Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Creepy Steve and the art fag salute!




I have been lucky to get on tour with the hottest Dj in Durban!
Creepy Steve as been touring for about month leading his trusty trawlers and art fags into oblivion . 

This weekend was no exception with the Its Alive party the next stop although not playing the whole entourage was coming. They didn't make any friends but plenty of fans I have a feeling there trawling and sprawling circus will be gathering steam tonight at the winston.







The Jumble Rumble rocked but the bus ticket saved my life!


The Jumble Rumble is market of clothes and art held by some of the coolest kids in Jhb that is held at the end of each month. This month its was at the nike gallery and Victims of Art where there representing our "vintage" clothes but mainly the big winners where the baseball jackets getting hugh respect and hype and even created a bidding war for the one. 

With it being the 18 one day to my birthday and catching a bus home at ten p.m to get back to Durban for a birthday breakfast with the Big Cheese of the Mcgee clan of Morningside , I wanted to get as many portraits with the frame before I had to bail for Park Station.It was great checking out the kids and the styles and basically networking again and looking after the stand and I got some fantastic shots but it was time to get going.

Now I will have to admit I had been drinking maybe three beers and a glass of punch but i wasn't drunk I had even eaten some chilli poppers but one of JR's friends decided to come for the short mission to town from melville and totally jinxed the whole trip with his statement, "look JR I DONT WANT TO BE GETTING ARRESTED TONIGHT."

Not even two hundred meters from the station, I can see the entrance of the fucking place. I see the sirens first then i here the WEE-WAA -WEE-WAA. Holy shit. An instant cold sweet takes residence on my forhead. Now I have already been arrested for a D.U.I if i get put in the slammer A. i will be held in JHB central station with all the lovelies of our criminal underbelly B. I will not be collecting my bail as I will be going straight to jail do not collect R200.Get the lube ready and be strapped with ciggies.

It didnt help that they found a half full beer lying in the car.Shit was looking good.
After he confirmed that i was indeed lying about not having a drink the bus ticket came in to play iI even threw in the one about its my birthday in two hours. With the sad face rocking the party he gives me a stern warning and says "if you didnt have this ticket you would be fucked!"

Another close shave I wonder how long this can go on for before this all ends in tears!


Glo bitch Glo!



Joburg is all about meet and greet and making sure your last shoot was a cracker!

After the shooting the vice party it seemed to get my name around town and people seem to be liking my party pics.

But today i was helping out OkmalumeKool Cat with a little project with the new Nikes that glo in the dark from the Nike Gallery in Mellville. We came up with shot list  in twenty min did some tests and wham bang thank you maam  we have a glo in the dark Stop motion. Thats why i Love my job ! You get there work out the problem and close the deal!

Look out for the the full edit soon! 



The Stock must be bought!





Missioned into town again to find stock for the Jumble Rumble with JR.

With the recesion in full swing but defintly evening out the second hand trade seems to be at all time high and baseball jackets and collage football  jerseys seem to be in demand.


Its moving in time!( this was our room warming...hahaha)




I evetually moved into my new spot.A tiny little room with a bathroom.Perfect for the next six months.

A little trek into the CBD for a side line project for my good friend Jamal.Who is working for a great magazine in London which has given him his own fanzine that they are printing for him.He wanted some authentic street photos .

I love this one.



3 Cities in 1 day.



No one travelled more in South Africa than I did that day I left Cape Town.The orange bitch took off from Cape Town at half seven. A full hour and half later than I expected which meant the argument with the taxi driver and all the rushing  was for nothing. Leave Cape Town - check! . The next part of the plan was for JR  to pick up "Carrie" from the studio, come to the airport and drive straight to JHB. Even with all the pleading JR was late but BIG PAPPA saved the day. Because he who knows how much I hate being late which he knows I inherited from him.I may be a disaster at many things but late I am not. My worst is when people are late for shoots or just plain dont bother phoning ahead to say they will be late. Man that really fucks me off! So I met JR at my dads studio slightly peeved but I had predicted this but he was still late, you understand?. The car had already been packed for my official Great Trek to my new home on the flatlands but I had to get there first .We spent an hour in Durban making sure everything was sorted (and picking up JR's luggage from the workshop because he forgot it in the car in the mad rush-typical) and then we hit the road. Move to Joburg- Check!
Phone your mother to tell her you are moving to a new a city.

Toll booths,stopping for petrol , Hawaiian burgers and making it up van Reenians pass without getting blown over Check!

We got to JHB by half five/six .Not bad 1800+ km in one day.I was on such a travel high I was bragging about catching a train back to Cape Town and skipping the JHB Vice party so I could say I have gone full circle...what amuses my head .... basically what I wanted to say when chatting about this day to whomever feeling very special was that it was a day of planes trains and automobiles(what ever dude).The ego adrenaline fantasy faded after media check in as I had a job to do.


The Vice Mag launch at the Baxter theatre was rad but not what I expected.The music was crazy , the venue radicle but the crowd seemed a little light on what I suppose would be the social elite of the Joburg instead it seemed more jock with a smattering of cool and the only other thing that I thought was disappointing was that I thought it was going to be the full New Young Pony Club but ...... she was beautiful and played some fantastic tracks.I danced! I m not much of dancer and I was rocking the jol.Shaking my ass with Danni and Chris , B and beautiful Kim and the crazy Ed-Hardon! Most fun !


