Canvas of my Consciousness

amandapalmerphotos:

Expired black and white film from the GOMA ninja gig, Brisbane early 2012.

I was at this ninja gig. It was my first day back at work after the Christmas holidays, which had been amazing, so I was feeling quite deflated. I thanked Amanda for bringing so much colour to an otherwise dull day :)

(via amandapalmer)

neil-gaiman:

Have you ever written something that you worried your parents/family wouldn’t approve of or would be shocked by, even as an adult? If so, how did you get past it?

lisa-horstman

Yes. And I’ve written things that DID upset members of my family.

How do I get past it? I suppose because I feel my responsibility is to the story, not to myself.

I have no doubt that the people who love me sometimes sigh when they see versions of themselves portrayed oddly in stories, or read something I’ve written they consider wrong or distasteful. But they love me, and they get over it. And what the people who do not love think does not worry me at all.

http://neil-gaiman.tumblr.com/post/32734926340/hi-neil-any-plans-to-come-to-australia-in-february

I am totally going to whatever event he is at in Australia, like the giant creeper I am.

neil-gaiman:

serenefire:

Potentially the best thing to happen on the internet today.

It seems so neat when it’s laid out like that.

The second last post made me squeal with laughter in a really embarrassing way. As an aside, is it possible to squeal with laughter in a way that isn’t really embarrassing?

So I’ve decided to switch back to wordpress for my primary writing blog for original work. It’s a more professional platform, I think, for putting on resumes/portfolios and I find the layout easier for my requirements.

I will keep this blog going for the purposes of reblogging interesting and pretty things, and I will also be linking my wordpress posts back to here. If you want to keep up with the things I write, you can find my wordpress blog here. And don’t forget that you can also follow me on twitter here :-)

Quiet night in tonight whilst trying not to think about the fact that I could be out in the city or Valley ‘enjoying my youth’ (and by that I of course mean: spending way too much money, getting accosted by drunken creeps, making bad decisions, and spending most of tomorrow making dramatic and pointless declarations that “I will never drink again”). But given my mammoth pile of work consisting of an ill-considered screenplay, an unfinished (more like unstarted) essay, an underdeveloped writing project, and a half written book review, I really should just accept the inevitable hermitisation that will be my life from now until the end of the semester. Instead I’ve decided to take a brief interlude from my writer’s festival wrap up to write this small moment in which everything felt pleasantly circular, like I’m where I should be. 

I’m reading (and in some cases re-reading) quite a few books at the moment, and one of them is Zigzag Street by Nick Earls. A couple of days ago I was reflecting on the last time I read this book—in 2003, around six years after it was originally published—as a first year student at the University of the Sunshine Coast. It was one of our assigned texts and, although I enjoyed the novel, I wasn’t particularly happy about life. Not only was I inadequately prepared for the challenges and vast differences between high school and university study, but the Sunshine Coast’s only university just so happened to be right next door to my high school. Something that you may have already deduced about me: I really didn’t care for high school. A second fact: being a teenager on the Sunshine Coast sucks just a little bit when you view the many beautiful beaches as nothing more than a menacing threat to your new doc martins (hey, it’s not easy to get sand out of those grooves). So ultimately my dedication to studies at this point wasn’t all it could be, and I was more than happy to abandon it for a move to the big city.

I didn’t return to university until 2009. This time I was much better prepared thanks to my years of experience in admin jobs and several months of living alone in London which, needless to say, was a huge learning curve for me. Then, after studying at Griffith for a couple of years, I transferred to the University of Queensland. And now here I am, re-reading a book that I have since found out has some pretty strong links with the university at which I am currently studying. For example, the main character is based on senior writing lecturer Stuart Glover (if you don’t know what I’m referring to you can read all about that here in his Stuart’s article entitled ‘The Disloyal Subject: The Consequences of Non-Fiction in Zigzag Street’). Another UQ writing teacher, Veny Armanno, also features in the book under his own name (which I had totally forgotten about). And I’m sure there are plenty of other characters in the book based on figures in the Brisbane literary scene at the time.

I find it strangely fitting that the first thing I read as a university student would come up again almost ten years later, near the long anticipated completion of my degree, with a level of relevancy that I had no idea about at the time. I was a naive and, to be honest, hopelessly lost seventeen year old who had not yet realised that I was in fact doing exactly what I should be doing, that I would later be brought to life by my passion for my studies, under the tuition of the very people I was reading about in that book. The thought now makes me feel embarrassingly young and ignorant. Essentially though, it fascinates me and strengthens my connection to the city and the university that I has been building over my years here. And it’s this connection that brings me right back around to the Brisbane Writers Festival… but more on that later!

