wigwambam: thank you ma'am

there's no point in pretending anymore: summer's over. i mean, seriously, autumn is basically over. it's time to get out heads down and prepare for the long, painful, torturous winter (well, i'll be spending three weeks of it in sydney, but still: you know what i mean).

so what is going to get us through the aforementioned long, painful, torturous winter? The ever-delightful queen of hoxton's wigwambam, that's what. a charming combination of school camp, girl guides and that wigwam that i stayed in when i was at that hostel in byron bay that time, poxymash spent most of the latter half of last year lurking in its dark corners (well, obviously no corners in a wigwam, but the sort of curved edgy bits, if you get my drift), lamenting the distinct lack of sun, but mollified by the presence of hot drinks, a fire pit and - of course - fairy lights. and guess what? i feel that this winter will be no different.

it opens to the public on friday 26th october (which is my friend mim's birthday, fyi) and runs allllllll the way to the end of march. so rug up and hightail it to the queen of hoxton to get your camp on (wait, that came out wrong...).

WigWamBam  

Friday 26th October 2012 - end of March 2013
5pm - 10pm (Tuesdays - Saturdays)
FREE

[gussy]

a word exchange with stealing sheep.

stealing sheep are a three piece liverpudlian outfit who boast a curious pagan-y, folky feel. their enchanting medieval drones, bells and harmonies, conjure up images of roald dahl’s three witches dancing around a cauldron, chanting and transfixing. while not exactly synonymous with demons in human form threatening to kill foul children, their slightly haunting, sinister sound may just do for harmonies what david lynch did for eye patches everywhere. we caught up with liv and said “please give us the low down on your life, before you make a frothy broth out of us?” she obliged…

listening to: eden ahbez (eden's isle)

reading: day of the triffids

watching: twin peaks

eating: beans on toast

loving: batman (our cat)

loathing:...it's all about the loving

inspired by: fantastic planet

bored of: not getting ideas made

fearful of:  sharks

dreaming of:  sharks

your personal mantra: happiness is the way to happiness

this much i know: at the end of the day it gets dark

[aine herlihy]

what's the big deal yo?

the mind boggles. the media continues to whip the world into frenzy over breasts; who saw whose breasts and where and how and why.  that each human being, man, woman and child is born with breasts, albeit more flatter, inverted variations, makes the mind boggle further. if the bosom was only particular to the rarest breed of species, i might better understand a photographers aggressive inquiry and their desire to steal a glance at this, the most elusive of all natures’ creations. but no. 

as i type, i’m sat opposite a well-known musician in a shoreditch coffee quarters. a pitcher of elderflower between us,  this weedy fellow, i observe, has breasts. skinny and flat chested as he is, i can see the soft tip of his nipples, gently pressing against his white wife beater vest. when he bends to feed his even hipper animal-creature-friend, chorizo, i catch a glimpse of his pink breasts. now is my chance i tell myself! if i just hover over him ever so discreetly, with my phone and simply click..!

i don’t though. because i don’t care. because, i have breasts and you have breasts and really, your breasts are altogether no different from mine mr. bass player with your second album selling sensationally on i-tunes. but mostly i’d get very little for your bosom, as the media haven’t successfully sexualised and objectified you beyond what is evolutionary possible.  yet.

when he lifts his head, he catches my gaze, staring blankly at his man chest as i mull over ethics, accessibility and the i-phone.

he closes his denim shirt a little. i turn pink. like a right tit. 

[hunter m. wilde]

the daily poxy soundsystem: a dark horse - these butterflies are here.

who: a dark horse

sounds like: paragliding over your past and recognising all the beauty, magic and mystery that escaped you, while you waited impatiently for 'real life' to happen. 

why we love them: with just the help of a few trusted friends, they record and produce their own music, music videos and design their own art work. wait, that amount of talent is abhorrent in any individual...

most likely to say: something tantric in thought. slow and subtle, building, building and then boom. you have something infinitely profound in your inner ear to process. 

something to ponder: why are a beautiful species such as butterflies associated with abdominal anxiety? should it not be rather  "when you said that, you gave me moths in my stomach. big, furry moths, that tried to eat my aran cardigan, from the inside". 

