Category Archives: humor

african dream

african dream by THE GRAFFITI HUNTER
african dream, a photo by THE GRAFFITI HUNTER on Flickr.

been feelin’ rough from the had enoughs until I found some abandoned chefs’ tiles that definitely needed some colour….
really gettin’ into the smaller picture fitting in with the overall theme like the birds in the top left. readin’ up and enjoyin’ de kooning again, funny thing is so many times I’ve wanted to round it (my art) all up and burn in a big pile.
I’ll hold off right now coz its raining pretty hard. love and peace…

Via Flickr:
by bird 2013
ink, paint, ceramic tile, framed


under the bridge

It’s my nephew’s birthday today. He’s very artistic. Come to think of it, we all are. 

From a distance, I’ve watched my family grow. I moved to the US before Luke and Lucy were born.

If I remember correctly, my sister was carrying Luke on their first trip to Orlando, Florida.

It was a Disney from the womb tour and it was also the first of many many transatlantic journeys over the next few years. I went home to London. The family came to see me over here. We had a lot of fun. Always.

I don’t go back to the UK so much anymore, for no particular reason. Perhaps just the cost?

My work lately has gravitated me towards the decorative arts and as I squeezed glitter glue out of a tube this morning, I couldn’t help but remember watching my Mum ice birthday cakes. Or for  christmas. She could turn a dollop of freshly mixed ‘icing’ – you know, the real stuff, like wedding cakes used to have - in to the most novel and imaginary places perched on top.

In fact, it was much more than a cake. Everything she touched, became more beautiful. More alive. More bright. In the garden. Sew and thread. A soft lacy christening blanket to knit.

I never viewed or saw my mother ‘as an artist’. Whatever that’s supposed to mean or should I say ‘well, what’s one’s supposed to look like?’

But she most certainly was!

And a natural at it.

My Mum, Barbara Ann Bird. 

She was also an amazing grandmother to my niece, Lucy and nephew, Luke.

My sister’s family. The Swanns.

Lesley Bird, my older sister by three years, married a Swann.

And a couple of years ago, they flew to San Francisco to visit Auntie Helen.

At the time I was knee-deep in art and photography, ramblin’ all over The City lookin’ for street art and graffiti.

Experimenting with all kinds of stuff. Stencils. Big canvas and spray paint.

Anyway, one of my most favourite places to go was up under the Golden Gate Bridge.

City side.

I knew a path off Crissy Field that led you straight up there. There’s a pretty steep shimmy up a gutter and then you’re there.

‘Oh My God, Helen. where are you takin’ us?’ ‘hey, hang in  there – you’ll see. the kids will love it!’

‘I don’t know, this is kinda scary.’ ‘oh, you can do it.’

We all clambered up and looked around at the totally rad sight in front of our eyes. Wall to wall graff on abandoned World War II bunkers. A crazy cool clear look under the bridge. And turnin’ back, an incredible view of The City by The Bay.

Glistening in the afternoon sun. Bathed in color. Lots of color.

Luke turned round and said to Lucy ‘Auntie Helen’s wayyyy cool’. Nah, kids.

You’re the cool ones. Love you both. God bless. 

Happy Birthday Luke

Happy Birthday Luke


‘I’d go a round if I was you…’

the bumper to bumper traffic on Dickerson Pike is, at the best of times really rather bad.

it’s a long hot dusty road.

well traversed by the lost…

the lonely…the lookin’.

there is no sidewalk.

walk the tight rope.

only a treacherous semi dirt crumbled tarmac with an ankle bustin’ precipice.

its loud.

we’re almost up the hill.

our home on our backs splutters and dies.

what once would have freaked us out merely causes us to smile.

at each other.

now we prepare.

a caravan meant not for many a days journey.

 a 420 big block with a twelve gallon tank.

“are you sure we are out?”

but block she does.

a full lane.

Port side.

cars pass by. furiously.

drivers rev engines, irritate and raw from the trouble we’re in.

not us.

their’s the inconvenience.

horn’s honk. few people smile.

one gallon proves too small. and flatter land is sought.

 stoppin’ barely of gleamin’ used car lots

and bright yellow chain fence, short.

a red faced salesman stands hands on hip and disapproves.

more fuel is needed. fetched from a down the road.

five o’clock to wish they were home.

yell and groan. honk and squeal.

the light goes green to red. yet cars stand still.

now this should work. more fuel in the beast.

turn the engine quick.

lets get out of this fix.

oh no, one thing more….

the ignition goes click

hard times on dickerson pike

hard times on dickerson pike

….reflections on a retro life on the roads of Nashville, in an antique motorhome with vernon rust folk-rockslinger


technicolor yawn

technicolor yawn by THE GRAFFITI HUNTER
technicolor yawn, a photo by THE GRAFFITI HUNTER on Flickr.

