updated Paper Bird gigs... i will be supporting Carla Bozulich at the Wuk in Vienna on May 28th and canadian band No Kids at the Rhiz in Vienna on June 1st. on June 28th i'll play an old castle in Wolkersdorf near Vienna. on august 9th i'll play the PMK in innsbruck and one day later i'll support the amazing Scott Matthew at the Poolbar Festival in Feldkirch. On September 14th i will take the plane to Stuttgart, Germany, and play a show in at a hairdresser's salon in Esslingen as part of some sort of city festival. in October i will tour Germany with my songwriter collegue Landscape Izuma.
dawanda is just like etsy, by the way, just the german/european version of it.
if you want to have any of these very girlish things when ordering stuff from the Paper Bird store as well, just say so in the mail and we will work it out in one order.
i felt like a kid with two left hands at the nude drawing class today and wished for a fat naked guy or a skinny one with visible bones. after the first hour i decided to shit on anatomical correctness made some things i really liked. i remembered when we did figure drawing back in school, in the same room, with brushes made out of stuff we found outside in the park. sticks, grass, moss, roots. i'll get my ass behind mother's throwing wheel tomorrow. i haven't worked with clay in years, which is weird. i like the smell of it, the moist texture and i like to make things that want to be touched. a piece of something that fits into your palm, a polished surface so sleek you get goosebumps. and i remember standing around the kiln for making raku in summer nights, watching my mum and others taking the red-hot pieces out of the kiln with long grippers, their mouths and noses covered, first putting them into big bowls filled with chipped wood which would be covered to put out the flames and later carefully lifting the hot pieces into cold water, where the glaze would get its final black cracks. it was like a mystic ritual among artsy housewives and their families between soil, fire, smoke and water.
walking home on the inner city's main shopping street, there was nobody but me and a guy with a paper napkin and a straw who was firing little balls of paper and spit on every store window and neon sign along the way, whohooing at every hit.
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