Tonight I took a well deserved bath—complete with candles, a glass of bubbly, and my rubber ducky—and reflected on the week that was. As I sunk into the pleasingly fragrant warm water, eager to soak away the aches, pains and stresses of a particularly exhausting (yet amazing) week, my housemate called to me through the door, asking me if I still wanted the pumpkin in the kitchen. Given that the once proud vegetable had started growing something that I suspect may have made an effective penicillin, I decided that it was time to let it go. A friend had bought it to us fresh from her mother’s farm, but needless to say it wasn’t so fresh anymore.

Of course, I had all the best intentions about the many delicious possibilities. I was going to make pumpkin soup, just like Mum used to make, sweet pumpkin pasties and maybe even some pumpkin scones. But alas, my culinary ventures had been impeded once again. I often wonder and daydream about what it would be like to actually have the time to do nice things like gourmet cooking, gardening, and learning to play the guitar. And I suppose its possible to find the time if those are the things you love. Because I certainly found the time last week for what I love.

The last five days of my life have been primarily consumed with the Brisbane Writer’s Festival—a five day orgy of literature, debate, discussion and creativity running from Wednesday the 5th of September. However, my immersion was in the most willing and gratifying way possible. I volunteered for the festival for the second time, having had such a wonderful first time volunteering experience in 2011. I’m not sure if it was the extra year’s worth of writing subjects at UQ or the even more festive atmosphere that seemed to come with the festival celebrating it’s 50th year, but I somehow had an even better time this year. And this is how it went (in two parts, because evidently my constant struggles with being concise extend to blog posts).

The festival kicked off on the Wednesday with Word Play, an ingenious and remarkably well put together program for students from grades 4-10. I was stationed at The Edge, with a few other lovely volunteers, to supervise and generally assist with the workshops and sessions being run there. This one really is a great venue. As it’s name suggests, The Edge is situated just shy of the Brisbane river, which means it makes the most of the impressive city skyline views that one can’t help but be inspired by, especially on days as beautiful as the ones we enjoyed throughout the festival. On a normal day, the venue provides a large and multifunctional space that can be used for individual or collaborative work. It also hosts a bunch of creative, technological, artistic and scientific courses and meet ups (I’m particularly keen to get to the next mad scientist tea party).

I sat in on a couple of sessions throughout my two days there and particularly loved Katherine Battersby’s presentation. Katherine is the author and illustrator of the adorable Squish Rabbit books, and it was truly inspiring to see how wonderful she was with the kids and how excited they all got. My favourite part of the session had to be when Katherine drew her little rabbit on a white board, who was thinking about the ultimate burger. She encouraged the children to raise their hands and make suggestions of what to put on the burger, so they started suggesting things like a beef patty, cheese, bacon, lettuce etc. I couldn’t help but grin when Katherine informed them that they didn’t necessarily have to limit themselves to conventional burger toppings (cue suggestions of rabbits and chicken wings and ice cream). But yes, Katherine seems a really lovely and luminous person. And she shares my not-so-secret love of polka dots. World Play was really quite inspiring. I surprised myself slightly with how just much I enjoyed seeing the children so enthusiastic about reading and writing (quite possibly because they remind me of myself as a young child, and nothing much has changed in that respect!). It made me revisit previous ideas of being a teacher, so that’s certainly something to think about further.

On the Thursday I somewhat reluctantly went to uni instead of spending the day working at the festival, but was rewarded for my dedication with the awesome guest lecturer that our teacher Veny Armanno had arranged for us. Jordan Bass spoke to us about the incredibly unique and innovative approach that McSweeney’s has to publishing. As I was unable to catch one of Jordan’s sessions at the festival this was a great opportunity. I can’t pretend that I wasn’t tempted to jump a plane to San Fransisco to do an (unpaid) internship, like Veny (jokingly?) suggested to us all. If only! If you’re not aware of their McSweeney’s Quarterly publication do check it out.

Thursday night saw me at the Breezeway to help out with bar tending and the general running of The Pineapple Lounge for the Festival First Night drinks. I understand that the illustrious Ms Greer may have ruffled a few feathers with her opening address, but there’s really nothing new there (as an aside, she was actually rather brilliant at the Great Debate but more on that later). Anyway, nothing that copious amounts of free wine and beer can’t remedy. Oh and let’s not forget the ‘champine’ (a dangerously moreish and rather well received Pineapple Lounge concoction of white rum, pineapple juice, fresh mint and passion fruit). The atmosphere that The Pineapple Lounge brought to the always vibrant atmosphere of the Breezeway made this year’s festival particularly special.

As I and a throng of other volunteers busied ourselves setting things up, Melbourne band The Twoks ran through a couple of their songs in rehearsal for their performance later that night. I’ve always been big on small, seemingly insignificant moments…on that certain feeling that you can’t quite describe but know will stay with you for a long time, triggered by something like a scent or a song. And this festival that moment, where I truly appreciated the beauty of the astounding creativity and talent of everyone around me, was in the first few seconds of their song “Take it Slowly”. You can listen to it on You Tube here, or on their website. 

