Mexican coati, a type of cute raccoon sans mask as it does not have one, native to Mexico sitting on a chair with a refreshing local beer in Mexico, Sol. The artist maybe having some fun here if indeed a raccoon 🦝 type animal first place, might be a small bear! Name sounds similar to coyote from Mexico both the name of a canine and the people who assist smuggling others through the border the smugglers/coyotes must be masters of subterfuge and disguise
Racoons are masters of raiding garbage cans throughout USA and Canada so probably same Mexico. People get mad yet still love them as they are wild animals in an urban environment, kind of like rascals or well loved rogues. We have possums and the ibis, they prefer public trash cans or pecking near you as you sit at the park eating lunch.
Maybe the artist is also having fun at USA real raccoons that have masks yet Mexicans are seen as los banditos by certain US citizens el coati does not so which is el bandito?
The Spanish used to wear masks as did Venetians I’ve seen that in paintings hmm then there’s the pirates, West Coast of Mexico was infamous on that one. Zorro is a the pulp fiction character is famous masked fighting for the rights of the under dog in several movies. He signed his name Z with a sword.
Mel Ramos painted the above. A Dark Shadow Lurks from memory is the title, HK always saw this pic as Zorro but now realises it is Batman with whom HK is less familiar everyone has faves as to pulp fiction.
Ramos' line work reminds HK of how she approaches her work, a work with lines you can bounce from and some light humour. The cute el coati is quite different again and the Mel Ramos used as a way to talk by Holy Kitsch! as art here is way restrictive and mostly copies Holy Kitsch! whenever she publishes therefore she largely ceased as to certain studio works as the institutions here prefer not to have genuine artists only the ones who remember their lines. She needs a dastardly gallery of ill repute to back her so her work is no longer endangered whilst she organises el museo and is still alive and she is so there, fooled you.
Sol aside from meaning "sun" and in sound meaning "soul" is the prefix of my niece's ahem, Chenoa Electra Erina’s, father's name. The name in there means white dove of peace, she is blonde like her British Dutch Dad, me till about 8 and Mum when she was a baby. Sol has an odd connection to Chenoa's father's father who was the owner I think of Smith's Alarm Clocks unrelated to the Dali clocks at Holy Kitsch! it must be so the name is too similar in meaning he is just being irritating refusing to remind me.
Chrissy had dark wiry crinkly crimpy hair that some hairdressers topiaried and so dark eyes from Venus she reminded me of an Egyptian painting in a crypt. The suffix of Richard's name matching the suffix of my mother's maiden name Heighway, hence Heighway's Dragon a fractal named by the discoverer after himself.
Chenoa was born way prematurely on Noni's 21st birthday another weird coincidence as is my ex business partner’ grandfather’s birthday same date as Noni diff year Gemini. We all fretted strongly for the next few weeks, she pulled through. Bob Hawke was a Gemini it’s common for politicians as they are big talkers, can be good or bad.
There was strong debate on whether Chrissy was upstaging my 21st. I was having a small party, I remember that clearly. Dad stated ruthfully "we gave the good one away" pacing away at home as he was convinced like the rest of us Chenoa was way too tiny to live, it was not derogatory.
He was wary of poor Richard being British as he was Greek Cypriot and the Turks with the Greeks stayed united in their hatred of Colonials, strangely Dad had colonial manners combined with Middle Eastern hospitality that offers guests abundance as Holy Kitsch! continues to do so his father was the Police Chief Cyprus one time and Dad an artist, inventor, engineer and scientist way different to the "fish and chips" Greek promoted by most media here though ones that did do fish and chips did a decent job of it instead of finding your fish tastes like dry battered toothbrush heads or chopped calico a common place event for many putting them off fish for life.
Mexicans inherited manners from Spain which at one time was mogul, you can see that in Picasso. Generosity is considered a good trait in Mexico. Polite speech arose in the Middle East hmm Mexicans can tend toward more casual it is situational.
To make matters worse he used to tell the story of how his battalion looted a palace in the Middle East during WW2 as you do. Better than torturing people. He said the Brits did not enter and stayed outside looting their loot so they ended up with less. Thats what he told, maybe it was a story about taking care of your back though we owned the amethyst coloured thick cut glass tea glasses with silver bases from the palace. He also told how USA used Black people in their front lines, attitudes in the army have changed. Dad too was in the front lines.
