing, I guess.

But I digress.

Living by yourself can seem like a lot of fun, but it also equates to a lot of frozen food, because cooking for one is one of the sadder and useless things that happens in life. Much cheaper to cook fifteen meals at once and alternate between green and yellow curry for three weeks. Although, there's other things that stem out of that too.

I guess the only and biggest disadvantage to living by myself has been...being left with the inside of my head.

Insert picture from Photomedia portrait exercises.
Credit to Ben Van Gessel

It's a weird place to be, and in the passing months, it's really only gotten weirder. It's kind of what happens when you don't have anyone to tell you that that kind of thinking is a bit weird and maybe you need to go outside for a bit. There's talking to self, and cackling, and don't get me started on the arguments.

But that's kind of a problem too.

As the eldest, my problem is that I measure success by comparison. If I'm doing better than average, I'm okay. (Weird logic, again). There's a bucket more of things that that thought is attached to, but it kind of equates to a voice in my head that is me, and calls me things like 'uselessface' because I don't have a job or career or spouse and everyone surely must have it together because they have those things. I bet they can get everything on their 'To do' lists done too.

And don't tell me that that's not how it works, because this is how my head works.

It's not a great place to be.

It's being mad at yourself for being so poorly disciplined, and being late for everything because of that lax in discipline, but at the same time being unable to do anything to make that better.

It's trying desperately to not get depressed over having social plans flop because it was your one shot at social interaction that week and everyone else must have just had better things to do.

It's not being able to write a blog post without chucking in self depreciating stuff and then trying to write it off as a joke.

heh.

It's over-analysing everything other people do and say because you've gotten used to not interacting with anybody and can't remember how people work.

"Is that guy trying to have a crack at me? I don't know. Don't be silly Brooke-akfjheprighptisuhprkh?"

It's going home to an empty house when you grew up in a home with five other people who were all noisier and less weird than you.

Except that it's not really an empty house. It's a house with very little to distract from that voice that reminds me of how hard I fail at life.

I guess living by yourself would probably be not as problematic if you were not me. Or didn't have to live inside my head.

Hmm.

On a brighter note, semester has started up again. I'm hoping it'll be too busy for me to go crazy. Crazier. After that, Brooke Gets A Job and Will Move Into A Sharehouse and Hopefully Will Be Able To Readjust To Normal People and Possibly Society As Well.

Either that or I'll go bush and turn into a feral wild girl with flat feet and hair that gets snagged on everything. Sounds grand.

This is what happens when you don't write for two weeks.

Apologies in advance. Time has been running away from me and I haven't updated the blog in a while. So, this post will cover the adventures of week 9, 10, and something interesting I discovered last week and thought that it would be interesting to write about. Anyway. Read on.

WEEK 9

So. This week's update. Or something.

Yesterday, I finished (at long last) the paper patterns for the Halo armour.

Things kind of went on hold for the last week and a half, since I had assessments coming out my ears and I don't even know what else. Oh yeah. I was sick.

And now it feels like my body is trying to figure out what else it can debilitate me with while I head on. Seriously. I think this week's meals will be a combination of Bonjela and jelly and custard this week. Wisdom teeth.

This weekend just past, I didn't achieve an iota of work, since my family was moving house and there was no way I was going to not help my family move. There was a lot of heavy lifting, cleaning of ick things and juggling of stuff and people. And the fun of handling a figurative bomb for all of Saturday. Let's not talk about that.

So, there was a cubic metre of dirt, and Mum and Dad finally threw out the fridge double that they'd had for ages and I painted. It was a project I undertook in 2006, and the fridges were old as buckleys when I painted them. They'd just started to rust through and had failing seals and smelled funny. But they were actually my first big art project, so it was interesting and a little sad seeing them go.

<I have a progress shot of it at the beginning...somewhere...>

Shortly before the tip

Mum said that when they can, her and Dad want to get another fridge for the garage though. And she wants me to paint exactly the same artwork on it. Because it carries a lot of feels and she liked it.

My mother is absolutely ruthless when throwing things out during moving season. It means a lot for her to say 'please do this one again because I like the artwork, even if the functional item it is on isn't useful anymore'

Not bad for a transferred piece of promo art for a GBA game.

And yeah, you have to be ruthless when throwing things out during moving season. This does mean that I end up a little stressed, because a lot of my stuff which is still kind of important gets thrown out as well, and if I'm not home to make sure that doesn't happen, then all kinds of things go.

I'm pretty sure my quarterstaff got chucked, since I can't find it.