Emetophobia plagued me growing up. Then I became a nurse to overcome this irrational fear. Talk about facing s*** head on.
Then I got myself in to street art, namely graffiti where all references to doing so are vomit, barfing & throwing up related.
It’s kinda sick, really.


New Orleans Dreamin’

ok…so tryin’ to sell art on the streets of Nashville is like tryin’ to sell Jewish trinkets at a Baptist convention. Just kiddin’…whatever happened to a sense of humor folks? oh well…its been a long time since I’ve felt this wonderfully hopeful, optimistic and full of beans! Years, even. so I’m just not gonna let the malcontents bring me down but its definitely time for a change and I mean a big one. A Big Easy One like…Oh and if you get a chance please pop over to http://patron21.com/users/helenbird and support original artists…there’s a few of us tryin’ real hard to make a livin’ creating a more beautiful & colourful world. thanks


red letter day

red letter day

or ‘highlighted ways’
by BirdXRust 1/2013
the sense that every day’s your birthday surfaced the other day as territorial positions around the camp fire have become etched in kibble. settled over many unseen musical chairs. if the birthday girl always wins, why not make everyday your birthday?…to a poppy dawg for sure. may your calendars fill up with many…


its a dogs life

I have three words for you regarding pet owners, dogs in particular: ‘Best in Show’. And believe me, I mean that most affectionately. I seriously doubt there are many people out there that wouldn’t enjoy, that is get a downright hilarious kick out of the movie. whether you’re a dog lover or not. Growing up we always had a family dog, just the one. It was the ‘kids want a dog but we know we’ll wind up having to tend to them’ scenario with my parents. Of course, that’s more often than not the case, especially with school age and teen children. The last thing you want to do when you come home from school is walk the dog, vacuum up their shedding fur and fix a bowl of food…unless, like me you start sneakily smoking cigarettes when you’re 15 years old and then its a great opportunity to legitimately leave the house and take the dog out. Time to smoke a quickie and rush back to do homework. Was that wrong?

I vaguely remember our first dog, a corgi called Kim. He was pretty elderly and my Nana took care of him for the most part. As an old dog he found youngsters a bit of a pain and would nip at us periodically, just so we would leave him alone and that he could have some semblance of a quiet life.

A dog’s life…

He was always in the kitchen first thing in the morning when we were off to school. He was there waiting for us when we got off the bus and came home in the evening. And he settled down in the same spot every night at bedtime. Faithful. A constant companion. For my Nana he was someone to talk to when no one else was around, the house very still and quiet, even lonely during the day, with us at school and my parents at work. So then there comes the day when He’s not there anymore. He’s gone when we come home from school. No more happy face, anxiously waiting for us in the window. He had been taken to the vet and Dad left without Him. It’s every kid’s worse nightmare. For sure.

It wasn’t very long before we got another corgi from a very sweet family and kennel owners in Wales. They had taken in my mother during the Blitz when she was evacuated from London. My Mum, being the awesome correspondent stayed devoutly in touch with her temporary family and over the years we returned to Pembrokeshire, South West Wales for our family vacations.

The Pembrokeshire corgi is the preferred breed of Queen Elizabeth II and I believe she has about 16 corgis in her household. But that’s not why we made our second family dog one. Pembroke Welsh Corgis are very affectionate, love to be involved in the family, and tend to follow wherever their owners go. They are eager to please  and since they only bark when necessary, they make for a very good watchdog.

our new family dogOn the left my sister Lesley, Brandy and I at our home in Newbury, Berkshire 1972

Awesome and necessary qualities for any dog.

For many years I was without a pet. I travelled a lot, worked long hours and felt it just wouldn’t be fair on the poor pookie.

So when all of a sudden I exclaimed to Vernon that I wanted (and had already spied an ad on craigslist) a small dog, there really was no discussion. He felt exactly the same. It was the first ad I saw, for a 4-year-old abandoned Maltipoo. Maltese dogs are the favoured breed of royalty and have been for centuries. Cuddly beyond belief, they are the quintessential lap dog. They have hair, not fur and never or molt. Beautiful! Poodles are the smartest of breeds and also have non shedding coats. They are fun, active dogs that are an absolute hoot to hang out with.

This hybrid breed was perfect for our gypsy artistic lifestyle! We met the lady from the animal rescue she handed the new member to our family straight to me, into my arms and up to my chest. We bonded immediately and over the past couple of months she has become an integral part of our life & family. I never thought I would hear either of us say things like ‘smootchie, woutchie…how about a little supper’. Cooing and ahhhhhing over her as if she’s a new-born baby.

But then there you go. She has become a daily tonic for me with a new name everyday…sugar pie, honeycakes, sweetie love. But mostly she answers to Poppy.