[aine herlihy]

hey- donal dineen! our brains fell out. what are you doing, so we can do it too?

donal dineen is an irish radio presenter, film-maker and former television presenter. up until recently his late night radio show 'small hours' showcased an eclectic mix of electronica and world music on today fm. while his live dj sets have set him apart as a notorious facilitator of sweat therapy. like, oh my god, i'm dying and stuff like that. now we just need to get him back on our airways again - to get all franz mesner up on our asses and provide a soundtrack to our insomnia. we caught up with him after his gig at skibbereen arts festival and said "tell me tings?". not to be confused with "tell me things.". crazily enough, he did...

listening to: katie kim, sean mac erlaine, patrick kelleher, gang colours, how to dress well, four tet & burial, dauwd, dntel, phosphorescent and polonaise. 

reading: kevin barry

watching: old arena documentaries, the stuff youtube is great for. i saw a magnificent one of francis bacon recently. it was a great insight into his extraordinary world.

eating: loads as usual

loving: the kerry football team and kerry in general to be honest.

loathing:self

inspired by:the heroes on the ground.

bored of: hearing bad News with a capital N.

fearful of: everything turning out the same. 

dreaming of: going back. 

your personal mantra: no mantra no cry. 

[aine herlihy] 

war journalism, and why it matters.

                                                             [jessica dowling reporting from the balkans] 

yesterday’s death of sunday times journalist marie colvin highlights the incredible danger journalists and photographers place themselves in to achieve a story. but it also shows the dedication of these people to show the truth to the world.

marie colvin was an experienced journalist who had reported from several war torn countries, including the former yugoslavia, sri lanka, east timor, and from various locations in the middle east. her work was admired by both her contemporaries and the public, and along with other awards she was named foreign correspondent of the year on two separate occasions by the british press awards. her death in the city of homs in syria ended a life that was spent chasing the truth and bringing it to the masses, despite the threats she invariably faced in these situations.

the dangers facing journalists like marie colvin, and photographer rémi ochlik, who was also killed in the same attack at the age of 28, should not be taken lightly. the importance of war journalism is sometimes forgotten by people; some believe journalists who put themselves in these kinds of situations do so more for the adrenaline and fame factors rather than for the search of truth. but in reality, without these kinds of individuals the stories of so many innocent victims of regimes’ such as assad’s would not be brought to the attention of the west. in the past, reports from war zones showed people the truth about what was happening in places like bosnia and rwanda, spurring foreign governments into taking action and stirring public pressure.

if any good can come of these deaths, the increasing force the international community is putting on the syrian regime as a direct result of them may help alleviate the suffering of the syrian people. french president nicolas sarkozy has already said “this is enough now, this regime must go”, and other world leaders agree. british prime minister david cameron told the house of commons: "this is a desperately sad reminder of the risks that journalists take to inform the world of what is happening and the dreadful events in syria”.

the deaths of journalists in war zones are sadly not new, and remain a terrible reminder that these kinds of regimes have no care for human life. not only does assad have no respect for his own people, who he is picking off in slow mode genocide, but he also seemingly has no concern in angering the international community. people can only hope that these deaths will spur governments into action, to help the innocent people of syria.

[jessica dowling is currently interning in sarajevo for balkan investigative reporting network (BIRN), working as a court reporter for several genocide trials in the court of bosnia and herzegovina and also assisting on research and writings on balkan transitional justice] 

the daily poxy soundsystem: tiny victories - lost weekend.

who: tiny victories.

sounds like: an array of gadgets, samplers and live drums all jostling together like oddly attractive, irregular shaped molars in your mouth.

why we love them: some kids lose their keys over the weekend. they lose their flunking minds.

most likely to say: your mind’s not a prison - it’s a prism. like a pellin broca prism, with four sides, 'cause you can be so god damn square sometimes.

something to ponder: they don’t have ‘breakdowns’ in brooklyn, dummy, they have ‘serious shakedowns’ and everyone gets an invite.