The giant around 12 inch thick dictionary we had at home was a Websters, American, rather than an Oxford English Dictionary which was kept near the crystal prism, the old black stone tool a didgeridoo and a statue of Laxmi, goddess of wealth in ivory which concerned me so much as to being ivory I threw out years later. They were popular then, it was finely carved most ivory is so.
He was unusual as a father those days in that he spent a lot of time with his entire family, he gave us prezzies like an electric train set one year we loved it and theatrical puppets manipulated by strings another. Also chocolate coloured dollies Mum made the dresses and possibly chose them. Dad's fave show when we grew up was Steptoe and Son must have influenced my late older sister who became an antique dealer.
Chrissy who was younger than me RIP and Mum said should have been a model causing me to feel plain, had very recently had an earlier bubba causing huge disputes. I will not go into the enormous rifts though Dad was for keeping, Mum was against, I was for keeping and Chrissy listened to Mum, family rents are not for pussies.
Julie RIP my older sister and Christine despised each other, they loathed the very ground they walked upon so Julie's vote did not count. She was the one who blurted out the first pregnancy at the dinner table she was treacherous, how did Mum and Dad RIP not notice? Chrissy was near 6 months and wearing loose dresses locking the door in the bathroom in case Mum might decide to walk in it was funny yet we were totally scared of the consequences.
Mum was the matriarch and had the last word on almost everything, she said she would leave Dad if he bought a boat, cannot imagine why she disliked boats. She was brought up with Victorian values so unable to cope with this situation too concerned for nosy neighbours she never liked in the first place and called one creeping Jesus. Perhaps she felt too mature to now care for the baby as Chrissy was plainly still a kid and so may have left the care taking to Granny. Societal pressure on Mum and all of us was enormous and remains abusive to many still a hangover from the days of convicts and masters, the Colonial hangover. We were outlaws.
Gordon's family went totally ballistic and blamed Chrissy. Their son who was near 16 like her, he sat on the fence until his family shipped him and the rest of their family back to Canada away from dreadful people such as us. They were very good Christians as to his parents goes to show religion is not a sure fire way to say you are human or even a cat. His Dad managed Alcan if he accidentally reads this, highly unlikely.
Gordon so dreamy the poor guy was almost charged by the police, he was so absent minded, his moccasin caught in the hugely lengthy travelator at Domain Parking Station once it was chewed up as those things do so and the travelotor jammed meaning a very lengthy walk.
Chenoa was well loved and could not have guessed that prior history nor possibly her Dad who sort of resembled Gordon who had long curly blonde hair. Christine excelled at choosing cool fathers both times for her babies, don't know how she pulled that off. Richard later became a computer scientist and lecturer at uni. Gordon and Chrissy looked so ebullient playing in the pool with the pool inflatables bonking each other over the head with them, in the old films, they were outlaws in love
She could not deal with Sue out at Cooma, sorry Sue, sorry Richard, I know she would have found them heavy work, that dated dismissiveness based on nothing much at all here, especially dreadful people as to certain dated ideals. They were hard work for her I am certain so not a great start for both Richard and Chrissy, men are blind to women who dislike each other, they must be!
The people round Julie were quite different to her, to Julie's detriment she could not know she was just not quite fitting and was what was known as "woggy' from Southern Europe. Wog also means to spit, comedians have since used the word in jest of themselves though it still remains as a pretty miserable word.
Even with comedic shows it made no difference to these broadly held perceptions, it is so bad here we rarely have Southern Europeans in parliament as we are all considered crooks, same from the Middle East HK cannot think of any Italian movie directors here that are famed anyhow.
The USA having Tarantino as globally famed would simply not happen due to demarcation of types thought proper to rise in rank. I guess they have to cling to notions of being superior beings as they inherited money from being non inventive and boring.
If you are white South African or from Northern Europe (preferably non Jewish or if so you better cultivate a British accent and be alt Right) you are fine, a racist called Joh Bjelke Petersen was in power for a lengthy period in Queensland as him and his wife were considered good white Aussies he was horrible looking so you can see that kind of name is fine and considered to be all gum trees this neck of the woods.