I guess this is one of the challenges of having just moved out of home (I've been out for a couple years, but hey). I don't have anywhere to put my books, for example. I have a shelf and a half of the landlord's bookcase, and that's it. Please don't throw out my TAFE work, Mum. I'll move it when I have space.

Anyway. I've probably just told you a bunch of stuff that isn't that interesting. Except maybe for the fridge.

Where am I up to with the everything else?

The armour went on hold. I will regret this soon enough - for reasons beyond my comprehension, it's now week 9. I've still got another costume for Directed Studies due, which I'm fairly sure I can knock over in a week or two, provided I don't have anything else to do.

Provided I don't have anything else to do.

Sorry. Got things to do right now.

Lo and behold. Things were done.

WEEK 10

So. What happened in the week just past?
I finished the forearms in foam, and managed to gain a better grasp of how long things take, or at least, be able to break up the tasks and therefore time for each armour piece.

So, the forearm (Vambrace from here on. The right one.) took about five hours to assemble in paper (because it was the first one, and I wasn't entirely sure what I was doing)

And then I disassembled it, and it took two hours to trace out the larger pieces onto foam (tracing each piece out twice, so I had a pair of them)

It took an hour and a half to cut these pieces out.

And another two hours to shape them.

At this stage, I'll explain what I mean by that. Rather than folding the foam to give it shape, I have to score into it, as it's too bulky for simply folding. I cut a small groove on one side and then score a line on the opposing side of the foam. If it's a mountain fold, the score is on the face side and the groove is on the underside - a valley fold is just this reversed.
I'll also take this time to bevel edges of pieces if they need it, or cut details into them, like rivet holes or indents. I started doing all of this with my large box cutter, and then realised that detailing was much easier with a smaller one. So I have two knives going on this. And you notice when the blades become blunt.

And then I kind of crease those shaping cuts in, and glue the bad boy together. It took two hours to glue together the vambraces - an hour each.

Featuring hot glue and burnt fingers

And the assembling time for the paper was only an estimate. So, just on this one section of armour, I've spent at least ten hours to get from paper to foam. Haven't painted them yet either.

It's now more than ever I realise the enormity of this task. Like, I've been realising it all through semester, but it's now that I am sitting in the camp of 'I'm wasting so much time on this armour' and 'this is just really time consuming stuff'

I'll get it done in time. I'm just worried because I also have another three practical things to finish, plus paper and an assessment for a theory subject that's worth 70%.

I'm gonna die.

But.

Tonight, as I try to prolong the effects of downing two coffees at church so allow for blogging, which I haven't done in ages, I also take in what has been achieved. Because I went and actually tried what I had on, in conjunction with the wetsuit I bought for the task, and felt a little better about everything. Maybe not about  about the wetsuit currently (Op shop find. It's about a size too small. I'm cutting vent panels in it to allow it to stretch/breathe/not kill me), but about seeing progress. I really, really need to get this done.

Any minions wishing to volunteer themselves for assistance will be given baked treats. I can make a mean mudcake.

What else happened over the course of this week?

Evangelion.

The Japan Foundation is an organisation based in Sydney that promotes cross-cultural stuff and shenanigans. Earlier this year, or late last year (I can't remember which), there was notice of a travelling exhibition of stuff related to the Rebuild of Evangelion, which is a series of films happening at the moment, retelling the story arc of Neon Genesis Evangelion, a mind-blowing mecha anime from the mid-90s, orchestrated by Hideaki Anno.

The show was only in Sydney for a week, so I caught the train down on Friday and checked it out.

If you want to see the thing I am yabbering about, hit that link there.

http://www.jpf.org.au/jpfevents/13-evangelion/

The works presented were mostly stills/storyboards from the first two movies (You are (not) alone, and You can (not) advance), presented in a vertical diptych. So, the drawing was framed up, and then beneath it was the corresponding frame from the relevant scene in the anime printed on foamcore, so you could see what the original frame looked like.

I'd show you a picture if I had taken any. There was a strict 'no photos' thing going on, so you'll just have to bear with me on it.

I was amazed at the quality of work, and intrigued as well, because..well, I guess the essence of anime-compared-to-real-life, aside from the odd proportioning, is how simple the lines are and how complex an area they cover. I don't know how to explain that otherwise. Um.

Oh. Hey, Shinji.

This is Shinji Hirako, of Bleach (Which is of Tite Kubo). As he appears in the manga, because the manga goes in for all these little details that you don't notice in the anime adaptions because they're either forgotten or taken up by shading so your eyes don't register them.

