DIRTY H∆NDS

aliceangela:

I’m Going Back To France! 

Guess what guys? I found out a couple weeks ago that I got accepted to do this great painting course in a tiny village in France called Argenton-Chateau at this great studio.

In a week of crazed painting and nudity I convinced the two Julz’s of my life** to strip down and sit for me, in order to get the necessary live figure pieces done for my application. Julio arrived at my place at 11am on a Saturday morning, with 30 minutes of shut-eye to his name and a dj/beer hangover from a 6 hour stint the night before. I connected my laptop to the TV, loaded all the RA REAL SCENES videos ( his fav ) as he flopped on the couch. NOTE: if you need someone to get naked and sit still for you for a very long period of time it really helps if they are hungover because they are likely to drift in and out of sleep- meaning they are STILL for long-and require nothing but cheesy Pizza and oceans of water. 

I’ve digressed. 

The point is that I am SUPER excited for August! SO excited in fact that I’ve picked up French again. I shudder at the thought of ANYTHING coming between me and my copious amount of bread/cheese consumption in France, especially if it’s as lame as a language barrier. 

I’ve somehow always been blessed with amazing French teachers i.e. throughout my turbulent relationship with the language of love I always find myself colliding with really passionate and genuinely interesting people. Which is more than I can say for my stints in German.

First there was Madame Juditte. She was lonely and crazy and used to use our French classes in primary school to get a bunch of 14 year olds to sign her petitions to free white lions- but she taught us great nursery rhymes and we did free a white lion called Mara.

Then in high school there was Madame Van Zyl- who loved me, which I knew because she always asked me to read to the class when she was too tired to. And apart from her slight balding patch that one could see from the second floor balcony when she left her classroom- everything about her exuded a very learnt french flair. She was also Afrikaans and we all know those are the best types of people.

Then there was Madame Joisette. She lived a block away from my house in a small cottage, and I used to go to her for extra lessons during high school. She made me read tales of animals from dusty old books whose pages were yellow with age and her house always smelt of rosewater and lavender. I still have her unbeatable Pavlova recipe. I also have her to thank for drilling into be the quintessential pronunciation of French ” rrrrrr”.

Once I moved to the Medieval town of East London in 2007 all the knowledge I had thus gained seemed to be pushed far down into a rusty pit of oblivion because no high school I attended there was able to offer it. And so as these thing go with languages, everything but a few neat phrases, seemed to vapourize in the swelling information overload that is modern life. Until this year.

Now there’s Thomas at the Alliance Francaise du Cap. He is cheerful and has the brightest blue eyes and knows a lot about French wine. He introduced me to ” INTOUCHABLES” for which I am eternally grateful. 

After my painting course is complete I want to go to Lyon for its annual film festival because why would I need to explain that this would be a good idea?

If any of you knows of a great thing to do around the Angers/Nantes/Lyon area DO NOT hesitate to drop me a line.

À BIENTÔT

** Julio= boyfriend // Julia=sister

Hey Gang, 

GUESS WHO HAS V1.0 OF AN ACTUAL WEBSITE?

( Me )

Getting so 21 century for y’all. 

Check it: http://alicetoichart.4ormat.com/thestalked

( I know the convoluted domain is so not a vibe but will have that sorted out ASAP).

I had a princess themed party on Friday evening to celebrate my 22  years of ruling over Wonderland. Everyone dressed up in pink and sparkles and gold and TOO MUCH. It was an incredibly special evening and I even baked a 5 tier Madeira cake which I iced in ombre pink layers and bejeweled! I also made some lace crowns which is way easier than you think! You basically soak crocheted lace of your choice in fabric stiffener and allow to dry over night. Glue together in the morning and you can also dust them with glitter by applying modge podge glue or spray paint them metallic! I left them pure and lacy because I loved the contrast of what they appeared to be, soft and delicate, and what they were, stiff and solid. I also just love the aesthetic of plain lace. 

I finished the 3 portraits in 3 days. It was invigorating.

I would like to do some more tweaking when I head back up to East London.

Until then taking on some commissions in Cape Town.

I’m painting a picture of my daddy, who is pretty much the best person on Earth.

I am still boggled as to how it took me so long to do this but I’m glad it is now and I’m also glad it is at Bernie’s Studio.

I started at 4pm today and didn’t stop till 8:30pm. 

I would have gone all night…

Sunday bike rides with the boy are the best!

We usually chose Sunday because the inner city is a ghost town and we can own the roads like the self-entitled cyclist that we aren’t but secretly want to be.