[aine herlihy]

the daily poxy soundsystem: james vincent mcmorrow- if my heart should somehow stop.

who: james vincent mcmorrow

sounds like : longing and the endless distance travelled by a day dream.

why we love him: celtic druid meets french connection man and their combined beards produce a song.  i am beard. i am song.

most likely to say: what’s the premium on your facial hair insurance?

not out of place on: into the wild mix tape,  as alexander supertramp wanders the alaskan wilderness. oh how our hearts  still hurt.

something to ponder: separation anxiety is just one of my co-morbidity disorder’s. somebody get the charlson index out…

[aine herlihy]

the daily poxy soundsystem: bag raiders - shooting stars

who: bag raiders.

sounds like : as if someone has just thrown a slice of pineapple at your face from a passing fruit cart.

why we love them: one member of the group used to be an elephant trainer. true story. he might even train us.

not out of place on : a cadillac car stereo as you drive along the palm tree ridden coast, into the encroaching dusk.

most likely to say: no, we are not cut copy. next.

   
something to ponder: will they serve pina coladas when we get there?

[callum dickson]

what inspires the inspirational: ivan m. granger

ivan m. granger is a poet and the creator of one of our favourite poetry websites, poetry chaikhana. ivan joyfully shares the sacred poetry of cultures, religions, and spiritual traditions from around the world. in particular, poetry chaikhana has a middle eastern theme, honouring the vibrantly, devotional, irreverent, and truly profound sacred poetry the region has given to the world. but ivan also says there is another important reason for this middle eastern flavour: to counter the miserably limited portrayal of middle eastern cultures and religion we are given in the west. he says “although i am not a muslim or sufi, it is desperately important to remind the western world of the rich spirituality the middle east has given to us”.

so what’s the deal with the un-pronounceable name?  well, my fellow philistines,  “chaikhana is a teahouse along the legendary silk road pilgrimage and trading route linking china to the middle east and europe. it is a place of rest along the journey, to sip tea, and to gather together to sing songs of the divine”.

ivan lives in colorado with his wife michelle. the man’s a mystic - sign up to the chaikhana poetry mail out and you will concur i'm sure.  

listening to: liszt's ‘la campanella’, i keep returning to this piano solo piece. it manages to be delicate and a bit agitated, while also surprisingly serene. i've also been listening to radiohead's ‘creep’.

reading: the yoga tradition by georg fuerstein. and the novel musashi, by eiji yoshikawa. of course, i have a stack (literally) of poetry books all around my desk.

watching: cadfael - a medieval monk solving murders. now why does that feel so cosy?

eating: gluten-free pumpkin pie. well, i would be if there was any left...

loving:the sunny day with snow glistening on the ground. inspires moments of stillness.

loathing: am i loathing anything? i hope not. though i have to admit to a few things i’d like to see changed. do you think we can set the world to rights with a list of 25 items or less?

tired of: ...social institutions that have forgotten what it means to be a human in the world.

bored of: too much is purposeful. it can become a compulsion. i know i'm doing something right when i have moments of boredom in my day.

scared of: plenty. but facing those fears, isn't that what makes for a good adventure?

dreaming of: i used to dream i was fighting zombies. or flying above rooftops at twilight. lately i've been travelling through strange lands, labyrinthine buildings, following vaguely familiar pathways to unknown destinations. every time i think i know my dream landscape well, new, strange vistas open up.

visit the website at : http://www.poetry-chaikhana.com

[aine herlihy]

the daily poxy soundsystem: veronica falls- come on over

who: veronica falls

sounds like : a hypnotic invitation to make out, based on meteorological circumstances.

why we love them: they sing about finding love in graveyards and perennial bad feelings -our inner wednesday addams has found an outlet.

not out of place on : anything christina ricci related (prior to pan am).  

most likely to say: let's just watch roger corman movies all day and discuss the terrifing effects raven haired women named ligeia, have on us.

   
something to ponder: maybe i should get my hep shots before i wear a vial of someone elses blood?