Look at his shirt. Look at it. There's like, a couple of tiny lines thrown in here and there, and suddenly it looks like the flipping thing is busy being fabric.

The Evangelion exhibition allowed me to appreciate in detail one of the more subtle things about anime and manga; basically, you can use small and simple lines to delineate something, and the mind fills in the rest. It's brilliant.

Seeing frames from the animation also let me notice a few other things. They were rarely on white paper (unless it was a closeup of a face or something), and were usually on a light green or brown or blue. I think white paper scares artists a little, so that makes sense. It would have also had something to do with colour scanning and photocopying, I think, owing to how the frames were shaded.

There was no finished colour added to them, so there were lines put in that basically meant 'cel shade here and here and here. Fill this area with black, and this area with white'. And then some rough hatching to cover the shaded area. It looked odd, because it was obvious that so much more time had been spent getting the lines right and the colour stuff looked like an afterthought. But it wasn't. It's just that this wasn't the stage when the colour needed to be added, so placement was a little rough.

Ack. Sorry. I'm going small picture with this. Bear with me.

There was also a video display showing scenes from the second movie in a split screen format, which allowed the viewer to simultaneously see how things in the scene looked at story board level, rough lines, rough colour, full colour, and finished movie. There must have been some things in there I missed, because the number of split screens going ranged at times from four to twelve. Which freaked your head out, because you were trying to process a lot of information at the same time, but was really cool to see the evolution of the film at the same time. I mean, that's not something you actually get to see with live-action films, because most of the stuff is there when the camera is rolling (unless you're shooting something that's got a buttload of green screen or something).

But when an anime gets made, the whole film gets made in several renditions, so you can view those renditions side-by-side and appreciate them and the finished product a whole lot more.

Look, if I go out and actually get :01 and :02 sometime in the future, I'll try and make you watch them, and then the special features. Pretty sure you'd get to see some of what I'm yabbering incoherently about.


Actually, have a scene of EVA 00, 01 and 02 against a falling-from-space alien/the 8th Angel. I apologise for the English dub - would have used a subbed version if it was there. This really just lets you see how enormous the EVA are and thusly cool. And I got to see stacks of clips from this scene at the exhibition.

Okay. It was cool. Next thing.

I was aspiring to maybe visit White Rabbit gallery too, until I got back to Central station and realised that I had an hour before my train left, and in that time would have to walk to the gallery, tour the gallery, and walk back. I instead wandered the train station and speed-drew people I saw while walking, deciding that maybe it would be more constructive than running around like a chicken with its head cut off.

Soon. I will do White Rabbit soon.

Ack.

What else happened this week? Hmm.

#thingsovershadowedbyJo'shaircut

I had a mate turn 21, and attended his 'disguise'-themed party as an elf-kind-of-thing. Because it's actually really confusing when you tell a cosplayer to come in disguise.

'But this is what I do all the time. How the heck am I supposed to be disguised?'

I kind of just threw together a whole bunch of things and it worked. And I got my hair under a wig. With only two hairpins, since I'd misplaced my box of the flipping things.

Appreciate that wigging it up is difficult when you have hair that you frequently and accidentally sit on, okay?

The birthday boy cut his hair, which is just...ack...yahhhhh what the heck?

Evidently, I still need to adjust. But he went from shoulder-length super-curly plus beard to a number 4 and no beard. It worked as a disguise though - he and one of his housemates wore full-face masks and each others clothing and rings, and it was only when I looked at the hands I went 'they're wrong.' and then there was the hair missing too.

Hopefully, this will only take a couple of weeks to get used to. There's another lad at unichurch who just shaved his long hair off too. I don't cope well with change. But haircuts are not something I get to dictate for other people.

Okay. Let's talk about the next thing.

SOMETHING I NOTICED ABOUT ARTISTS EARLIER THIS WEEK

Now, if you read this post, you'll get to see a bit of where I'm coming from with this bit of the post.

But in essence, the lecture for one of my theory subjects this week was on 'breaking down boundaries' or something. The lecture talked heavily about an exhibition called 'dOCUMENTA', which is like a giant art exhibition done by people who are artists and people who are not artists.

And there's some mediation for the artworks presented by the non-artists, but not much. Basically, there were artworks installed that were working things built by engineers or physicists or garden designers that had a function outside of being art, and we spent about half of the tutorial following with my classmates and the argument 'is what they're doing art?'

