JOHN-PAUL HUSSEY

John-Paul Hussey © 2011

APOCALYPTIC DROP BEARS

My vision for 2012: millions of them raining down from the heavens. Dont dare pick them up and squeeze or they’ll play Ric Astley’s Never Gonna Give You Up for the rest of eternity.

A SAFE SHOP

I asked the man holding fort, if he was the owner of the business. He said yes, but his wife owns the building. A rather odd thing to say. He was a little reluctant for me to take pictures – for security reasons, but when I told him it reminded me of the closing scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark, he said sure fire away. So I did; this by the way is only a small fraction of the safes he has stored here in North Melbourne.

SLOW

There are roadworks here in Kensington almost on a daily basis, that it seems like they’re running a small college on how to rip the road up and put it all back together again. 

MANIKIN’S HEAD

Charging erection anyone?

Cnr of Russel & Little Collins Streets, Melbourne

This was taken outside Flinders Train Station in Melbourne. The guy in the tiny red shorts was talking over some political point to a woman looking after the International Socialists table, that always parks itself in the same spot in the city.

This guy is a giant, as you can see, and the woman holding her ground was not short at all. He must be at at at least 6ft 7, but it was also his outfit with the lace-less army boots that got my attention to take the shot.

Not such good lighting here, but at least it shows the true size of this guy.

That same night I was meeting up with my former editor, Fotis. A larger than life character in all respects. He’s Greek and may have more pairs of cuff-links than I have shoes.

Ironically, I found this on the kitchen table when I returned home that night. It’s one of those toys that expand 10 fold when placed in water.

All pics taken on an iPhone 4

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Good morning and welcome to the first day of daylight saving. This picture was taken in a junk shop in Footscray. I wasn’t too sure how to title it at first. Initially it seemed like a comedy festival program and the frustrating business of trying to select a show.

Then it reminded me of the time when living in a warehouse in the city with the goldsmith Marcos Davidson. We were on the top floor and there was a nightclub called ICON directly below, and each weekend we had to suffer the sound of these massive bins of glass bottles in the alleyway being emptied each morning.

It has quite a specific sound, of glass smashing but not quite breaking, that it eventually became affectionately known as ‘The Sound of  10,000 Suburban Hangovers.’

But what are these boxes with the moving monster claw called? Because I have  no idea. Rudy, my partner’s 9 year old daughter, has no idea either but says there’s one in the New Market Safeways called, ‘WIN n’ GRIN’.

Art work courtesy of Rudy created while I was writing this post. So yes why not – lets called it WIN n GRIN….you may need a mirror to read her inscriptions though.

Behind Hosier Lane, The UNTIL NEVER Gallery.