But more on The Twoks and the Breezeway later. For now, as this post has reached somewhat epic proportions, I will continue it in part two. Stay tuned!

When it comes to feeling out of place, there’s nothing quite like being dressed in a Sherlock Holmes costume on a train full of Brisbane Roar supporters. Yet this was my experience on my trip home from Gold Coast Supanova earlier this year. Having spent the weekend reveling in a delightful sense of belonging at the two day convention, I was abruptly returned to a more familiar state of not quite fitting in as the swarm of orange-clad soccer fans descended on the train at Milton station. Though my unusual attire didn’t attract as much attention as I would have expected, quite a few curious glances were aimed my way. A mother and young child sat opposite me; the little girl displaying the open fasciation typical of her age.
“How was it?” her mother asked me in a friendly tone, gesturing to the Supanova show bag I held.
I was slightly taken aback, but we had a pleasant conversation until I had to depart the train at my station. On the walk home I questioned myself as to why I found the experience strange. After all, wasn’t it a bit judgmental of me to assume that a sports fan couldn’t also be interested in an event like Supanova?

But the truth is, to many people outside of what is collectively referred to as ‘fandom’, these individuals live in an entirely different world. In my explorations of academia on the subject of fans and fan communities, I stumbled across a tidy definition in a book entitled Theorizing Fandom. According to the authors, ‘fandom’ generally signifies the social and cultural environment inhabited by those who identify as ‘fans’. Another specialist, Paul Booth, points out in his recent book Digital Fandom that the word can refer to a fan of music, sports, or even food, and that everyone is a fan of something. But no matter what we are a fan of, our appreciation of it becomes part of our identity. Similarly, the all encompassing term ‘geek culture’ commonly refers to the ideas, customs and lifestyles of those who identify as fans.

A fandom functions as something of a secret society; a world created for and by the fans and the fans only. Just like any covert operation, there are some identifying features. For example, there are a collection of words and phrases that make sense only if you speak the cryptic language of the community; there are badges, t-shirts and jewellery bearing obscure references that can only be deciphered by fellow fans who often identify themselves with a subtle “I love your earrings” or a less subtle “I love you” (yes, really). Yet despite this fact, I’ve met so many like minded people this year that I’m beginning to feel like a serious fan magnet.

It can be difficult to determine whether there are more fans (or possibly just more people who are admitting to the title) or whether technological advances and an increased popularity in geek culture have simply made it easier to connect with them. But with ever increasing attendance at conventions like Supanova, I am inclined to think that it is the former. With close to 40,000 followers on facebook, and media coverage by every major national newspaper and news channel, Supanova Pop Culture Expo is certainly not the relatively obscure event that it once was. In fact, according to a graph on the Supanova website, attendance in Brisbane has more than doubled since the expo’s inception in 2002, going from around 8,000 guests to almost 20,000. The event, which was originally held annually in Sydney and Brisbane only, now also takes place in Melbourne, Perth and the Gold Coast with the new editions also showing rapid increases in attendance each year.

Amber, 18, and Liz, 26, are both self proclaimed fans of the shows Supernatural, BBC Sherlock and Doctor Who, and became friends when they met at Supanova in April this year. Since then they have both been to All Hell Breaks Loose, a Supernatural convention in Sydney, and several fan meet-ups. In an interview, Liz explains: “I love the fact that we made friends at Supanova purely based on fandom reasons”. A huge part of fan interaction is still based on communications over the internet, especially social networking sites such as Twitter, and blogging platforms like Tumblr, which is home to a countless number of dedicated fan-blogs. But many fans agree that web communication has its limitations, and to some of them this real life interaction is crucial. Whilst Amber has frequent exchanges with many of her nearly 900 followers on Tumblr, and even has Skype conversations with some of them, Liz states that “You don’t know who you’re talking to on Tumblr. You might think that you do based on the things that they post but you don’t— you can never actually know someone until you meet them in real life”.

Michelle, 24, has been a Supanova volunteer for the past three Queensland conventions, and has attended as a guest several times before that. Her interest in the event comes as a surprise to some, given that her main passion is sport. Michelle particularly enjoys supporting her homeland team, the New Zealand All Blacks, in Rugby Union. She reveals to me that although geek culture is not one that she strongly identifies with, she finds that the other volunteers are friendly and accepting. When asked what her favourite part of being a volunteer at Supanova is, Michelle replies “I think its the friendships you develop with the other volunteers. You don’t have to be fake, whoever you are, who cares, that’s fine”.