Racism is a science here, it has improved but having a personality transplant is difficult. A lack of passion is usual so that made matters awful for the entire family, how do you expunge passion? An inability to read art in the market place is usual too, you can twist yourself into knots trying to see if the elite approve as you do need that awful ruling elite to validate or you are stuck and there are none who appear to want to replace the rigid order.
What occurs is you react inwardly, for Julie she was unable to articulate that kind of middle class covert marginalising so it came back onto the family as a loud temper and onto herself as she failed to understand herself, she was indulged as we had been allowed great freedom though it affected me way less, we did have enormous freedom for Julie it made life difficult, Chrissy too. It was a strange contrast to have Mum's country upbringing contrasted to Dad's European Left leaning philosophic approach to life.
With Chrissy, the gentleman farmer was simply not going to ask her to the ball, had the relationship with Gordon been left to run some kind of course her life might have been less of a challenging path.
Not that the family ever deserted her as she was older, more I as I was self sufficient so seen as able to look out for myself and left to my own devices however I was fragile, I am complex like all intelligent beings including all life on Earth.
When Dad died and Mum made the decisions she bought my two sisters a house each. I was omitted as I had a boyfriend who was supposed to support me and move in with Mum. Her attitude towards me has had a lasting impact on my life, I do not think she could have been that aware about being unfair, she left me penniless though had assisted me at times. I have always been largely self-employed so maybe she saw I did not need much help still something more would have been good.
Men do not like independence in my nation either unless you are a part of that small elite so pass, actually most appeared to object to the three of us, obviously we failed to be slippery or marry for money, impossible given our wild Cypriot backgrounds who wants to be "normal".
Even Chinese people were considered way up the ladder as they had made their mark in the goldfields and the Eureka Stockade plus men here think Chinese women are more pretty so do women here its all agreed. I usually got on well with Chinese and the Venetians.
Appealing to a Chinese audience is the new direction for art galleries which has influenced some artist's directions, I do not know how Chinese nationals feel on that one as to being targeted, are they wary or hoping to discover a new way of seeing?
Artists need an audience I am easy, being puritanical is usual here that or so gross just forget it. Aboriginal people were put in retraining camps. We do not read about the people from Taiwan much nor barely the Vietnamese though many live here, same Thais we just happen to be that part of the globe.
Currently you need to be wealthy to migrate here as education is expensive and that is a popular path. This tends to ensure the incoming students are more conservative from conservative families as we cannot have anybody radically minded arriving meaning we might miss out on art and invention due to our avoidance of refugees. Some families do work very hard to obtain the highly valued Western education from countries rife with elitism and corruption though guess its not hugely different here, it is probably familiar to newcomers.
The three sisters were not consciously aware of discrimination, we had read about it and we were not trying to spot it and oddly we did not feel a part of that conversation ever why would we think about it? Likely due to our unusual background we failed to recognise we were supposed to be the underclass, you cannot see it yet it structured much around us including the world of art then and still does as to old school ties, inner circles, uniformity, the sentimental, ways of seeing and influences.
Going to the UK was de rigueur and spending time in some awful ex-pat enclave in a dingy bedsit then saying how fabo you were for doing so, I avoided that. Birgitta was an au pair from Sweden there for a time, well educated though treated less so, she was asked to Hoover the ceiling she decided those people were mad it did not have cobwebs and the Hoover was too awkward to invert and heavy.
Julie's extreme temper and belligerence Mum blamed on a forceps birth she was born blue with an oblong head and took her time. This country prides itself on politeness yet finds it hard not to be rude. Anyhow destructive to our souls.
I could not stand Michael nor trust him and disliked his influence on others and attitudes, to this day I saw him as changing people's minds and leaning on them an awful influence on Robert.
The other accent here is broad Aussie, not the most musical on the planet, it is flat so everybody just mumbles in case somebody leaps out at them with a big stick as a spectre of the past and still present in a nation losing democracy daily. I wonder if the aboriginal language has influenced us, you can barely figure each word Aboriginals use in their lingo, it is amusing in a gentle way I do not know how anyone understands them when they speak so called English!
