Janet Dunn Salon

Janet Dunn, third from left - in Purple.

The annual Janet Dunn Fashion Event took place this December at Trades Hall with lots of fun, food, drinks, champagne and the most amazing Dunn fashions including re-Dunn items you just couldn’t imagine but admired. The Duchess showed up to model her signature dress before her trip abroad to Sydney. Pics with Dunn fashions: Janet, the Duchess, the Caterer (yum yum), Kaz Funky Blue, Helen in Zipper Dress, the photographer, Kaz Funky Blue & yours truly in an original red jacket by Janet priced “expensive” for me, but many items were affordable and bought up by very happy and satisfied patrons. It was a blast. Check Janet and her fashions out at http://www.janetdunnfashion.co.nz


The Duchess, Helen Varley Jameison, Other photos: The Caterer, Kaz Funky Blue, Zipper Dress, The Photographer, Kaz Funky Blue & Yours Truly with unidentified object protruding from hip...

Conspiracy Theory Raw Food

from yard to table

.....the shortest distance from source to soul, my own salad from the backyard includes a good washing in between. When you can see things grow, and touch them while they are still growing into the earth it brings an appreciation no market or store can provide. I always wash greens and vegetables in a solution of water and grapefruit seed extract (10 drops to a basin of water) to remove any possible parasites, dirt, micro orgasms and whatever it is all those pesky black flies leave behind after sun bathing on my greens.

This is more important now than ever before. When I was in New York this year, there were some deaths in the U.S. due to bad ‘packaged’ organic spinach. I can hear the speeches from George Bush now, “raw food bad, processed food good.” (like after 9/11, air quality good.) These packages claim the contents are ready to eat no washing necessary. Sounds like eat at your own risk.

Conspiracy Theory? It’s only a matter of time before our governments convince us that whole food is dangerous. They claimed that even if people had washed that spinach, they still would have gotten sick!!

The wind was so strong last night my new spinach plants had a hard time keeping their roots in the ground, some barely survived. The wind is picking up again today for a third day in a row. Some say the wind is stronger than ever, but some say, why do you think they call it windy Wellington? Either way, everyone talks about the weather but no one really does anything about it. Or, do they?

Wind turbines. Why not use the wind? There is a wind turbine in Brooklyn (not New York, New Zealand) and one recent theatrical production at least addressed this issue. Or did they? Stay tuned darlings.

The Bacchanals Hamlet

Hamlet by William Shakespeare -- in New Zealand. What a thrill to hear and see Shakespeare in a new theatre community. I've seen a lot of theatre in New York and this is one of the best ever! This production by The Bacchanals, who say (in their program) that they are “...committed to fighting an onslaught of boring plays with nothing to say about the state of humanity. . . If theatre has the power to change the world, then it has the responsibility to as well.”

Here here!!

This production has been touring the Wellington area with FREE shows in Brooklyn, Paekakariki, Lyall Bay, Upper Hutt, Mount Victoria, Island Bay, Makara, Thorndon and where I saw it: Newtown. Their website: www.thebacchanals.net.

A three-hour show is long, but it was so inspiring. When it was over, I could still hear Ophelia singing. Erin Banks has a beautiful voice; she knows the differences and nuances between singing and speaking and how to use the singing voice in her character, to continue telling the story (something American Idol performers don’t get. They get picked up for Broadway and bomb!) I, along with the audience, was spell bound by Ophelia’s final scene.

Kudos also to John Smythe as the hilarious Polonius and the Grave Digger. His interpretation of each character was completely different and yet we laughed equally to the folly of each character’s take on the world they inhabited above and below ground.

Simon Vincent in the title role was like Iggy Pop with his shirt on. Veins were popping with each thought word and deed and when his dagger tore through the curtain and killed Polonius, he kept right on rocking.

Phil Peleton as the Ghost of King Hamlet and as Claudius delivered each performance with such grace and belief I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I knew what he was thinking, keeping me on the edge of my seat, wondering what he would do next, even though I knew the outcome of the story. My first sight of Gertrude the Queen seemed to be a too young casting choice but Jean Copland graciously dropped her young persona for finding a deeper meaning to her role as wife, mother, and whore.

All the actors worked together flawlessly. David Lawrence directed this production in the Newtown Community Center in a way to include the audience, sometimes more intimately than expected but always with style to keep us engrossed. Three hours can be a long time, but Hamlet gives us some of our most well known phrases: to be or not to be, get thee to a nunnery, sweets to the sweet, good night sweet prince & flights of angels sing thee to thy rest, frailty they name is woman!, the play’s the thing, and go not to my uncle’s bed (I’m sure that has been repeated since 1603.) What’s your favorite?

This production definitely accomplished its goal: bring great theatre to the community and they will come. The place was packed. The tea break was lovely too.

Queen Elizabeth Park, Raumati South Entrance

Walking in the dunes, along the beach, back into the trail N and I passed a man and his two dogs; a minute later we contemplated whether the dogs or the man made this pissing trail.