To which I present my argument:

You cannot say that art is open-minded and encapsulating of everything, and then decide that by 'open-minded' you actually mean 'something you can hang on a wall or put in a gallery'.

The gallery bit in particular gets me. It's something that kind of cropped up with the Street Art argument - that people would remove street art from its environment and stick it in a gallery and then it's definitely 'art'? Nope. It's a paradox.

I think in part it stems from an understanding of the subject, and understood aesthetics. An artist will appreciate art because it conforms to a certain set of aesthetics, but an engineer will use a completely different set of aesthetics to determine whether or not something is beautiful or functional; whatever. I think this issue has more to do with understanding the rules of the artwork. 

The art world saw it happen in the nineteen-tens, when abstract art first popped up - we were used to things looking like things, from before Modernism to Impressionism to Post-Impressionism, especially in the painting world. There was all these artworks that popped up, and all these people in the art world going 'what the heck is this stuff?' and now that we're a few years down the track, there's an established set of rules that the art world has learned in order to appreciate abstract art, and every art movement that followed. 

It's something I reckon that is like a secret handshake, or that thing that the guys on the bus used to do when I was in year 7 - playing 'Snap is the name of the game'; some kind of special code that only artists understand and feel cool about because they know that the rest of the world doesn't get it. And then someone explains Blue Shift to them and because they don't understand astrophysics, they say 'this cannot be art. I don't understand it.'

I didn't say all of this in the tute, but it's kind of what I feel and think.

Art is busy claiming that it's open, but the work that people actually see - the stuff in galleries - in fact is dictated by whether or not it's made by a 'professional artist', which means 'someone who is paid to create art'.

Which is kind of like saying that only professional photographers can take good photos, or professional drivers can drive properly.

I have friends who create art, and it's good art, but they don't receive payment for their works.
I have friends who can take amazing photos, but it's not necessarily a living. It's actually pretty hard to eke a living purely from taking photos.

This, to a degree, is why I have a difficult time, even in my own head, of classifying what I do as art, because costume serves a physical purpose beyond hanging in a gallery, and therefore only borderlines as art.
Just get the paradox sorted out, is my call. Otherwise you end up with this asterisk sitting at the end of your sentence, and it might be attached to something vitally important down the track.*



...
...This is rather abrupt, and rough, and probably ruffling-of-the-feathers. Apologies. I'm rambling. Because it's late, and I'm coming off the butt end of the caffiene high, and my teeth hurt, and a billion other excuses that equate to Tomorrow is Monday of week 11.

Okay. Bring it on. I've got things to do. Just let me sleep enough to function.

*which might affect how you practice art or get paid at all.

Drive and Burnout

For reasons unbeknownst, this post actually has nothing to do with cars. I mean, it could. I could begin to talk about how Sutto reckons I don't have 'GTi love' (He's one of the other Suzuki Swift drivers at church) and how I argue back that I do and it's different to his appreciation of the machines (it is). Or we could talk about how this really just proves that I am way too willing to rise to a goading.

"Sutto, You merely adopted the GTi love. I was born in it."

But this post isn't about cars.

This post is about Animania, an anime convention held in Sydney in March and September. It kind of relates to a couple of other blog posts that I've made before, so if you want to do some extra reading you can check out my post on Animania here, or the other themes of this post here, or the rest of my university work that's related to Bleach and the concept of the Hollow here. (And there. And everywhere.)

Now that I've just done a considerable amount of plugging for the blog, and you can see how much I've written about Bleach, I can assume that you'll be up to speed when I start talking.

Also, uni.

Directed Studies is taking up a lot of my mental space. I end up doing the headless chicken thing over it. The headless chicken thing is basically "oh man I have this much stuff to do in this amount of time and theresnotenoughtimetodoanythingwhattheheckamIsupposedtodoohcrapohcrapohcrap"
Part of that is my newest and biggest thing, which will be the topic of the next blog post, and part of this is trying to get Animania's costume done in time.

I mean, the one I'm taking down is Ichigo again. September's effort. But it was so well received  I kind of decided to see if I could enter it in the cosplay competition Animania runs, and March Animania is a bit smaller (and therefore the cosplay competition pool is smaller, right? *laughs nervously*). So, I have a costume to take. I'm just trying to tweak it; make it better and more streamlined. More scary?

I dunno. But I bought yellow contact lenses for it, and I'm wearing them now, and the whole world is a little hazy for it because my eyes are going what is this thing sitting on my eyeballs and every time I walk past a reflective surface my mind is going what in the blue hell is wrong with my eyes?

