Blogging

Is mummyblogging a radical act?

by Veronica on February 10, 2011

in Blogging, Soapbox

Mummyblogging has been declared a radical act by some, but I don’t agree – and funnily enough, neither does the person who supposedly quoted it in the beginning.

This has been going around and around in my head for months.

I don’t think we are amazing and brave and strong for blogging about our children – although some posts do take bravery to share.

I don’t think lifting the veil on motherhood is a thing of defiance and I don’t think we are radicals, simply for blogging about our struggles with feeding, sleep schedules, lost identities, boredom and drudgery.

The veil hiding motherhood is manufactured, like the beauty in magazines. Beauty that is airbrushed in, tweaked and moulded until it is only a shadow of the former woman. Like the perfection in some blogs, those who refuse to show pictures of a messy house, or a messy face, or blog about things less than perfect.

The veil was never real to begin with. The veil is merely the great divide that we parents feel separates us from the non-parents in the room.

Yes, we are reaching a wider audience than previous generations and some of our readers aren’t mothers and are shocked to find out what it’s really like.

But in ages gone, that happened too. In the past, the disconnect between mothers and non-mothers wasn’t so large, as real life communities were closer knit. An aboriginal woman having her first child 200 years ago would have watched women parenting from the moment she was born, as her daughters to follow would do. They would have discussed and shared parenting. When her first child slipped into the world, she wouldn’t have been launched into the unknown, so much as initiated into the realm of motherhood.

We aren’t radical.

What we’re saying isn’t any different to what our mothers said and their mothers before them. We just have a different platform on which to say it. I don’t think this makes us stronger, or louder or braver. At the end of the day, dude, it’s the internet, not the holy grail of immortalized works of art made into words.

It’s human nature to believe that what we’re going through and experiencing is totally unique.

It isn’t and we aren’t.

My struggles are identical to the struggles of women, all over the world, for thousands of years. I just have access to the Internet, like women before me had access to book clubs, to mothers groups, to the red tents.

I am not different to them and I am not suddenly radical for talking about motherhood.

I don’t think any of us are.

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Photos from the VIP opening of MONA

by Veronica on January 25, 2011

in Blogging

Sadly I didn’t take as many photos as I would have liked to, I was too busy trying to absorb the artwork by osmosis.

However, I got permission today to publish what I did take photos of, so I can share what I’ve got. I will definitely be taking my camera in when I go again (and again, and again – I may have a small Mona addiction).

Probably less than a quarter of the wine that was on offer. A few hours later, there was still plenty of alcohol, but no clean glasses.

A minuscule portion of the fruit tables.

There were too many people to photograph much of the food, which in hindsight was a shame. But that’s okay.

The artwork is equally stunning.

A room called Kryptos, dimly lit with a mirrored roof and binary code along the walls. I loved it.

Plants in hanging glass baskets – I suspect half of the art here is in the shadow they cast.

Loop System Quintet, 2005. Conrad Shawcross – mechanical arms that spin and paint with light – the machines spin to the left and the art they produce is shown on the opposite wall. One motor, one axle, five machines spinning at the same time, with a lightbulb on each of them that spins at different speeds.

And this is the only photo I took in the ‘Sex and Death’ exhibit. P XIII 2008 Berlinde DeBruychere

Lustmord 1994. Jenny Holzer. I found these so beautiful. Words written on the backs of people and photographed. Ten sets of four each.

Thank You to MONA for allowing me to publish photos. Artist information will be added shortly, as soon as I can get hold of it.

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Tasmanian Times

by Veronica on January 25, 2011

in Blogging

My thoughts on MONA FOMA and the Mona opening are up on the Tasmanian Times now.

You can see the article here.

There are four very different perspectives, mine is the final one.

Thanks to Lindsay Tuffin for publishing it for me.

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MONA opening. Also, say yes to parties thrown by millionaires.

by Veronica on January 22, 2011

in Blogging, Gotta Laugh, Headfuck

Trying to find the words to write about the Mona opening is like stammering adjectives and spluttering lots. I’m a writer, but I’m having trouble articulating what the entire experience was like. Surreal comes to mind – and I know surreal is a word overused, but surreal is about all I can drum up.

Thanks to ABC radio and our titles of ‘Micro Critic’ we got tickets to the VIP opening, the giant party thrown by millionaire David Walsh. I was already a bit stunned by the socialite dresses and name dropping going on around me, so I shouldn’t have been shocked to see upwards of 80 lobster tails on a rotisserie as I headed down to the tennis courts and museum entrance. Glasses of champagne were handed out as we walked past and I, for the first time in a long time, had a drink as we walked.

Once inside the museum, we collected our O Device (an iPod touch, uploaded with Mona software) and walked down three stories of stairs into the depths of the museum. Open rock faces had been left exposed and I was stupidly pleased about that. There is something about the beauty of sandstone walls that makes me happy.