We see her as a huge spirit and that she probably rescued us…

Our Sweet Poppy Dog


vernonrustreality

Here it is…finally.
All beautifully edited, organized and ready for your viewing pleasure.
Vernon & I have been recording these mini videos for over a year now…they are funny, No! they are downright hilarious.
They were, still are our way of dealing with the hard times. They bring a lot of smiles to a lot of faces too.
We knew that once we were able to invest in a laptop, I could go to town putting them together. In the form of short films each documenting our lives together while facing the challenges of houselessness, severe economic downturn yet falling completely, madly and utterly in love with one another. We are inseparable. A creative force bouncing ideas back and forth between us all day long. Each wanting the other to be the best person they could possibly be.
Vernon showing out gloriously for me. Me, behind my omnipresent camera, ardently filming his every joke, his daily human encounters…his celebration of life by uniting people with humor. His uncanny knack of diffusing any situation with much laughter. Much laughter. His ability to tell a story, sing a song…to pull you, the listener completely in. Just as though you are right there.
I wanted to show the world this amazing talent, this man of sharp and clever wit…this awesome performer who brings such joy to all he meets, everyday.
I wanted to make Vernon Rust the movie star he deserved to be….


buyer beware

I’ve always detested the expression ‘buyer beware’
coz it usually means some poor bastard has signed a contract while simultaneously dropping their drawers and bending over…

plot:

high energy couple walks in to a cellular store in music city, Nashville USA
they tell the personable salesman that they are artists, movie makers & composers
they need a service, MOBILE (to mean they spend a good deal of time on the road…)
that supports their work, their lifestyle…

for once in their lives…money is no object

not a problem Sir…
maximum unlimited everything

- Great.
the couple are so excited…

even the deposit and initial gouging barely unnerve’s our heroes

second billing cycle…

to settle account: $1400…

now money flips from being of no object to a very important one

why? why? why?

frantic call to customer service.

quick…where’s the 35 page, tiny densely printed contract.

data usage = 74Gb

‘customer service’ sounding like dad…

have you two been watching movies?

Err…YES, of course

its kinda what we do

well…we dont recommend that.

but, it says in the small print
on page 26

DATA SERVICES: PERMITTED USES

item #IV:
may use for UPLOADING downloading,

AND (GETTA LOAD OF THIS)

STREAMING of audio, video, games…

excuse me ???

nah, we always warn customers don’t watch movies…NEVER

folks, JUST DON”T DO IT

one flick will use 12Gb

WHAT!!!!

but the lady at american cellular said

you’ll never scratch the 10G allowance each month

warning, you are super dangerously close to the maximum data usage allowed…

we queried our dutiful sales person

she even fixed our phone so the text messages would stop

final scene:

in a flash the couple decides happily,

no, ecstatically

that really one monthly bill is quite frankly one too many anyway

please connect us to financial services

yes, yes, yes…of course we will pay your ‘$289 bill’ on friday

and in december we will pay the remainder in two

payments of $560 each
thanks dude, you’ve been awesome today
that sounds great…

thank you once again

VERIZON

couple kicks back, turns on netflix movies

and lets ‘em stream for four days until there’s no signal available

midnight friday

fade out….


with gladiatorial glee

I had a bird’s-eye of the ;black friday frenzy; from an incredibly discreet and unique vantage point. I was cocooned safely from the madness. an island of sanity amid an ocean of shoppers.
Wal-Mart is and has been on many occasions our home for a night or two over the past year. they welcome travellers and truckers alike. responsible people. folks that pick up other people’s’ trash. eyeball the vicinity as a neighbor hood watch scout. you get kinda protective about your neighbor too. hope they’re warm ’cause there’s an extra blanket just in case. make more healthy wraps, they might be hungry…
we tried to feed a few people yesterday. there’s no mistakin’ the look. the look of embarassment…it was funny, we selected good-for-ya life-sustaining grub but by the time we rounded the corner they had gone. I believe someone helped them as one in three nearly always does. There’s a heck of a lot of good ‘out there’ and I call it that affectionately. To some of us it’s a very scary world and I applaud the ease at which you enjoy the fracas…the circus…the crazy colorful wheel of life.
well…back to my story. I sat quietly drawing when a raucous of voices, car doors and screeching brakes pulled me back to reality and the current surroundings. ‘what on earth???’ Vernon called sleepily from the all wooden sleep cabin ‘it’s black friday…’ ‘at 10 o’clock?’ no response except softly sawed logs…
I could not believe the insanity! cars lined up as far as the eye could see. big happy faces clutching coupons, ads and flyers. near accidents punctuating the night as spaces were fought over. I had never seen or experienced an energy like it…Romans racing for the best seats at the Coliseum.
a frantically excited couple showed us that they ‘had got two big flat screen tv’s’ and ‘they were all $700 a piece for $300 each, y’all’…they had lined up for five hours to score such a deal.
Wow, I thought ‘who said they were worth $700 in the first place?


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