We start up in Kloof make our way down Loop, cross the highway and head to buy treats and coffee at the Waterfront market. After gorging ourselves and buying a few extra packets of dried pineapple and cocoa clusters we head to Sea Point, where we continue to lie around like fat seals on the grass in the wind-twisted trees. 

We like doing this because we see interesting things like:

-that guy with his majestic Cockatoo 

-a stoned guy on a skateboard being pulled by his dogs

-a bergie spooning his dog with so much love

-people extreme-strolling ( taking their babies in prams for speed runs)

-people speaking to seagulls: which always makes me feel better about myself

-sunsets

-actual South Africans enjoying actual public space in unison 

Pics taken with 100 ISO 35mm film on Lomography Fisheye ( chrome ) 

A few weekends ago Stine, Claud and I took a drive up to Franschoek. It was Stine’s birthday and I wanted to treat her to something special that she couldn’t lose. Our long boozy lunch at Slamon Bar tipped over into a wine-glazed, playful swim back at the guesthouse in the warm summer air. It was the single best hour of life.

I also coaxed Stine in to hiking Mount Rochelle with me the next morning.

She was unimpressed, yet determined. 

These are some of my favourite double-exposure snaps form the weekend. 

Copious glasses of white wine= double exposure happy snappy Alice.

They have all been taken on my La Sardina with 35 mm 200 ISO film that was cross-processed to maximize awesomeness.

Warning!! This post may be steeped in shameless nostalgia.

Anybody who knows me, knows that I am a spaces person. For some or other reason I feel the deepest and purest compulsion to peer into other people’s spaces-made evident by the hours of wasted wifi I spend on The Selby, Arrested Motion’s Studio visits and basically any/every real estate website ever. I can’t explain this to you, or to myself. Perhaps it’s my minds way of prepping me for owning one million homes one day when I am all swimming in cash dollah. Maybe it’s fueled by the innate curiosity we- as humans- all have to ” see what’s on the other side of the fish tank”. More probable an explanation though is that I just have a very sad case of creepinitis. I like to look at people’s homes and work spaces and oooh and aahhh at all the pretties and then construct how I would have shaped the space/furniture/windows differently to make it better.

Anyways, I have been super fortunate to have inhabited two really great studio spaces over the past few years since moving to Cape Town and I had to leave them both. Born out of my iron conviction that all artists need a place to go and make a proper mess in while fully embracing the deconstructive/constructive/deconstructive instinct of a child without the worry of clean-up on the immediate conscious level, I sought them out.

My first was a nice big 27 squared meter room I rented in 2011 when the Old Industrial Centre still existed. It was on the 4th floor and I had my own room but shared the space with Mike, a photographer and Joanie, a sound designer. They each had their own spaces and Mike, although almost fossilized himself, was one of the nicest and most helpful people I’ver ever met. Joanie’s studio walls were squishy and dark blue- which I liked.

I rented my second studio in 2012. It was on the corner of Bree and Pepper Str in town situated in a shabby but perfect building called ” Rivets and Rockets”. What was even better was that ,for the most part- I shared it with the best of people ( see “welcome” note from Jotam to see just what a great person he was). Zara, Julio, Jotam and I shared the space although we never collided within the space nearly enough.

11. Reasons I loved the Rivets and Rockets Studio:

1.

Patricia and Toni, the landlords were grown-up children who made drones in their spare time and came to my exhibition. ( Their daughter was also the incarnation of Lilo form Lilo and Stitch).

2.

It was sunny. It was rough around the edges.

3.

Julz and I could go there after a night out.

4.

I could go there and make a mess.

5.

I could go there just to go there.

6.

We had a great Persian rug donated by the kind and gracious Elu.

7.

It was a 2 min walk from Jason’s Bakery- if ever I felt bourgeoisie and hungry.

8.

I dreamt about bringing a mattress in and never leaving.

9.

Sometimes me and Laura would walk from her studio to my studio to her studio on Friday afternoons just because we could. Then I’d guide her around the city until we felt hungry. ( Note: guide not jointly stroll)

10.

In the evenings, orange light would reflect from the Pepper Club Hotel windows into the studio and ensure that even when the city was falling into darkness, I’d still have enough natural light to draw with.

11.

It was the only place I was guaranteed to bump into Zara after she became a social hermit.

Things I didn’t like about the studio:

1.

It cost monies.

2.

It was a MISSION to clean.

3.

The lady in the offices next to us started complaining about Julz making next-level beats a month before we left and that made him all self-conscious and annoyed every time he tried to be a emotionless techno producer.

Now all my stuff from the studio is sitting around my apartment- which I don’t mind because it’s welcome mess. Luckily my sister Julia, is the best person. Or else we’d have a problem. I don’t want to rent another studio until I can one day buy a studio because I hate leaving them. The End.