I’m not sure what I was expecting, but a giant party in the foyer area probably wasn’t it. Maybe trays of hors d’oeuvres and a glass of wine before we walked around, but the scale of the catering left me a bit shocked.

I have expensive tastes, on a bread and butter budget. Even this was beyond what I’d expected. Tables filled with wine glasses waiting to be filled. An open bar with every conceivable drink you could want. A table piled high with nothing but fresh bread and a table next to it with cheeses. Salads served in paper cones, dished up from giant silver bowls. Prosciutto sliced in front of you. A giant blue fin tuna, just sitting on ice – an accompaniment to the finest sashimi. Hundreds of oysters on ice. Russian caviar worth $200 for 25g, being handed out on spoons and washed down with good vodka shots (that I declined).

Like I said, astounding. Really, for me, a once in a lifetime experience.

The museum is indescribable. Sex and death combine with art to create something that is offensive, shocking, breathtaking and brilliant. I wasn’t offended, but the wall of vaginas appeared to upset some of the men. 151 vaginas were modeled, while a master carver carved them (we think in wax, but it’s a bit unclear) and then cast them to display. The effect is astounding, as you walk down a hallway with a line of vulvas looking at you.

Personally, that was one of my favourite exhibits and something that every teenage girl should see. The range of normal is beautiful and not something we get to see often. I think it does however need a companion work of 151 penises, but that’s my bias coming through.

I loved it. The whole experience was something I doubt I’ll get to repeat ever again and I am intensely excited at the thought of showing it all to Nathan, who is staunchly anti-artwank and who is looking forward to seeing it.

Even more than that, I am really interested to see what this does for Tasmania as a whole. We’ve now got one of the best private museums in the world and I couldn’t be more proud.

I ended up getting to chat to some very interesting people, care of introductions from Stephen Estcourt. The very lovely Lindsay Tuffin and Richard Flanagan for starters. Both incredibly interesting men that I’d look forward to talking with again. I’m a fan of both of their work, Lindsay’s website is excellent and Richard’s writing, well. Brilliant comes to mind. I also met Leo Schofield and his wife, who are both lovely.

I also talked to Kylie Kwong for a bit too and did an excellent job of not fangirling at her.

It’s going to take a while to be able to fall back into real life after this. We’re on the radio again on Monday – 8.40am, live as far as I know. You can listen to that live streaming with this link.

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MONA FOMA, with photos of @neilhimself and @amandapalmer

by Veronica on January 16, 2011

in Blogging, Gotta Laugh, My body is broken.

I spent the entire day yesterday down at MONA FOMA, listening to bands, helping collect money for the QLD Flood Relief and wandering around getting sunburned. The line-up for the evening was what I was most interested in, Mikelangelo and the Black Sea Gentleman, then Neil Gaiman, then Amanda Palmer.

The moment the doors opened to let us into the main stage area, the atmosphere was electric.

Unfortunately, there was no seating available, so we had to suffer through, sitting on a thin mat on top of concrete. It wasn’t ideal and I have the bruises and sore hips to prove it.

Sitting on the hard concrete floor.

Mikelangelo was excellent. Funny too – his voice is like melted honey and you just want to listen to him sing for hours. They were consummate performers and the crowd adored them.

Then there was, of course, Neil Gaiman and his cult following. I love his books and I was looking forward to this.

I’d bailed out of sitting on the floor and headed up to where frogpondsrock and my brother were sitting, up in the tiered seating, we had an excellent view of the stage and during Mikelangelo, excellent sound.

That wasn’t the case with Neil Gaiman. Something happened with the PA system and when he started to speak, we could hear barely anything and what we did catch sounded blurry. I caught every 3rd word, which is a shame, as hearing him read was what I was most looking forward to. I could hear the sound of Neil’s voice and it sounds like it would have been brilliant too.

Instead I took photos, enjoyed the atmosphere and wished that the seating and sound were better.

As Neil finished, the roadies started setting up for Amanda Palmer and the crowd flocked in. Because she was singing, we were hopeful that the sound would be better, and it was, a bit.

Can I just say, that Amanda Palmer is brilliant? Her voice, her stage presence, all brilliant. I adored what I got to see.

Digression: My body is broken. It doesn’t work as well as I’d like and I get to do fun things like dislocate joints, or spend hours throwing up for no reason. This makes things interesting and my body has crappy timing, generally.

I was enjoying the show, and taking photos at the same time, right up until the lady in front of me sprayed perfume and I had a minor body rebellion. I figured it wouldn’t be polite of me to throw up down her back, so I bailed out.

I spent the rest of the gig listening from the flood relief tables and chatting to the lovely Stephen and his wife Mary. I would have loved to have seen the rest, because like I said, she is brilliant. Absolutely fucking fantastic.

So, that is what I did last night. What have you been up to?

***

Oh and can I just shout out to Nathan – who is spending the days at home with the kids alone while I attend all these gigs and review them on twitter. Thankyou honey. I rather love you. xx

More photos over at Frogpondsrock

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