3 awesome sisters living in the one house results in extreme competition can tell you including boyfriends. We all had to decide unspoken that we each had a very different career path long term so we did not tread on each other. My having a boyfriend long term first was the cause of some of the early minor tiffs though even as little kids gee were we competitive. I do not know why, lots of Freud in there, Mum competed with us for attention as well which was totally strange, I do not think she was aware of that when I think about it yet it made me feel bad and confused us.
Julie was the antique dealer after dropping out of Art School, I firstly studied Design as Julie had chosen Art so beat me on that, I returned to art later for better or worse really I had no choice it is what I do and what I do best.
Christine chose motherhood and craft works from home including spinning wool and making me a box out of matchsticks and she liked gardening saying you can grow radishes on concrete.
As stated we were not Aussie or British enough for the art world there are strict rules here on whether you pass those tests no matter your nation of origin (they must feel benevolent toward you) in anything in life you do here and you have to feel guilty about something cannot imagine why.
Noni's life is brimming with coincidences, even when people see that they go on the attack, not her fault it's their insecurities as were a certain minority about Holy Kitsch! who even blamed HK for the flood in Crown St, Surry Hills, literally abused us. The street gutters needed clearing and the rain was climate change heavy all flooded it was in the news.
Chenoa's father, ahem Richard, came into mine and my sister's life like Zorro, heroic and swashbuckling, at that time anyhow. Holy Kitsch! is unfortunately a romantic, Noni's ex-boyfriend Laurie brought this darn guy to our place as friends and lovers do so.
Laurie was the DJ in the house and was totally good at sourcing indie music and underground, Chrissy shared his love of music they would talk about the latest releases for hours everybody wanted to know what bands he had found he loved books as well particularly on Zen though like me quite broad in tastes I still have books on Haiku so conversations were lively he was extra smart in a non conformist manner, he was the one with some aboriginal heritage, Darky Gardiner in the days of bush rangers.
We were enjoying an extreme holiday whilst living at home as Mum and Dad were travelling meaning it was now an open house in which to party we had a loud high quality hi fi downstairs that could bring the house down plus a decent swimming pool and the indoor garden with a waterfall then the top floor male friends would dangerously leap out to the pool below that part was outside. It was a wealthy conservative neighbourhood full of backward gossips.
Christine became preggers. Noni made her sister's preggers dress because she could. Chrissy could have bought a loose dress, it was maxi and gathered. The dress was a soft green vyella with a sailor's collar with sewn on stripes of vyella (a cotton & wool mix) and she wore it as it looked fashionable or pretended she liked it.
Chrissy and Richard went to Cooma in NSW not long before the birth it was freezing and snowing. Did all his rock star friends drop by there as most had been to the St Ives house, he was a real communicator and liked company.
Chrissy the Card Counter, who had a very good visual memory and sensory intellect way above average, the 3 sisters did which causes enormous issues as to Local inclined it’s impossible to test and different to winning an art competition in Oz or being tech savvy. Different criteria, if you are not much good on the arts the sisters had your collection of #anythingatall will lose value and you may get less joy from it. People here can use dismissiveness way common to dated manners as their Visual Intellect is poor to average only, they cannot help that btw.
You learn to not say much or enforced to be be totally literal in Visual Art if an artist here and Present as people go bananas on contact. Maybe the English colonial prisoner and guards legacy is more wordy, more institutional, less visual, less sensory not knowing how to approach the globe and others. "Humility is present" is an important condition though I do think we all had that and I still have a lot of attachment to my country.
If you think of Shakespeare compared to visual artists fame from UK maybe the people from there are writers. Then again the Turner Prize is one of few art competitions that works well. Future migrants in Oz often came from nations that as well were accustomed to paperwork rather than escaping in sheer terror from mad men and mad women as occurred in the USA so neatly fitted the existing frameworks here.
Aussies are good at innuendo and often use it on me I’m not one for it much, it’s gentle at times though other times it’s evil used to pick and unsettle artists brains or used in politics. Here it’s used in the art world as they are not very good so cover it up being indirect is so usual here I’ve tried to harden myself to it.