Friiiiick. I've lost the adapter for my phone memory card again. That thing is going to take ages to find again.

Wait. Here it is.

So I guess it's kind of working. How it will turn out when I add it to the face paint and mask/helmet I can't tell.

But at the moment, this is kind of taking up all of my mental space. And at the same time I'm remembering that hey, you have admin stuff to do for that, huh? And it's not fun.

But.

Animania is next Saturday. I'm putting in the entry form tonight, so I don't forget and miss out like I did last year. And hopefully everything will be together and I'll have one less thing to worry about.

So, my current dilemma is mostly this:

*Also, spoilers and stuff for the storyline of Bleach. Just a heads up.*

Ichigo, for those who don't follow Bleach, is a bloke.

The state in which I am cosplaying him has him in a berserker state. He's battle-damaged, and busy being not human. Busy being hollow and kerb-stomping the fourth Espada. By battle-damaged, I mean this:

Now, the casually observant person might note that giant pointy mask and hole-in-the-chest aside, he's not wearing anything on his chest. Generally, this is not a problem for guys.

I approached the problem and solved it thus:

And torn sleeve was extended to torn-bit-of-fabric-top-for-practicality-and-common-decency.

Now. This challenge that I'm rolling with at the moment stems from a couple things.

1. I want to cosplay it better/closer to accurate.
2. I'm going down by myself and not having to cover my own back in body paint would be handy.

This week I sat down and sewed a form-fitting, long sleeve top, with the hopes of getting that to stand in and do the white-skin and bare-chest business. I was just planning to kind of strap myself into it and away we'd go. But the top didn't quite work out as well as planned.

So now, I either have to do some extra tailoring to it, or do some more thinking.

I could do the same as before, with the top in white and some black stripes across it.
Or I could keep trying with the white all-in top.

But I don't have enough fabric to do both, or do one and then change if it doesn't work halfway.

Of course, I could go 'stuff all of this' and take the pre-existing top anyway.
But probably not.

I dunno. I really want to keep it looking accurate, but at the same time don't want to sacrifice how I look for that more than I have to. I mean, I'm not seven foot tall and built like a tank anyway. Even if I manage to get the top sorted, I'm still 163cm tall, with a slightly pudgy stomach and hips and waist that could never pass for male. So should I bother?

The other challenge I have to consider is making the hollow hole look more like a hole. I'm working on something with mirrors, and am pretty sure I can get that to work at least. It really just needs something rigid I can fix it to, and then I'll pop a short tube/lip thing over it and extend the amount of black space and hey presto! Hole!

I realise that this doesn't make a whole lot of sense reading like this, but my head is making a card house out of tesseracts at the moment and isn't fussed with trying to explain.

Oh yeah. You should totally check out what a tesseract is. Best wikipedia sidetrack I've had in a long time.

But I digress.

The top is my current situation. I've also got to repair the jaw (it got squashed a little on the way home in Spetember), make some alterations to the mouth, and try and get some spiny-knuckle-prosthetics. I have foam and latex, and I'm not afraid to use it.

And this time. THIS time, I will remember to bring the body paint I bought and not get twenty minutes on the train and remember I left it at home.

In conclusion?

I'm going to a convention next week. It's going to relate to Directed Studies, because culture and costumes and documentation and stuff. I've still got a lot of things to do. My brain has been operating at 150% and has started making the kind of warning sounds that say 'you should probably pull over and change the oil now.'
But hey. Sleep when you're dead, right?

If anyone wants to give me their opinion on how to finish the top on this costume, please do so. The blogs are set up to allow non-bloggers to comment. And even if you want to log in, you can do it with a google account, I believe.

Okay. One blog post down. Let's jump onto the next thing.

Hollow//Redux

In August, I went and posted an entry that I'd written way back at the start of the year. The post in question was ambiguous, and odd, and unfocused, but I thought that it might deserve a little bit of clarification/closure now that Animania has finished for this year. The post in question concerned the fictional monsters called Hollow from Manga and Anime series Bleach.


Because I've posted so many times about it, I don't see a need to explain the plot. Maybe a little bit about how the monsters work, but that's all.

The post I'd written was a reflection on how I had tried to cope with losing something valuable at the start of 2011 by giving up on trying to feel things. On having emotional responses and instead just doing things because instinct told me to.