[aine herlihy]

the daily poxy soundsystem: peter and kerry-crash and burn

who: peter and kerry

sounds like: a sunday morning migraine brought on by regrets rising up through your body.

why we love them: they wanted fluidity so drank excess fluids. we get it.

not out of place on: the soundtrack for eternal sunshine of the spotless mind.

most likely to say: how do i get home from here? i want my own bed and my own ibuprofen.

something to ponder: hubris is for pioneers. hangovers will teach you humility. 

[aine herlihy]

what inspires the inspirational: eva baker.

today sees the launch of a new and exciting community arts space at 44 marlborough avenue hackney, with  a day of performances, interactive sessions and general good vibes to be enjoyed by all. we caught up with the events spirited organiser, eva, (whose tireless efforts to promote the arts always keeps us hopeful) to find out what inspires the inspirational. 

listening to: explosions in the sky for atmospheric wintry bus rides, billie holiday to warm up a cold evening, and basement djs 'the heatwave' podcast for house party shake downs.

reading: john snow's autobiography - he's a bit of a hero and it's a great account of what it's like to be an investigative journalist, which is my dream.

watching: the power of nightmares, a 3 part documentary by adam curtis about the rise of the politics of fear in relation to neo liberalism and radical Islam. a truly illuminating watch. 

eating: borek, the spinach and cheese pastries that my amazing local corner shop sells. they're massively addictive!

loving: the amount of suggestions, insights and warmth i've got from the residents of the hosing estate where we've just set up a community centre. i feel really grateful for having a job which allows me to interact with some inspiring people in a meaningful way, and that doesn't involve sitting behind a computer.

loathing: the media's relentlessly negative portrayal of young people and their position in society. if you keep telling them they're the 'lost generation' they'll start to believe it... put some solutions out there instead of telling people how hopeless  they are.

tired of: the police popping up at every demo in vast numbers, no matter how peaceful, and using unnecessary force.

bored of: everyone  in the public eye talking about how shit everything is (politicians, journalists, media).

scared of: prejudiced, narrow minded, greedy people... especially the ones in parliament and heading up other powerful institutions.

dreaming of: far away places... continually.

to find out more about the event visit: http://www.facebook.com/events/192422744176372/

[aine herlihy]

tube tutorials - an underground enlightenment #1

the tube isn't just a breeding ground for germs and jerks alike. when it’s not rush hour on the central line, and you're not head-locked under a fat mans underarm, it can be an almost metaphysical investigation, like a john donne sonnet, y’know? despairing amid anomie and now an elitist educational system, we’ve decided each week, to transform otherwise bleak platforms full of weary, nameless strangers and ask, is there anything they can teach us?

it started on the cirlcle line, as all great shit analogies for everything should. we sat as we always do, playing foosball with our eyes, when suddenly i felt an elbow on my arm. his name was arlin, a new york jewish gent, and he wanted words. sporting a powerful, powder blue suit he claimed to be a professional bridge player and a best friend of omar sharif. OMAR SHARIF!? we couldn’t think of any one we’d like to meet more, aside from murphy brown, perhaps. as we journeyed west, arlin helped us compile a list of nine ( he hopped off before we could get to ten) yiddish words, you need to know, now.  it doesn’t matter, that after all that, we realised that omar sharif isn’t in fact jewish and never was.  however, we suppose that these additional words, a source of rich expressions, will benefit your syntax thus improving brain elasticity.  happy days.

1. bupkes:  a rather rude way of implying a strong sense of nothing, by which we mean, ‘horse droppings’. as in,  “after everything i have done for you, what do i get? bupkes”.  