I’m dreamy so an easy target when caught off guard also sensitive. Anyone can be a child genius but do they have insight, self awareness, acting ability, humanity, perception or sensitivity, understanding, philosophical insight sensuality joy of life a keen sense of their surroundings there is so much you simply cannot test that makes for intelligence beyond a written test focusing on mathematical abilities. Could even Shakespeare score well on an IQ test its mad let alone Visual and sensory people we need new ways of discovering ourselves.
UK creates circumstances for writers by its systems less so for Visual same here which is frustrating try to explain an art work of any kind to somebody who is totally literal and without passion, clueless. Those people usually go for didactic works with poor connectivity.
Richard did display a peculiar habit no accounting for, wood chopping. He chopped wood constantly, if he had been out and returned and Chrissy asked where he had been he would collapse on a chair ruddy faced eyes appearing like the artist Olafur Eliasson's "a walk in the space between us" chest heaving from his bout of pneumonia saying he was chopping wood.
He wood chop wood into all sorts of sizes all the way down to matchsticks, mountains of it, with a good axe he chose large branches rather than the entire tree. His supply outstripped the home fires demand, then he took up the chainsaw.
There was plenty of wood for the wood fired stove and heating water, there was so much wood he could have started a paper pulp business. He sometimes hunted rabbits and made a rabbit curry when rabbits were still around cooking it in the fireplace in a pot over the darn wood. Richard is climbing-trees friendly and currently concerned about Dutch Elm Disease and the Ash dieback he is still alive in the UK in a tiny village and I do not know when I will see him again, that concerns me.
Christine was strangely quite shy so she had ways to mask that with others, she was heaps insecure we were untamed and raised by wolves. I was soo shy too, took ages to overcome that one, Holy Kitsch!ers would be surprised I still am though love company, so it goes.
When I started casual work in my first design job it was in the retail store helping with customers and Birgitta had to rescue me from the communal change room as I was stuck in the corner, she thought it a riot as I looked terrified yet I had seen my entire family naked no big deal as to women trying on clothes, I am 5 feet tall and Locals are taller. I had no issues with nudity it was the power of a group of people versus Holy. We had a picture of the Shroud of Turin in there as an anti theft device. Shyness is nice say The Smiths.
Da Vinci talks about things by always leaving a critical element out for you to discover, something you need to know about his inventions and explorations due to his trade. He is cagey, I think Italians can be like that must be cultural. I wonder how much to leave in what to leave out in my art practice and beyond as I aim to make el museo happen and gain entry to a Doctorate, just one of them might do and my studio art work is better off in another nation should have known eons ago, sorry Holy Kitsch!ers its a bad fit here all my art work does is inflame Ozzies who then prevent me from making money at it as the movers are entirely dull its been happening for way too long and awful behaviour amongst the unfortunately privileged who are hillbillies and not Holy Kitsch!ers all they give Holy Kitsch! is a dead hand, common practice amongst professionals in Oz sadly can’t figure that one, different schools to mine obviously, soul life destroying nobody needs that one in one short brilliant life.
She still wore something under the vyella everything prickled us 3 sisters, Mum too. Her thing was metal right down to the concealed hooks on bras she found unbearable so used band aids. Chrissy preferred being almost naked in vintage thirties dyed slips that kept falling from her those early days Julie sold at the markets dying them in an electric copper stirring with a wooden spoon casting Mum's spells, hubble bubble toil and trouble and she looked dazzling in her naturally ringleted black Afro, velvet 1920s dresses and feather boas were big at that time with old furs many said she resembled Elizabeth Taylor we stood out, we also argued on whether we could borrow a twenties beaded chiffon dress for the night, they were highly collectible and each uniquely beautiful, our family was so much more interesting than other art families I have read about for here, they usually come from the countryside.
In summer when our parents were away and it was really hot we just went naked with our friends swimming. One friend would visit just undress and say that was it for him for summer as we had room for friends to stay over and plenty of food as Mum and Dad left the freezer full and money to live on we were fortunate. Compared to currently we were not overly spoilt, we had allowances and we did not each have a separate TV. Julie managed to harangue Dad for multiple trips to London I should have been more assertive yet felt I had to compensate for her showiness and noisy requests.
