Saturday, 26 November 2011

Final Post

Please see THIS POST over on Handbin that concludes Teasing Tastes with what was a successful presentation and exhibition, involving alot of discussion and drinking of wine over at the Cardiff school of Architecture.

You can also see one of the students' quite excellent completed books HERE as an online PDF.

Monday, 17 May 2010


Nearly There

Started looking at lighting, need to work on the light in the apple world. I have removed one of the soldiers because it was getting a little crowdy, however I will work on the crime scene in the burnt corner, (grave of a soldier, outline of a body) so there remains the traces of a third character in the foreground. A new, smaller wagon should make things less crowded as well. The landscape at the back will be an explosion in the distance, whilst the front left lighting should be more subtle. The narrative will now be based around an ambush on the soldiers, the apple has been waiting for them all along.

zoe text

My alarm clock rings
And I open my eyes
But I am not awake
Not completely.

I drift into the bathroom
Twist the taps of the shower
Wait for the steam
To mist up the mirror.

The sound of the water
Hitting the tiles
My mind wanders
I think about the ocean.

I dry myself
And walk back to my room
Before I can get dressed
I need to choose clothes.

They are cadged in my wardrobe
Fighting for attention
I decide what to pick
And liberate jeanes and a white shirt.

I drift into the kitchen
Boil the kettle
Hot water in mug
Tea bag, milk, sugar, stir.

My first sip of tea
I have been impatient
I burn my tongue
And don’t drink the rest.

Adding milk to cornflakes
In my head it’s a game
The milk to cornflake ratio
Piecing them together.

My cornflakes are finished in 3 minutes
At the bottom of the bowl
Is a small pool of milk
Which I pour away.

I wander back to the bathroom
The smell of shampoo
Has lingered after my shower
Mint an cucumber.

I squeeze the toothpaste
I squeeze too hard
The blue and white stripes
Miss the toothbrush.

While brushing my teeth
I turn on the taps
To help guide the toothpaste
Down the plughole.

Put down the toothbrush
Pick up the hairbrush
I loosen knots with my fingers
Before i start brushing

My hair is a jungle of tangles
The brush gets stuck more than once
More than once

I’m finally ready
To start the day
But still not awake
Not completely.

Sunday, 16 May 2010

The Burnt Box




Narrative will not upload-will email it


Currently working on:

1) Adding more planes and varying the size of the grid to create more distinction between close objects and distant objects.
2) The characters.
3) Pattern on the 'ceiling'.
4) Covering the MDF on the outside of the box.

Initial sketches. I'm testing them out in the box as I go along.

A regular grid above the Joker's chamber, but the other side will tell a different story.

One of the prototype characters in action. And there's a hole in the floor!... Or is there?

The cave. I will play a bit more with the weave to allow the light from behind to pierce through in more places.

Progress with more triangles and lighting

Still working on it. But just anupdate with some lighting and a change in the scale of the person in the Plain world below.
I am a little unsure to what I should add in the colourful world above, I shall also post an update on my narrative soon. Thank you for the comments and there are still more triangles to come.

Saturday, 15 May 2010


Ate the meat and in its place discovered this in-progress information kiosk.


Chapter 8 Verse 1 - 4

On the 8th Day He tidied up.
Everything had its character and its place. There was an
order to things, danger was created but dressed in danger,
joy was created and wore gentle friendliness.
From time to time He came unpon His mistakes. Clustered
anomalies defied His order. Puppies tore the throat out,
Sunsets blinded the eyes. Everywhere dropped honey pot
stiches drew them, in untill it was too late.
In His wisdom He tidied the traps. Locking them for all
time in a crypt none could open. Order was arranged,
catalogued and kept.

Now He is dead. They have killed Him.
Alone they became curious. they began to
explore, stretching out into the unknown
they devised mechanisms and bridges. Tools
to see more than their eyes, tunnels to
dig deeper. They cut into the crypt. They
found a way in.
Time passed as they carreered through the
chambers unware of the danger. Their
activities burnt sensitive white scars
through His worst work. Soon the wonder of
the crypt became all they cared for
studying, preserving and worshiping they
continued to dig.
Each new chamber silenced the imagination
and the pace increased.


For the real deal its all gotta get more matter of fact, an audio guide round the unearthed crypt starting in the top right where the white miners first break into the Roc's chamber. Not everything is understood by the archaeologists but what is, is explained with the clarity of David Attenborough - it seems safe enough.


Presentation Plan and Narrative - Sidha Mogha

Presentation Plan

The presentation will be in first person, so it would be narrated in a specific point of time which will be when I am cooking.

