Here is an extended version of my contribution to the book Otherhood – Essays on being childless, childfree and child adjacent, edited by Alie Benge, Lil O’Brien and Kathryn Van Beek and published May 2024 by Massey University Press. This version has the addition of my interrogation into the concept of ‘the Other’ both from my art theory background and in light of the topic of the book.
“My life is not enhanced by little wriggling ‘bundles of joy’, that are emblems of hope and a future, yet it most definitely is not defined, or lacking, by being without them.“
Weird Fiction in Art: Robert M. Scott’s Unique Expression
Who is Robert Scott? Well, a famous Robert Scott is, of course, Captain Robert Falcon Scott, the doomed Antarctic explorer. A personality so steeped in legend that the man himself is buried somewhere within mysterious tales of adventure, heroism, and madness.
The Robert M. Scott of Dunedin, (Ōtepoti, Aotearoa), who came to my partner’s David Lynch themed 40th as a convincing Twin Peaks character – the FBI Gordon Cole, carrying a selection of Lynch soundtracks on cassette tapes, is, among certain circles, also steeped in legend.
Weird fiction is usually associated with literature and more recently, video games. Here however, I lay the term over Robert M Scott’s paintings and visual art. Keeping it local, lets reference Chris Lam’s 2024 University of Otago’s Master of Arts thesis titled The Simulated Weird, Video Games, Weird Fiction, and Gothic Horror.
My essay is written in celebration of Robert’s exhibition.
Exploring cultural identity and feminism using the body in art with a focus on Angela Tiatia’s 2014 video artwork, Walking the Wall.
Is your body your own? Within it you experience; through it you express. Yet our bodies are surveilled and are regulated, both from without and from within ourselves. More than we often realise. Think Foucault.
Angela Tiatia uses her body to express the contradictions that push and pull on bodies. My essay draws upon thinkers in this sphere including Olu Oguibe and Brendan Hokowhitu, and a feminist art heritage.
In Walking the Wall Angela Tiatia uses her body to assert and explore female indigenous heritage and identity in a society annexed by Western culture. Of Pacific Island heritage Tiatia is aware of the changing world in which we live. She has concerns about how globalisation does, and will affect people. Layered on this is both her particular connection with neo-colonialism and feminist views – these she believes, “sits on the body”. In her actions in this artwork she is presenting the ‘absurdity’ of these conflicting ideals placed on women within the indigenous milieu.
the concluding instalment of Where Scorpions Fear to Tread
The Butterfly and the Tree follows on from Where Scorpions Fear to Tread. Rejoin Anodos and Psyche as they discover the story of their parents and the underground network to save souls. Travel with them as they wrestle with their fears and that to face their destiny they must learn to trust. This is a star-like narrative 🌟– you’ll go out to a tip from where you may gain a new view, and then back in, all the while, a shooting star moving towards the one destination. Around an hour’s reading time. Much love, Bice ❤️🔥
Digital fictions have been living in the shadowland since the beginning of the internet in the late 1970s. Fictions on floppy disks; fictions read and followed on email – Rob Wittig’s fabulous Blue Company, 2002; blogs – Matthew Baldwin’s super fun The Live Journal of Zachary Marsh, 2004; drip fed in bite-sized suspense – Jennifer’s Egan’s artful Black Box, 2012 via Twitter. And in computer code.
Of course hypertext opens new portals for fictions, the obvious wander being into choose-your-own-adventure territory which in turn leads onto consequence of choice. Then we start to tread the fine line of story and game – an ongoing subject of debate. Stake your territory. Moreover, let’s not get into the well hashed over discussion of internet self-publishing. In this Tiktok era ‘chat’ (aka textstory) stories abound, ones that read like you’re receiving text messages. It is said that digital fictions are immersive. One could argue so are books, perhaps more so. Whatever the case, the idea is to write to the medium, even appropriate it for your story telling purposes.
In 2009 Chris Klimas created Twine an open source software platform that anyone could use to write or create games – or that blurred ‘in-between’ such as the profound With Those We Love Alive, 2014 by Porpentine. Twine is useful for teaching students about the possibilities of digital fiction, for experiencing the places you can go with it, the types of stories suited to this medium. We teach it at Ōtākou Whakaihu Waka-University of Otago in our Creative Writing paper.
When I got the chance between work and life, over a period of two years, I wrote my Twine fiction. It’s not a game, you’ll see consequences to your choices, but like the character you inhabit, they are inner questions and learning experiences. In essence the story goes on, like the characters drawn to their destiny you have a destination. This story of mine reimagines characters from history and literature. The story world is in the land of Phantastes and time is a fluid realm. My imagined characters take from their originals. One of the delights of this type of fiction is the ability to ‘pop out’ sideways which I do to explanation pages, although in digital fiction there are no pages, but rather interlinking ‘nodes’ or passages.