2. chutzpah: in english, chutzpah often denotes courage or confidence, but among yiddish speakers, it’s not a compliment and implies arrogance. which is the same difference. as in “that willow smith kid, she got too much chutzpah for something that size”.

4.feh: representative of the sound of spitting and used to suggest disgust. where would you be going without it?

5.kibbitz: what a word! it means to gossip or give unwanted advice. kibbitzing, it’s what we do best.

6.maven: used to connote an expert, often used sarcastically. for example “quit acting the maven, you don’t know bupkes ‘bout nothin”. 

 7.oy vey:  an exclamation of dismay, grief, or exasperation. most likely to be used on a sunday morning, when you check your sent messages. 

8.shlep: just shleping around y’know? get slouchy, get shlepy.  

9.schlock: meaning cheap, shoddy, or inferior. the words your landlord didn’t use to describe your apartment. oy vey. 

[aine herlihy]

what's in the bag?: the cambridge satchel company fluoro satchel

well, it's officially half way through the week. and unofficially too, i suppose (i'm not one to stand on ceremony).

so, what's going on here is a new weekly feature we're trying out, in which we have a look at a few things that are getting us through the week. starting from the bag from whence all said objects would be retrieved, right down to the industrial strength, 48 hour deodorant that i would consider keeping in a holster strapped to my thigh, except that i don't need to (that's the whole point of long-wearing deodorant i think - it's a exercise in holster-minimisation).

is any of this stuff in your bag? or are you more of a holster girl? is cleanser actually the best invention in the world? will the fluoro yellow of the cambridge satchel cause actual and lasting damage to my retinas? or will tortoiseshell specs offer adequate protection? answers on a postcard please.

satchel: cambridge satchel company @ mybag.com
leather trousers: gareth pugh @ farfetch.com
chiffon blouse: lipsy @ cargoclothing.com
boots: miista.com
specs: dsquared2, 01635277299
leather gloves: gantuk.com
scarf: david longshaw at harrods.com
cleanser: eve lom @ beautyexpert.co.uk
deodorant: mitchum @ boots

the daily poxy soundsystem: yuck -get away.

who are they: yuck

sounds like: rocking out beneath a memory foam mattress. 

why we love them: as we listened to them, while reading about the double dip recession (ice-cream anyone?), we thought, yuck, not that again. the link is tenuous, yet we've decided that their ambivalent air might be just what we need to survive yet another finanical fiasco. yay, go team yuck!

most likely to say: it's actually a big responsibility being this cool, y'know?

not out of place: blaring in a rough trade store, while disillusioned 20 something’s  pour over vinyl, wondering is anybody watching them.

something to ponder: what are the chances they would change their name to ‘ew'? it’s just so much softer on the palette isn’t it? today’s homework: work on my ‘y’ words…

[aine herlihy]

the daily poxy soundsystem: metronomy - the bay

who: metronomy.

sounds like: reading a travel guide whilst on a late night flight, descending into the lights of tokyo.

why we love them: post-metronomy you will find us in a party mood, sporting a whimsical smile,  yearning for the salt ‘n vinegar of the seaside and stuck to wall with candyfloss, suffering a sugar induced spasm.

most likely to say: we all play synth!

not out of place: getting angular on the dance floor.

something to ponder: do they actually work for a tourist board?

[callum dickson]

look at this rad thing we found #5

in early autumn we began laminating leaves; our tragic attempt to preserve the unpreservable, sic transit gloria mundi and all that lark. but more superficially, we really just liked the hot firmness of it in our hands! but our love of all things leafy took a whole new twist when we stumbled upon christina sanders blog, where she shows you step by step, how to make roses out of leaves. amazing.

but more than rose leaves, we love boyfriends who go to the bother of making them for us. gaww, now ain't that sweet!

For a step by step instruction, visit christina's blog at http://asensesublime.blogspot.com/2011/10/sublime-makes-autumn-leaf-roses.html

[images: christina sanders]

[aine herlihy]

in pictures: poxymash goes to borough markets