Oh ja i thought the magazine was a little bit lite too !


What a mission.What a party. Three cities, two commercials and one new young pony!










Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Off to Cape Town 6-10 july.


I hate what happens to my ears when I fly .My ears quite literally cripple me to my knees and I break into a cold sweat when the plane decides to decend. The pressure builds up so much I just want to scream.If I was a spie and was kidnapped or found behind enemy lines and they wanted me to to get a hold of the digital microfilm all they would have to do to get me to spill the beans is keep me on a plane decending to the mountain till I freak out!

I filmed my first two commercials with Niceonesteve for a tools company. Not glam but the concepts are funny.I think they are on flighting on the Home network but we fucking cracked it.The rap party was small but late .I arrived home at 5 a.m and my key decided to say fuck you you can sleep outside.After half an hour of trying to scale the mountain-like walls I  was going to have to wake up the notriously ruthless Lou. She had already shouted at me the day before thinking I was Partridge who was In Pretoria publishing a paper or something but she laid into me about some bone ..."where is my fucking bone", "I had been saving up for that bone"...the whole time this rampage was being hurled at me all I could think was,"where is the hound?"

I woke up to find the other roommates had gone off to lead there daily lives  but I was stuck in my own personal saga like a drunk Rapunzel .I couldn't climb down and I could't climb out! In the backyard after failing at scampering the creeper attached to the wall I found a luck with a slanting roof that would get me to a meter from the top , the only thing was that there was some crazy electric fence. With all my cat skills of a big assed drunk bafoon I straddled the electric fence carefully and made my way to the neighbors roof  which happened to be those flimsy corrugated  rooves with a drop of 3 meters underneath it waiting for me to crash into. I scaled across back to the front of the building to where the road begins keeping to the edges. Unfortunately i was still too high but it was here where I found my navigators and biggest fans. These two chefs had been observing from across the road my slow progress and baffled at what this white bearded clearly still intoxicated dude was  climbing around on rooves with his very flash trench coat.

There navigation came in the way of a game of charades as they where behind a hugh big window across the road.I get there drift . "Cross over three more house's, there will be a door for you to enter".It was during my mounting and dismounting of rooves that where as periless as the the great Rooves of Highbury set with fantastic moss and crazy cool mould trying to send me to my possible future paraplegic self.

While I was putting my life at risk once again for one more drink the chef's had called on the front of house and the whole back kitchen to observe "The fool on the Roof".After the fifth house I launched and landed in a construction site and entered the street through the red door of paradise to a silent chef applause from behind the glass.
I bowed and I was off to find that beer! 

The July & Mr .Gunston 500



These are two events I have become totally bored and jaded about.But I got to pay the bills and was commisioned to take some snaps.

The July - on the 4th.
I think the July has to be the most boring event you can attend.Pusedo-prom dresses and high heels in long grass.Sounds like some bad Scobby-Doo skit.I did see a few brilliantly made pieces from the female show for the design competion and the male designer that won gave a great pulvic salute to the audiance with his male modle but other than that I would rather wake up with me having urinated on myself sleeping on the side walk in Winderemere.

The Mr . Gunston 500- on the 5 th.
Firstly I refuse to call this event anything else but the Gunston 500. It has to many fond memories for me as a young bodyboarder grom sitting on the bank at Bay all day and in the evening sneaking around drinking beer under the peer at the night surfing to call it the MR....
Its moved to Balito an apprently hotly debated manover but even thou the final was as dull as a high school surfing comp held on a Friday afternoon the competition was hugh sucesses due to the hugh swell earlier in the week.The womans event was forfited and split between the remaining ladys and the mens where comparing it to Hawaii which I thinks is pretty narley! A strange thing to be excited about in the surfing world?If anybody knows anything the GUNSTON has a notroious bad luck when it comes to swell.I used to get so bumbed when the likes of Slater ,Sunny Garcis and co use to come here and the waves where mushy 2 foot with a howling N.E wind.It always seems to hit two weeks before and/or a week afterwards.

The most exciting thing I saw all day on that main beach on the North coast was the crocodile with a missing front paw that was on display.I was so desperate for action that I secretly hoped for a vicious attack on one of the young rock spiders still burying themselves in the sand this late into the holidays.Sadly I had to settle for beer sparying over the champiion who I havnt even heard of. Well done dude!


"Are you MR.Viljoen and MR . Swanapoel?"




"Are you MR.Viljoen and MR . Swanapoel?"smiling through her seriously cracked lips of the blairy eyed middle aged white woman standing behind the Coca-Cola Confed cup media table.Not moments prior to this encounter with the baggy eyed hopefully paid volunteer woman,  myself and Mr Swanapoel where running a mock around the foyer of this larney hotle that Miss . Dangerfield had directed us to.A little too swanky for my liking which is probally the reason for childish behavour that was about to happen.