In addition to the popularity of big conventions like Supanova, there are also frequent smaller events, meet-ups and venues at which fans can interact. Brisbane alone is full of them: there is the local branch of the Doctor Who Club of Australia, which hosts monthly meetings where ‘Whovians’ can watch episodes and chat to one another. The University of Queensland has it’s own Harry Potter Alliance and Quidditch Team. And then there are places like The Mana Bar, which again originated in Brisbane and has since opened in Melbourne, with plans to expand both nationally and internationally. Being a cocktail bar primarily dedicated to console gaming, it is fair to say that venue appeals to a fairly niche market. But believe me when I say that this does not stop the place from becoming absolutely packed on a Friday and Saturday night. Speaking again of the importance of face to face meetings, Liz excitedly tells me that “there is nothing more fun than getting together with people in the same fandom as you who feel as strongly as you and talking to them about it—” here Amber agrees “—It just gives you this feeling of incredible connection to people, and I don’t really know any other time that you feel that kind of connection”. 

But despite the growth of conventions like Supanova and a shift in attitude towards geek culture due to hit TV shows like The Big Bang Theory, many people in the general public still remain baffled by fans and their practices. And yet, so many that claim little or no understanding of fandom in this sense are fans nonetheless. Australians are unarguably passionate about their sport with, for example, over 2.5 million viewers tuning into State of Origin game one in May this year. Where fan communities worship actors, writers, directors and artists, sports fans have different Gods. Michelle states that a great deal of Rugby Union and Rugby League’s appeal is in “seeing people perform really well”. And like fandom culture, a big part of the experience comes down to the atmosphere: “It’s easier to get into it when you’re there and you’re not a sports person because the atmosphere gets you carried away with it, especially with a game like State of Origin”, Michelle explains. 

According to an article by Amir Ben Porat, sports fans share a similar sense of investment in their passion, allowing it to become a central interest in their lives and become an integral element of their personalities. Their commitment is evident in emotional, social and mental areas of their lives, and their behaviour, their clothing, the way they spend their time, and their relationships and interactions with others all reflect this. But of course, there are still many differences between football and fandom. Liz argues that it is a different mind set: “we are literary, writing type people so we appreciate things like the scripts and the characters”, whereas those who are really into sport focus more on admiration of the athlete’s abilities. As someone who is involved in both cultures, Michelle believes that the biggest difference between the two is probably the crowd: “When you go to a football game you talk to the person next to you and then you leave and that’s it. At Supanova you meet people and you almost become friends…I have so many people on my facebook from Supanova, but nobody from a League game”.

When it comes to fandom, the bottom line seems to be the sense of belonging that arises from being in a community of like-minded people. Being a fan of something, no matter what form it may take, is reflected not only in our actions and in our passion but also in our identity. It is part of who we are and what makes us unique. According to Amber and Liz, being part of the fandom world, and feeling accepted by its occupants, is one of the best feelings in the world. And although Michelle feels more at home in the sporting community, she agrees with this sentiment: “It’s about learning to be comfortable. Who cares about what anyone else thinks, as long as you’re happy and you’re doing what you want to to do”.

Last weekend my friends and I attended a fandom meet-up, once again in costume. I was amused to hear stories about their respective train or bus rides to get to the venue, which were not unlike my own experience coming back from Supanova (though they involved decidedly less orange clothing). We agreed that the curious glances made us feel uncomfortable, but were sustained by the knowledge that we would soon be amongst individuals who not only accept but celebrate our eccentric ways. On the topic of acceptance, Liz sums it up beautifully: “People say we waste our lives being obsessed with fandom, but I say some of the most fun times in my entire life have come from being in fandom…does it really matter how much people value what we do so long as we enjoy the fact that we’re doing it?”

Explain, and provides examples of, what Linda Hutcheon means when she says “adaptation as adaptation involves, for its knowing audience, an interpretive doubling, a conceptual flipping back and forth between the work we know and the work we are experiencing” (A Theory of Adaptation 139).

Adaptations are popular amongst a broad range of mediums. One of the reasons for this is because they appeal to both new audiences and those who are familiar with the source text. In A Theory of Adaptation, Linda Hutcheon writes that “adaptation as adaptation involves, for its knowing audience, an interpretive doubling, a conceptual flipping back and forth between the work we know and the work we are experiencing” (139). In this essay, I will explore adaptations of Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes stories to discuss Hutcheon’s assertion. Due to the many adaptations of the original novels, I will focus on the 1984 BBC adaptation The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, starring Jeremy Brett and David Burke, the 2009 and 2011 Guy Ritchie films starring Robert Downey Jr and Jude Law, and the 2010 BBC adaptation Sherlock, starring Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman. I will identify some of the parallels between these adaptation and the original in relation to characters, relationships and settings. I have chosen to explore these three adaptations as they each interpret the Canon very differently.