This had upsides and downsides. It meant that I didn't really feel the fallout of the loss until a couple months after everything had gone down (which isn't to say it hurt less; it was only delaying the inevitable), and it meant that I was able to keep functioning at nearly the same level as before. Or at least, to a level where I wouldn't be a drag on other people.
The downside of not allowing yourself to think or feel, and instead to run on instinct, is that humans are inherently selfish and broken people. We're not perfect. We mess up and if I was to follow my instinct all of the time, it would have just spiraled into this out-of-control, self-serving mess and I would have hurt a lot of friends in the process.

So in short, allowing myself to be hollow for most of last year was something that was do-able, but ultimately wouldn't hold out. It was this big ball of lucid, angry emptiness and as enticing as it was, I'm kind of glad that I don't have to be there any more.

See? This is what happens when you put the wrong focus in your heart and it gets ripped out.
One big ol' hole and something you have to hide behind.

It's taken a while, but I'm getting better.

So, that's kind of a recap on that post. A little more focused, a little less ambiguous. I'm trying to leave it as ambiguous because when this blog got started, I didn't want it to turn into a 'Dear Diary' shermozzle. So it's a matter of figuring out what personal things are okay to talk about and which are not necessary, so you still get cool posts that have more than just cats in them.

Where are we going?

Oh yes. Animania is done, and now I'm trying to figure out how much it's okay to have my friends freak out over me dressing up as a monster on Saturday and having the photos turn up on social networking sites with my name attached to them.

Because my costume was kind of freaky. I did go as a Hollow.

Why?

Because it's how I face the things I get scared of. Infiltrate and disarm from the inside out. It's why I did Weeping Angels with my mates earlier in the year. Yes, those critters are hella scary. Yes, I have been scared of them. Yes, they still give me chills.

But I know what goes into them now. I don't have to be afraid of that anymore.

I suppose that this is where people would normally go "But Brooke, it's a fictional thing. You don't have to be afraid of it at all."

What, so you've never watched a scary movie and then left all the lights on in the house?

Most people get less scared of things by forgetting them. I'm not good at forgetting.

So when I've dressed as something scary, it's my way of coping. It's my way of disarming it. It's also how I remind myself that as a fallen being, I could actually become this if I don't watch myself. And not 'become' as in, dress up as one. I mean "put on a mask and be unable to take it off because you've assumed too many characteristics of the thing you're portraying".

And that can happen. It does happen. Maybe not with literally turning into a critter with big teeth, but socially? It's much easier to gossip when you are around other people who gossip. It's much easier to let your standards slip if you have mates who don't care about the occasional laspe.

Manifesting the scary into something that I can put on is one part of it. But being able to get to the end of the day and taking that mask off is probably the more important thing. You feel like a weight has been lifted.

(Both metaphorically and literally. Saturday's mask was heavy.)

So, my friends; to those who understand my cosplay and those who don't. Please don't freak out if or when you see me dressed up in the scariest mask you can think of. I'm just sabotaging the cool-looking things that I'm scared of.

Hollow.

January, 2012:

Hey guys. Did you miss me?

I missed you too. Unless that answer was a 'no' and then I'm not sure why exactly you're continuing reading. But carry on.

I could spend an outrageous amount of time explaining why it is I've been missing out on blogging, or we could save that for another time. It doesn't make very good material. Either way, I am now finding that my world has a little bit more time, so I'll try and blog more.

Pathetic excuses aside, I thought I might try and yak a little bit about something that immediately identifies my nerd-dom but will hopefully make decent blog material.

Have your seen/read/heard of Bleach before?

It's a manga series (there's an anime about it too) - so, a Japanese comic/cartoon/blah - about a schoolkid who can see ghosts.

Odds are, you've already heard me talk about if before if you've read the blog, or met me in person. Anyway.

The gist of the story is, the schoolkid acquires supernatural powers from the other main character - a female 'reaper', and then they and a bunch of other characters do what all the Reapers (I'm going to stick with the Japanese term for the job from now: Shinigami) do in a bunch of adventures. They send the ghosts of people to the afterlife and kill the bad spirits (called Hollows).

A Hollow is a ghost with no heart. They turn into monsters and eat other ghosts, people, Shinigami, blah blah blah. The point is that it's a Shonen manga so there's a truckload of fighting and drama and explosions and infrequent fanservice, which is frankly embarrassing even at the best of times.

But rather then spend my long preamble telling you about the Boob Lady, I kinda wanted to bring up the idea of the Hollow.

Hollows, or the theory of a Hollow, was something that I checked out earlier in the year, because I based a uni project around the idea of the mask, which relates to Hollows and the such.

Pictures explain better.

So, there is the hollow. It has a hole where the heart used to be and a mask that shields what is left of the ghost. What is left exactly? According to Kubo, the writer of the series, 'a heap of instincts'.

