The quote opening my proposal (also listed in the beginning of my blog), spoken so elegantly by Portia de Rossi in the novel below,

I just finished reading the epilogue which, as intense as the book was, I found particularly difficult to read. Although I'm pleased I finally did, for the hope it has provided me with.

Beginning to feel a little on edge..

Folio submission on Friday! Cannot concentrate.

Soon enough I will be heading back out to Lindeman's winery to visit my wall drawing location and take some quality shots with my digital SLR, hopefully the girl is still in-tact.

Dad steps in

Reluctant to put my face on here, me pasting

the girl

the wall

Drawing, completed, before I adhered it to the wall

Below are some more shots around my drawing site.

Ahh, wall drawing completed.

At first I was concerned this wasn't going to work out.. as the piece was layered with several different paper types and the glue (although quite effective) would only adhere to the base of the drawing. With this said, I was VERY thankful to have my father, the helper by my side.
A lot of the time, I am far too gentle in my approach and was failing in my attempt to control the outcome of this project. Dad grabbed a brush and did not hold back, slopping generous amounts of glue over the pages. The pages ripped and the letters smudged, dirt from the wall mixed through the glue as I got my hands dirty sealing the edges. Still, it's therapeutic to walk away from something not so perfect, and happily bear the results.

Embarrassed to find spelling errors on my posts

I did plan on pasting up my wall drawing yesterday, but unfortunately this was not the case. My Father, who has access past the winery's security, injured himself.
We have now arranged for Wednesday (26.09) to carry out our plans and fingers crossed the weather will be on my side as it would have been yesterday.

These things happen.

Glue Tests

Making Glue

Layering Pages

Journals and diary's, most of which are filled with anxieties, affirmations
and illegible scribbles. 

Ok, to further explain, the diary pages are the core of my wall drawing..
They were recorded during the peak of my illness and to incorporate them into my drawing I am symbolically 'letting go' of something that is imposing on my recovery.

My wheat paste was a success!

Tested it with a few left over diary pages.. images up soon..

I felt concerned after recieving an email stating non-placelikehome had been suspeced as a 'spam blog'. So I haven't been allowed to post for a few days, all seems to be working now, however..

I considered two other locations before settling on the Pickers hut shown in my last post, one of which was the decrepit shack shown here. At first glance I thought this was to be my site, however upon entering and discovering the absolute mess left by squatters along with the eerie sounds of pigeons residing in the roof, I then knew this was not to be my secluded hideaway.

Site

Drawing site

Due to my solitary and reserved nature, I was wanting to find a space anonymous to those living outside of it. It will be a non-place transformed into my own place of dwelling.

This once useful pickers hut has been stripped from the inside, out. I has been sectioned off with warnings of asbestos and is not to be demolished, so I don't think anyone would act to impose on this space.

Miso, untitled, 2009

I find Miso's elegant and feminine aesthetic very appealing. This work in particular demonstrates the scale I am working towards for my own drawing.

I am desperate for any form of motivation to move past this lack of energy, I have become very unproductive..

'Anthropology'
          - the study of human societies and cultures and their development.

If a place can be defined as relational, historial and concerned with identity, then a space which can not be defined as relational, or historical, or concerned with identity will be a non-place.. spaces which are not themselves anthropolocial spaces.

                    - Augé, M. 1995, NON-PLACES Introduction to an Anthropology
                      of Supermodernity, pp77-78

Anorexia was my first love. We met and were and were instantly attracted to each other. We spent every moment of the day together. Through its eyes I saw the world differently. It taught me how to feel good about myself, how to improve myself, and how to think. Through it all, it never left my side.

Loosing anorexia was painful, like loosing your sense of purpose. I no longer knew what to do without it to consider.

                     - De Rossi, P. 2010, Unbearable Lightness.