HK grew used to prickly clothes as many of us do. None of us drank or barely then except coffee and fizz pop we were for a good life. The 3 Sisters took sides constantly. Maybe she hated the dress so took revenge by giving birth early.
Richard gave up hope after the break up and returned to UK, laws were even worse "them days" as to fathers parenting kids. I lost touch the complex situations all too difficult, miss those days in Adaminaby the ducks sliding on the frozen pond when I dropped by, Richard chopping wood next to the shed.
When Chenoa could speak and understand well I would say to her if you need to find your father I will trace him. I was unsure if that was right against Chrissy yet it felt unfair she did not know him or see him and by then Chrissy was way feral, too wild and violence against the wild was endemic this country prefers conformity and an easy fit into an easy compartment.
Holy Kitsch! is a detective par excellence once anyhow becoming lazy on that one, I did find him, in the UK countryside in a village, weirdly through the British white pages and I think someone on the phone exchange pre mobiles. I can trace all kinds of lost items on this planet it is useful I guess for research.
Chenoa gradually grew up in fear of Holy poisoning her or worse. She survived the maggot infested ham debacle at Xmas and the bush walks where Holy insisted on her plaited shoes with small heels so Chenoa had to walk at a slower pace behind her. Chenoa was forced to watch traffic if they ran out of things to do and they had to make hooting noises at each other depending on type of car and who saw first, eg meep meep that was for small cars it was a bit lame Chenoa thought.
Chenoa was enforced to eat other foodie experiments of Noni though fortunate avoid the Xmas pavlova wars and taste the legendary Ceylonese Christmas cake redolent with orange flower water, almond essence, rose water, vanilla, ground almonds, spices, cashews, dried and glazed fruits, ginger, and mixed nuts best served with brandy butter or home-made marzipan fruits and the result is a comatose like state. Then she had to listen to terrifying bedtime stories.
The food experiments involved pungent fish paste from southern Asia which Chenoa said smelt like pussy but the food did not it was just a warm enveloping aroma reminiscent of South East Asia. Alan was fortunate to eat the famed green curried chicken one time much later, he told the cab driver to hurry as I was cooking it that night.
Chenoa knew ze evil vitch "free radicals" were an issue for her and there-ly looked to be no escapez. None of us could figure vhy Chenoa appearedz entirely normal zat first, there vas gravez concernz. Since then Chenoa has wondered whether driving zee filigree silver stake through Holy's flamingz heart and waving smoked garlicz around her simultaneously might work, she decided against zee filigree silver stake, too expensive.
Really finely painted El Coati sits lightly on our planet and a light self humour. Unique cultural ware el coati is divining.
Holy Kitsch! uses cruelty free cosmetics, reads labels uses palm oil free avoids sodium laurel sulphate as it is made from palm oil, uses coconut if coconut it will say, same veg oil if it does not say it is prob palm oil same most things, it is a cover up
Avoid isothiazolinone or MI I read an article how people can be super allergic to it and just come up in huge blisters all over. You see it in wet wipes etc I just wash my hands normally. I think too much care can lead to catching super-bugs who knows?
HK does not wear furs except ugh boots and chooses cruelty free goose feather down available locally as well from EU. Another choice is kapok though some are allergic, it grows on trees and people use it in India for padding and filler.
In my own nation I am banned from zzee dezent publicz showingz of zee art workz haf been so foreverz I needz a muzeum zat will allow myself and otherz who are awesome. Een any profession eet is what you do virstly, zat iz zee big leveller though not in Oz here you must fit zee box or denigrated as amateurz, a zystem that has ze entrenched nepotizm, cronyizm and corrupt practicez, eez narrow as to showing other nationz and haz zee awful ideals vay vorse than anythingz I haf readz USA even Mexico where revolutionary eez normalz.
Eet vould haf been great to make it as an artist vhen I was younger could meets many otherz includingz opposite zex might haf liked them or not will never knowz but theez nation has little space for ze intellectuals that goez beyond art speak or szaying I am zlowly fading here. Vou learn how to do art speak vou do not haf to use it unlezz necessary zee other extremez is so average vou will go to sleepzz corrrrr pheeewww, zzzzzzzzz.
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