Hollows get to be more fun later in the series, because the main character, Ichigo, has some fairly close encounters with one particular one. I'm deliberately being vague.

What does this have to do with anything?

At the start of 2011, I had a bit of a 'life priority reshuffle'. It was needed, but it was hella painful, and for a while there, things got...interesting.

So, because the brain and the heart were playing up, I spent a lot of the year playing with and tinkering on the concept of instinct.


I did more things based on it. I allowed it to become a little more rampant, at the cost of a bit of sanity, and probably part of my reputation with my housemate. But then, housemates are spared the tediousness of interacting with the mask instead of what exactly is underneath it.

(You see what I did there?)

What I am saying is, there is no point to a mask with a housemate. Anyway, I'm drafting this when I ought to be in bed, so I hope that there's some quality still intact.

Rambling aside, this year got to be very different. And spending bits of it as a Hollow was...

...I want to and at the same time don't want to say worth it. Do you want to spend half your time running on instinct?

That's up to you.

What I found was that it was almost exactly like Ichigo's experience in dealing with...yeah. I mean, it's useful for getting out of tight spots, and berserkering is great, but a lot of the time got spent either trying to rein it in or trying to regain control.

And truth be told, there's no way that people are able to hide behind a mask for too long. The harder you try, the harder the repercussions are later. Things just...don't work.

But then, this world is fallen. Things don't ever work. And I know that choosing to live by instinct won't ever work well because eventually it just rolls around and turns into self-serving desire before biting you in the bum. Not productive.

Did I enjoy my year as a Hollow?

Some bits. The bits where I got to sit down and draw, and that was what was required for uni work, then instinct was great. Especially in an art school that pushes Abstract so much (I should put that in Comic Sans to make you understand how I feel about being told to stick to blobs all the time). You sit down, tell your brain to shut up about how much you suck, and get down to whatever it is you're working on. Good times.

Would I choose to keep living as a Hollow?

I don't think so. It's handy, but kinda messes up the psyche a lot.

Is this post one that needed a filter?

Probably.

I'm going to save this as a draft and show you tomorrow.

*Eight months later*

Gilligan-style cuts are amazing, no?

I came home for this weekend. Partly to see the folks, partly to rub my face on the owl some more, and partly to prep for Animania in September.

Anyway. I do a lot more driving by myself now. Was going to get people to come with, and then I left Newie before any of that could get organised. So I got to spend three hours yelling at myself and singing/yowling along with the Hume brothers and Florence Welch. Small cars are amazing.

I'm sorry, we'll get back on track shortly.

So, Animania. And I suddenly realised the Batman take I was having this year on making of costumes. Because earlier in the year I got to be a Weeping Angel with some mates. And in a month, have a guess at what I'm going to be?

Covered in white paint, that's what.

Tomorrow will be sit down and Handicrafts day, where I will sew my sister a trenchcoat, and she will cast a Hollow mask on my head. It will be grand.

But the concept of the Hollow, as I mentioned earlier/ages ago, is something I find intriguing. And more than a bit scary, for a variety of reasons. I think it's a reminder of what we could be if we didn't keep stuff in check.

Vague stuff FTW.

Batman? You know, dress as what frightens you. And what looks gnarly.

I've got a bit more to go before I can give a convincing Hollow scream though.

4th wall? Pfft.

I know, right. Two posts in a week? What, is the sky falling?
Maybe. It's been pretty wet and cold in Newcastle of late. I have to dress for snow weather in order to approach the Darkrooms at Uni, and required dunking in hot water to defrost when I got home. But still.

I guess that the upping has been a little to do with Uni. This is both work and procrastination for me; Work because I'm blogging about Uni, and procrastination because it is a more fun method than simply typing things out in Word and printing it off. What can I say? Tactile thinking is just more fun. Anyway. Here goes with the next concept I'm working with.

This is project #2 for Fibres. Being out of sequence is fun because it confuses everyone, and I feel that brings us all down to my level.

'Do you know what's going on? No? Ok. Me neither.'

The name of the module is called 'The Fabric of Myth' and relates directly to the role of fibres and textiles in myth. Golden fleeces, windbags, shrouds and string-operated GPS systems (wait. Did I just double-state something?) all relate heavily to myth and the use of textiles, and Greek myths, which are the basis for 'classical' mythology, are a bag of fun. I think I just lost my thought train.

ANYWAY.