I will have the box against the wall with the light turned on throughout the presentation as I would like to highlight the two different worlds from the beginning.

While I read the narrative I will point to the box as to what is happening in the sequence .


One afternoon when I had woken up late, I went to the kitchen to make lunch, it was clean and spotless. I started to layout the all the ingredients which I needed for the vegetable stir fry I was going to make. The fresh green broccolis, riped red tomatoes, orange bell peppers, long green spring onions and fresh baby corn, spicy green chillis, crisp onions with its layers inside, and a few cloves of garlic broken off from the bunch, soya sauce, mushroom sauce and cornflour mixed with water to make it into a gravy like consistency and lastly I took the rice from the box and poured it out from the box, the dusty yet delicious smell escaped it. As I started to peel the onions and garlic the distinct and strong smell rose and hit me. As I carried on with preparing the ingredients the sweet but slightly spicy smell and the juice of the orange bell peppers flicked at me. Then I started to cut the broccoli into triangular pieces as well as the onions which I diced into small cubes, a similar size and shape to the broccoli and peppers.

Once I had prepared the red tomatoes, green broccoli, orange bell peppers, yellow baby corn, spring onions, onions and garlic. I went and turned the gas on and placed the pan onto it, poured a few teaspoons of oil and let it heat, once it was warm I added the onions, at which instant I could see the smell of the onions rise, as I added the garlic and all the other vegetables along with the mushroom sauce, soya sauce a blend of these smells fused and rose together blending into a world of its own, a world which I would dream to be on, a world which was very different and colourful to the plain world below where I had once stood and created this amazing world on which I now lived.

The smells have created this world for me in which everything seems bright, happy and cheerful, a place created by quality and a unique blend. Through time the smell slowly fragmented away but the world created stayed forever.

Sidha Mogha

Presentation Plan & Narrative

Presentation Plan;

The story will be narrated in third person, detailing the events from the Joker’s POV, as if the Joker has just woken up and is surveying the progress each of the players has made in the game. I will use lighting to direct the jury around the narrative. The box will start off completely in the dark, and as the narration goes through each of the 5 scenes, strong lighting will illuminate the areas of the box that relate. When each of the scenes have been recounted, a desk light will be used to illuminate the box and all 5 spot lights will be turned on. The scenes will be presented in the order shown below.

I will need someone to stand behind my box to operate the lighting.

A rough narrative is outlined below, they correspond to the diagrams above.


The silent stillness reining over the games cupboard is broken. The Joker awakens and steps from his bed. His royal chamber is opulently adorned in red, white and black, surrounded by reminders of his rules and faces of the defeated. He knows that today will be a good day. As always, he knows that he will always win. From the comfort of this sacred space, the Joker casts a lazy eye upon the players within his game, and nods in satisfaction at the handy work of his most faithful minion. The checkerboard is like an extension of himself, he muses silently, just as evil, just as cunning.

His attention is first drawn to the Five of Hearts. Ah, another victim his own ambitions. In his haste to reach the prize, the Five of Hearts failed to see the secret hatch hidden amongst the checkerboard and thus has fallen into the dark depths below, condemned to start the game from the beginning, or join his brothers in defeat.

A rather more successful Three of Spades is fast approaching the final hurdle. The Joker suffers a moment of anger before remembering that he has an ally in this game. He calls upon his faithful minion and watches with approval as squares twist and rise, engulfing and trapping its latest victim in the confusion of the mirrored room below. The Joker’s shadow is replicated a million times. He is everywhere at once. The Three of Spades cannot find a way out, everything is an illusion.

The Joker would dwell longer on this amusing scene, for he greatly enjoys watching the struggle of the helpless, but a far more intriguing scene is unfolding nearby. The Two of Diamonds is drawn to the light, they always are. It is a mistake that the Joker has seen made many times, but they ever learn, or are optimistic beyond belief. They do not know what lies beyond the light, even the Joker himself does not know. Most have been known to vanish into the brightness and never reemerge.

The only other player left is the Eight of Spades and he is disorientated by the checkerboard. The pattern consumes everything, floor, ceiling and walls until no difference can be perceived between them. Gravity does not seem to adhere to the law of physics. But the Eight of Spades cannot think upon this fact for too long, as the Joker reveals a ray of hope, glimmering in the distance. The Joker laughs as the Eight of Spades struggles to reach this illusion, a false image of the end of the game projected in a never ending black hole. The effort of the struggle is taking its toll and the Joker gleefully observes that all this hardship and suffering will be for nothing.

Not many players are left now, the rest have been worn down and defeated. The Joker likes this game, for he knows that they can never win. Everything is going exactly to plan.

