something came to me tonight as i drove across town. i was seeing mirka mora, but the young mirka, standing outside her apartment in collins street in the 1950s. she looks such a parisienne and so so exotic in staid old melbourne.
this is a shot from the time, the opening of her cafe/restaurant with her husband georges. you can see her just to the left of the window, with hand up to face.
but i couldn't find the shot i wanted.
so this will have to do. the sophia:
now i am happy, at peace, at rest. i hope sublime is too.
i'm still working on bevis. another elusive person, bevis. i wasn't happy with macaulay, and perhaps he wasn't either as he hasn't been by to comment. i doubt this will be any better but i'm trying to visualise him going on the fairly detailed pointers he has given.
forgive me bevis, if this annoys you. you know i love you.
7 comments:
Firstly, thank you so much for giving so much time and thought to the 'sublime-ation'.
You are fairly spot on in your guesses. Imagine a blonde, less stunning Sophia, and you aren't that far off. Are you psychic? Oh dear, my narcissism is palpable.
And indeed, my grandparents used to hang out at that very studio in that photo. I even know a few great stories about it. There are too many to fit in a comment box.
But dear god, my mum is going to die when she finds out that you used Mirka. She has never really got on with Mirka all that well, for too many reasons to go into here.
But Mirka is great for her wildness. She was much wilder, and more seductive, than I.
From that generation I think I would be more of a Dorothy Braund, Guelda Pyke, Joy Hester, Lina Bryans kinda girl.
Mirka herself is disappointed that I didn't become an artist. But you, MG, would have made her proud with this.
And next time I see her, I'll tell her about this.
She'll love it. And the beautiful Georges would have loved it to.
*whooosh over chai's head* Forgot to thank you regd astroboy. It has been said that I am quite animated.
hey i'm pleased i obviously tapped into some kind of history there, sublime.
joy hester eh? i'm sure we could trade a few stories quietly about the heide gang for i too have a not-too tenuous connection with that lot.
and chai. exactly. animated is how i see you!
ps sublime. it's never too late. as i'm sure mirka would agree. tell her that too.
We have to share stories over a vodka sometime.
I get all excited when I meet people who've even heard of these people. They were some of the most fascinating and inspiring people ever, and I feel so priveliged that I knew some of them.
As for my artistic career, alas it is too late, I have no skills in the drawing/painting department whatsoever, and I would make my friends shoot me if I ever turned into a wanky New Media artist with no artistic talent whatsoever.
I've told Mirka that she'll just have to be happy with my career choice as arts writer, as someone has to bloody well write on these artists, otherwise no one would even know about them.
Hey hey hey - don't you be feelin' that I don't love ya!!
:)
I have been sadly absent, but I certainly have no ill feelings towards you, MG. This post (and the previous one) made me laugh out loud quite a few times in blissful joy!
The Marty Worrell pic amused me even moreso, because my brother used to work with Marty at Sanity in Fox Studios, Sydney (until he - by which I mean Marty, naturally - got on the show and quit).
So it's one degree of separation (or is that two? I never know for sure) from me to Marty. And in addition to us both having shaved heads and an amazing ability to sing, we're both also very nice boys. What more could you want?
re Mirka: she was still exotic in the summer of 1967 when I worked as a waitress at Tolarno - each night at about 6pm she would descend the stairs wearing amazing clothes like caftans. I (teenage and not long from the country) was always stunned by this.
At that time the Tolarno was the ultimate place in Melbourne - Fitzroy St was not gentrified yet either.
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