Another creative option is the multi-media facet, images, sound and dynamic text. This dynamic text means reader interaction. Clicked-on links move the story along and provides the options. I say ‘reader’, some say ‘player’, either way it is your ‘human’. Therefore like any artwork, it is human to human. You might say, ‘well an AI can create an artwork’. I’d respond, ‘yeah that sucks. Anyway, a human had to ask it’. Because human to human is where signification, initiation and expression lies. Because people are over it, over false oracles of the internet, we want humanity. But that drifts into another of my planned posts.
Essay on the occasion of the Anita DeSoto exhibition, Potion at Eastern Southland Gallery, Gore, Aotearoa-New Zealand, 30 March – 12 May 2024
“The work of artists who insist that this earthly realm is not all there is embodies the idea of possibility – surely, an offshoot of joy.” – Jennifer Higgie from The Other Side, A Journey into Women, Art and the Spiritual World
In both history and narrative, women, and their knowledge have been murdered, silenced, forgotten, their stories minimised, even romanticised. Anita’s Potion seeks to aid in redressing this injustice and draw attention to patriarchal threats that still loom, that frighteningly in some spheres are presently gaining force.
Fiction and non-fiction books by Clementine Ford, Carmen Machado, Rachel Cusk, Debra Levy, Nadine Burke Harris, Katy Hessel, Jennifer Higgie. Auto-art & trauma.
“I speak into the silence. I toss the stone of my story into a vast crevice; measure the emptiness by its small sound.” ― Carmen Maria Machado, In the Dream House
It is often interesting to hear what people are reading, giving an insight into books that we ourselves, may like. That which calls our attention, and then our reflections upon, can only come from the individual lens from which we look out. For each of us this is intimately personal. Mostly I read to interrogate my own depths, looking to the vision of others to shine light into hidden, unknown or unexpected corners. Thus, the pleasure in reading.
A Flash fiction with warmth and reality, on mixed-up families, growing up, gender identity – and Santa Claus:)
“There’s no limit to how much you’ll know, depending how far beyond zebra you go.” Dr. Seuss
Dear Santa,
The new TV you brought us last year is great. Dad and David love watching sports on it, and me and Mum, like the nature channel. Dad said to write you with my Christmas wish. I mean what I want for this Christmas, even though it’s only August. He told me to stop going on about wanting Holiday Barbie, but I only have My First Barbie that Aunty Kath gave me. She took me to the movie too. All the Barbies were so cool! Mum growled at her when we got home, but Aunty Kath just winked at me and told Mum to get over it.
New Lands. exhibition 20 October – 17 November 2023
Yay for ARIs! What? Artist Run Initiatives. Oh, cool 🙂
Haere mai ‘New Lands.’ gallery and project spaceGrown out of ‘The Heat’ in Tāmaki Makaurau, now in the historic Carnegie Center in Ōtepoti, and extra special as a registered Safe Space, being safe spaces for LGBTQI+ communities worldwide.
We’ve survived and are living life. This is how I face the world, some days Stretched Thin, some days Jaded. I write ‘living life’ because Brighton draws with paint, stick figures into being. This is not casual mark making, there is manipulated intention. Each figure is animatedly on the move, we have to catch their voice before they move off frame. They’re us, they’re our friends. I want to take them home.
On the floor space and leaning on walls are sculptures of found materials, given a new life with shape, form and connection – including the space they occupy. We are unable to resist taking time to question these sculptures, to make our own narratives around them from serious to whimsical.
Materialism laid bare but as people we are FIGHTINGFIT.
This is a touching story of a matriarchal figure, who views the world around her with wise and perceptive eyes. She offers insights into the natural world, her family relationships, and the trials and triumphs she endures. The tale is a respectful ode to loss, leadership, and living with the rhythms of nature. 944 passes away at the age of 22, surrounded by her loved ones, leaving behind a legacy symbolized by her number.
this is a true story, at least to the best of my memory...July, 2023
For people who love animals and believe in their sentience, a short story, based on reality, of innocence and wisdom as one. Set on a small farm in Aotearoa-New Zealand.
The view from up here looks across the green valley and out to the sea. From lower down not much can be seen, as there are trees all around. I watched them grow year after year, and enjoy the shelter they give from the wind. No matter from what direction the wind blows, there’s always a warm spot, and place to bed down when it rains at night. Sometimes the wind roars across the top of the trees and barely touches the ground. From north, to east, to west, to south, the wind brings different sounds and different smells. I know them all…
Bice Grace Lapin 