Free hugs

Broadway, Soho, New York, 2006. This threesome told me this is how they spend their spare time.
Can I take your picture?
Only if you hug us.....

Tail lights getting higher

Hudson Street, The Village, Manhattan, Nov., 2006. Waiting for Sean.

Barton Benes & Screaming Jesus

Barton Lidice Benes & Screaming Jesus

I had the privilege of visiting Barton Lidice Benes in his home in Greenwich Village this year. Here he is with one of his original works ‘Screaming Jesus’. Barton’s home is a museum, every inch is taken up with his work or the things he collects and he collects strange things. This is a New York apartment, which is average size and yet he has room for artifacts all over the world. In fact Barton has already made arrangements to have his apartment transported to a museum when he dies which will move everything intact, including his bed, TV, the remote and his ashes so he can continue to watch his favorite TV shows. Goggle Barton and enjoy so many images of his work. The weirdest item in his apartment for me was the bull’s head on the wall opposite the cooking area. Barton said someone sent it to him from abroad because he admired it. His work is amazing and beautiful.

Million Dollar Condos

Essex House Manhattan

The Park View refers to Central Park.

Even with a view I can’t get over these condo’s starting at $2,500,000. That doesn’t include maintenance or water or gas or electric or groceries or the maid. After being back in New Zealand for a week and living close to the sea with spectacular views and walking into the backyard where there are vegetables and flowers, I prefer living close to nature rather than having an apartment with a view of it.

I Stand Corrected

A recent email:

I ck in on your blog from time to time when im bored and surfing. glad to hear you've found peace in new zealand. thought you might like to be reminded that you did walk out out on another movie, 1995's leaving las vegas, a movie about suicidal alcoholism which also has strong scenes of violence against women, staring nicholas cage. take care.

I do remember the moment of walking out of that movie and I've been writing about that emotion ever since and will continue.....

In the meantime, what does 'stand corrected' mean? Does it mean that I stand up to be seen to acknowledge a wrong I committed in word or deed? Does it mean I mean it more than if I was sitting and acknowledged it? Or does it mean I've accepted the correctness, and I stand and take it like a man? What is the origin of this phrase that so easily fell off my tongue, without a thought?...I stand corrected....It's just a phrase, a title for the blog, but I'm sure its meaning is quite deep because when we use "I stand corrected," everyone knows what we mean.

Prison

LET'S GO TO PRISON. (on the bar of soap). Billboard, Canal Street, Chinatown, Manhattan, Nov 2006. "Welcome to the Slammer" is the marketing hook for a movie that apparently thinks sexual violence in prison is funny.

Bloody American Movies

On my second night back in New Zealand, I went to the Light House in Pauatahanui, a lovely theatre cafe next to a reserve with the only salt marsh in the North Island. A place where you can have a bite, a drink, a peaceful walk and top it off with a movie. The $16 ticket price is high and the ticket seller did not say it was for a reserved seat, which we discovered later. The menu is cafe style with only roasted vegetables for a vegetarian choice. “Just a little meat,” or a “little bit of cheese on top” is not vegan. I’m always surprised by how much meat everyone eats.

"The Departed," an American movie, directed by Scorsese seemed a good choice. But minutes into the sexist, racist banter by DiCaprio, Damon, Wahlberg and Nicolson I was squirming in my seat. Just in case we didn’t see men plummeting each other to satisfaction, the sound reminded us that the crushed skulls were indeed crushed beyond any doubt. The movie takes place in the 60’s, a cheap shot to use politically incorrect words....c___, n_____, p____ over and over again because cops and thugs really did talk that way on the job and off.

I have never left a movie before the end – before. 40 minutes into The Departed I bolted from the theatre feeling nauseous. I do not understand extreme violence as entertainment. And I do not agree with the producers that it is simply reflecting what the public wants. We live in extreme violent times, in our homes and on the battlefields. Why do we enjoy watching others, even in ‘fictional’ stories, being hurt? Why do we want to “see” so much blood? And even in the name of “no censorship,” why do we like to see men killing each other while calling each other cunts? My mind may know a movie is just a story on the silver screen, but every cell in my body takes in every bloody blow.

Ghandi

Ghandi, Union Square Park, Manhattan, Nov 2006

2 December 2006

1 December 2006

Nov 30 2006

Autumn/New York

At the airport Immigration said, "Welcome Home" and yes I do feel home, New Zealand, but miss my daughter. I left on Wednesday the 29th, arrived on Friday Dec 1st. Never had Thursday. I'll never have Nov 30th.

The last day is like the first, the first is the last. No responsibilities, technology, people I know. For 24 hours I was unreachable in between here and there. Trying to just be. As I fell off track I got back, focused and tried to stay in the moment. The trip is now in thepast, a moment in memory, not asking to be categorized as good or bad. Winter is behind me where it is 65 F (18.333 Celsuius) today in New York; and I'm in Pukerua Bay, Summer, where the sun is hot and the birds and trees say they missed me. And where it is 17 Celsius (62.6 F) -