I was originally going to create a spin on the story of Icarus and Daedalus, and make some wearable art that was wings. This got changed slightly a lot when I went to Ironfest in...wait. When was that? April. I think.
Ironfest is in Lithgow, and after trying to explain it to a few people who had no idea what I was babbling about, got simplified to 'something like a produce fair for Medieval enthusiasts'

Pictured: Sparta. Source

Ironfest is a bucketful of things more than that, because the medieval enthusiasts happen to usually be interested in things like Steampunk and Doctor Who. This fact is important. Save it for later. The fact that the festival is also held in Lithgow (which is somewhere in the Blue Mountains, in the freezing bit) means that they behave a bit different around pointy objects than the guys who run Anime conventions in the city. Go to Animania and your props need to be made from foam, cardboard or balsa wood. Go to Ironfest and people are walking around with legit swords and machetes and selling said swords and machetes and assorted pointy things.


They had things to look at and things to do, and my friends and I took great interest in Archery (that you could partake in), Horseback Archery (Which spectators could spectate but not try out (understandably)), Jousting (see above), Falconry (Also just a viewing) and the Gran Melee (guys in chainmail and half-plate armour hitting each other with swords. Do the mathematics on audience participation yourself).

All of these things were excellent, and most of them we took care to check out in detail on the Saturday rather than the Sunday.

See, for the last month, and in frightening concentration over the last three days, we had been constructing our own costumes for wearing at Ironfest. Dressing up was not mandatory but there were a lot of people at the event in varying degrees of anachronistic wear. And a gimp. And a lady with no pants.

Those last two bits are not important.

So, our group had been constructing costumes because there are only so many places where it is acceptable to wear something spun entirely from fiction.

This is where the story begins to track back to it's origin and away from tangents involving Brooke's first experience of Dutch Pancakes.

We'd made Weeping Angel costumes.

Weeping Angels are one of the monsters that grace the screen of Doctor Who. They are...wait. Mister Tennant? Care to explain?

This is going to be fun for my Tutor who actually gets to mark the work and finds just the video link.

Hi Brett!

The basic concept behind the Weeping Angels is that they can't move while you're looking at them. When you blink, they can move (frightfully quickly) and if they touch you, they send you back in time (if you're lucky) and consume the energy you would have expended in the present. If you're not so lucky they'll just kill you.

Also, we find another excellent easter egg later in the Canon of Doctor Who. Anything that takes the image of an Angel becomes itself an Angel. Photographs; videos. Don't look at one in the eyes or it'll plant a seed of one in your mind. Weeping Angels seem to in general possess the same 'screw the 4th wall' tendencies that Costumers and Cosplayers display when creating.

Oh. Cosplay?
I mentioned it a while ago in this post. I guess I'll keep adding to it over time.

Cosplay = Costume Play.

Recreating a character from fiction into the real world. There's usually some degree of role play involved in there too. But why do we do it?

I think there's a combination of factors.

Retelling the myth (story)
Becoming the protagonist/character
Enjoying some kind of escape through whimsy-
Taking part in an adventure beyond desks and paper and computers.

"Can't work. Busy fighting Angels."

There may also be some identifying factor between the individual and the character portrayed (which is why I pick my cosplays carefully) or maybe the character is just very good at wiping the floor with the faces of his enemies.

That aside, I think the adventure factor is fairly prominent. In the same way that you watch a Die Hard film for the amount of things John McClane can improbably explode, people interested in the realm of Costume and Character love a good suspension of disbelief.

Ran out of bullets? You just fired 20 shots from that one magazine!

This is especially relevant in our case, because when my mates and I rocked up at Ironfest decked from head to toe in grey paint and foam wings, we got to experience the other end of the stick. We were the characters spun from fiction. The walking myth. And it was a lot of fun.

See, a good cosplay is accurate.
A great cosplay is where the wearer is willing to behave like the character.
A brilliant cosplay is when the audience completes the myth and responds appropriately to the thing being portrayed.

We had people for a radius of ten metres staring at us, murmuring 'don't blink' and the like, staring us down. Small kids followed in our wake clamouring at how we weren't supposed to move because they were looking at us.

I may have been reading too much Cracked.com in the last week.

Far from it being that they thought we were legit; the people we met that day were willing to play along because we all knew the rules to this imaginary game, and it allowed us to spin fiction into reality with quite amusing results.

When we were finishing the costumes (on the vacant lot next to Jo's relative's house), panicking and trying to remember to eat before heading out, Jo stated that he would be happy if we had one person ask for a photo.

We left on Sunday evening as very happy people.