Friday, 14 May 2010

South Wales Heritage

These glowing white miners have started popping up everywhere in the box. I'm not sure I can control them for much longer.

Thursday, 13 May 2010

Trip the light fantastic

The Photo of the whole box was taken in pitch darkness with only the box's lighting having fun. But it took 3 seconds of exposure to achieve that richness. This lighting thing is tricky.






Story - Andra Antone


Summer Night Dream of a Lunatic / Sleeping disorders


There is a belief in Romanian mythology that relates sleep with the idea of madness. It is said that if you fall asleep under a walnut, the spirits come dancing around the walnut calling your name and stealing your mind, an arm, or a leg. The walnut will feed onto your soul, sucking the life out of you. In reality, the walnut is a very common tree seen everywhere within the hill side. People tend to spend an awful lot of time resting under their shade, due to the refreshing smell. However, because of the summer heath, the walnut leafs emanate too much Iodine into the air, which in turn, inhaled for a long period may cause damage to the brain, that can lead to local paralysis. It is also said that a walnut casts true shade only after 50 years. This also relates to the fact that the shade is felt as being heavier as the essence increases due to aging of the plant.


Lack of sleep leads to fear and anger. The mind eats away, you feel like a moving meat, too sharp, too blank and definitely too heavy. Accidents happen. . There is a certain roughness to the feel, violence in perceiving situations. You accumulate a lot of hater, towards nothing in particular. Sleep is healing. The bosom of the night softens the sting. The mind spills within the light depths of the warm sky. During the process of sleep, the brain recovers, layering everything within the back of the mind. Sometimes dreams are a type of physical self-knowledge. They play an important role in a person’s ability to learn and understand mental or emotional processes.

A deep sleep works towards gaining knowledge, where the interruption of the stream of memory makes it possible for people to come to better ideas of their own selves. Sleeping too long and very deep is a natural trigger for the body when dealing with pressure situations. The mind avoids dealing with mental process in the lucid state of mind choosing to think at a deeper level of consciousness. It also induces a feeling of confusion when awake, as the mind is too lost into its healing process, too sleepy to actually mend towards reality. Some senses fall into confusion, while other sharpen, taking control.


The box presents the story motion of a lunatic, hallucinating in his sleep in a hot summer night. The main space depicts the sick mind, dreaming of the impossible.


During the night, the unwanted sprawls. Life is under the control of impulse, which is much closer to our natural behavior than any rational approach. The night gives more opportunity; the world becomes awake, super-real.

Day time is no place for the weak; however, the night has a different timing, indulging imperfections, even mistakes. The mad lunatic peals off the wall, becoming normal in his mad world. To himself, the mad is the normality. He is now what he wants to be, without much constrains to worry about.

Within the scenery, there is no sense of gravity. There is an absurd feeling of creatures running around, of things relating, but not making sense Reality is dreaming, just below the skin. The matchsticks have a fight over the dinner, when they realize one of them transformed into a weird creature. What is that? Why is it there, is it still the matchstick before, or is it something else? Panic rises in this little domestic paradise. Accidents start happening. Some try to escape, others fall … why do some matchsticks handle gravitation better than the others? It seems like some of them do not fit within the gravitational system, while others just decide to turn in black little creatures….There is definitely something wrong within this world



There is a moment of bliss within those few seconds of uncertainty, when you are not completely sure of what’s going on. Each individual has a “gravitation” to his imagination. If analyzed, the same theme repeats over time, becoming gradually more complex as new motifs are added. The main generator is the way in which the brain perceives the interaction with the outside world. There is a cretin oddness, specific to each individual’s imagination. When there is nothing to relate to, absurd connections strike within a very short, but intense period until a reference point to reality is found. One moment of uncertainty generates a few moments of confusion, where anything works with anything.


The top part of the scene relates to the story I was playing in my last blog with the five objects and the little story about the process of ending up in a situation you do not necessary ask for, with the matchsticks becoming something different, playing multiple personalities and so on. I am not expecting such a decryption of someone who never knew what I was doing. I am more interested in providing a scenario that will intrigue the imagination, more of a smile at this absurd, yet beautiful non-sense. I had some friends saying they see some sort of apocalypse where time is the main destructive force, with everything going wrong. Another person saw some kind of alien invasion, with the black little creatures taking over the matchstick world. At an earlier stage, before setting up the story of the matchsticks and the wooden blobs, someone told me it seemed a bit more clearer, more lighter, that the sense of someone being “lost in space” came across better. But then again, that was just process work, I am not sure what the final output will look like.