I look back at "Mr . Swanapoel" and return a confedant"Yes", to the now young stunning black girl who was issuing us with V.I.P layanards and room keys . She did inquire that we where 45 minutes early . I would like to think my comment went something like ,"As it goes!".I will like to get this out of the way but I had been drinking all afternoon with Miss Dangerfield and later with my partner in crime "MR.Swanapoel".These crazy people at this fine establishment didnt even bother to check for ID or enquire about our luggage.How is that even possible thanks god they dont work at the airport.Two men walk in to hotle taking photos of each other in Silver booths and you get offered a room.Game on!V.I.P room here we come.

We now had forty minutes to whack this for everythings its worth and hopefully not get busted.
The V.I.P room was deserted except for some food which we sampled, charged a couple of rounds of tequila and beer at the "Sqaure bar" to our rooms. While all the minutes count off the paranoia and excitement sets off as we keep leaving our passes and room keys all over the place and every time they aproach us we think we are busted and they just keep giving us back the rooms keys. To the rooms we go .The holy grail for the evening.

Giggling our way to the lifts, we the naughty threesom make our way to 408 to trash the room like the little rockin rolla's we think we going to be.After ruffling up the bed with a little double bounce (very rock n roll huh?) there is a knock at the door.Everyone panics as the gig appears to be up.

So Miss Dangerfield and Mr Swanapoel hide out in the toilets.With what hopefully seemed like little regard I open the door smiling with my heart pumping as fast as if I had the best sex ever but thinking here we go dude another arrest , the second of the year and this time it wasnt for illegal possession of municiapl property.Nothing like a bit of fraud ,theft and destruction of property to prop up your already existing Drinking and driving charge.

Mr. Swanapoel had left his room key down at the bar. I just laughed. A third time they had delivered our keys to our dirty illegal hands. It was time to bail.A quick exit down the fire escape seemd appropiriate only to be locked at the ground floor. We where going out the front door in hail of gun fire as the real MR Swanapoel and Mr Viljoen are entering the foyer.

We enter the foyer from the back of the lobby and calmly wave back at the confed lady and the hotle staff ,"we will see you later! thanks for the help."

Monday, July 27, 2009

The day the trucks blew over.




So I was off to JHB again for probably the 5th time in a month except I am the driver and it will be the maiden voyage for Carrie. Carrie has become my replacement car since the cops drove over my corsa bukkie( thats right they drove over my car while chasing some devilish thief... and they didn't even pay for the damages) two months ago.

The warning signs began shortly after PMB quite literally . The new electronic warning systems placed along our frantic freeways where blaring at me "Van Reenians pass is closed due to heavy wind " in crazy orange dot matrix printer font.My immediate thoughts where that this shit hadn't been updated from yesterday because nobody trusts those fucking boards especially in this country not our road service group any way.

About 50 km from the last steep climb to the plateau the line began. All I could think was what a fucking chop. The signs where there. In this twenty min hold up the rumours started to circle around the halted cars. Some older good looking woman was pacing through the the jam frantically phoning people. She had heard that 10 trucks had be blown over on the pass and we where stuck here till 10 p.m tonight. "FUCK!" , I remember thinking. After getting on the blower to the Papa McGee he trys to give me directions to take an alt route through the mountains.I abandoned his advice and waited it out. I wasn't turning back either which was his other piece of advice.This was unexceptble never retreat never go back....I cant handle the thought of driving all the way home to start the next day this isnt MT Everest here is it?The storm will pass and I will glide up my pass. This first hold up eventually passed and was attributed to a tiny Toyota (like mine) being blown off the road into a truck.

Speeding for the the toll before the pass starts to rise because more rumours where circling about only ten vehicles where allowed up at a time.This rumour proved to be false like the previous we had to endure with optimism . Four trucks had been blown over in the one spot but had now been cleared off to one side. Surrounded by only trucks we approached ground zero the place of action satisfaction. Moving slowly surrounded by 16 wheelers carrying Suburu 4x4's my imagination starts racing with possibilities of this red 4x4 being blown onto my Carrie mimicking the cops bizarre actions two months ago except with me in the car and this time I die. Not cool! This is about when I pissed off the cops for the first time by over taking about 16 trucks in a row I hear sirens hooting at me from my rear. I extend my hand out my window letting the violent wind fill my cock-pit and flip them a peace sign. The sirens stop.
My rise up this crazy hill was halted very promptly around the corner which happened to be the crash site. Brought to a snails pace I reached for the trusty camera and tried to shoot the carnage half way through getting the camera to my left eye the cops on the side of the road started beating the drum at me again. I smiled and passed with out snapping a pic . I thought fuck that.So I stuck the muzzle out of the window and pulled a few shots at the turned over carriages without looking.

The rest of the trip was quick and painless and windless.The only thing thats was entertaining was trying to get into JHB because I had only ever driven into JHB myself once and that was on the 26 of Dec 2008 to drop my ex - girl at the airport on her way to find the world and we got lost that time but somehow my inner GPS got me to the CBD and out of all places I know how to navigate JHB CBD due to JR.

Yay I found Troon st.
"Hi my name is Arielle! Did you just piss on my wall?"