Sparkapolooza

2012-02-02T09:08:00.005+11:00

Hipster bunnies- breeding like mad.

By Joanne Chan

2012-01-30T17:03:00.000+11:00

By Justin Bellchambers

Brief 44: Create a Visual of a Rabbit

2012-01-23T22:07:00.001+11:00

Brief 44: Create a Visual of a Rabbit

Deadline: Tuesday 7th February 2012

Image created by: Emily Martin

Our next brief is a little more fun and directional. Are you a writer? photographer? musician? someone who doesn't do visuals? Then this is definitely a brief for you- remember it's not about being perfect and amazing we just want YOUR take on the brief.

Be sure to leave a comment on your favourite Beyond the Square submissions too. We're hoping to put on another art exhibition following the awesomeness of Sparkmylane last year so we're looking for your feedback. What are you waiting for? Hop to it! (sorry I couldn't resist...)

2012-01-23T21:38:00.000+11:00

By Greer Cornish

2012-01-22T10:48:00.000+11:00

By Joanne Chan

2012-01-22T10:32:00.001+11:00

For those of you who know me, you know that I don't bake because I suck at it. Especially for this brief I tried to go outside my comfort zone and challenged myself: to bake scones. I read the recipe wrong and I brushed some milk on the baking paper, all scones were all stuck to the paper... but apart from that I'm so happy that they turned out okay and they taste amazing!

By Laura

2012-01-22T10:06:00.000+11:00

Lines of Nature By Tracey Sargent

The corners of the market square were delineated by the presence of four different, yet equally important stores. A bakery, newsagent, fruit shop, and delicatessen.

They sat within the right angle of each corner, facing off against each other in a retail tug-of-war for customers. The cafe where I worked was located just two doors down from the bakery, a nice location from which to lure the passing shopper.

Here amongst the bricks, stairs, windows and doors - this is where life really happened. It provided the perfect setting for one of old Jack’s favourite pastimes - people watching. I could see him out there now, sitting under the shade of an awning with eyes half closed. While it often looked as if he was sleeping, he was really quite alert - soaking up all the hustle and bustle of the town. Like a lizard who holds itself perfectly still at the approach of a predator, those passing by paid old Jack no attention; he blended in so seamlessly. Perhaps it was because his clothes and the squashed brown hat which sat upon his head were as old-fashioned as the facade of the building he sat in front of. He had found the perfect camouflage.

Every Saturday he appeared there. I knew, because I worked at the cafe six days a week, and it was only on the Saturday that I’d see him. He’d stroll over to his spot just after lunch and pass the remaining hours until sunset, in comfortably reclined fashion. When he walked past the cafe in the evening, he’d always tip his hat to me like an old-fashioned cowboy. I’d stop sweeping the verandah for a moment and watch him leave. ‘Evening ma'am’, he’d say and I’d smile.

This had been the ritual for about six months, until one Saturday my curiousity got the better of me. I waited until I saw Jack appear, before I took my lunch break and wandered across the square.

‘Hi Jack’, I said.

‘Ma’am’, he said.

‘I was just wondering ... I see you here every Saturday, but where do you go every other afternoon?’

With a smile he adjusted his hat, like he’d been waiting for me to ask him that very question. ‘Out there’, he said pointing to the distant line of trees just visible over the peak of buildings, ‘beyond the square’.

‘So you come here to soak up some life before you head back to the quiet of nature?’

‘No ma’am. I come here to remember true beauty’, he said.

‘True beauty? You mean you’re a student of architecture? Or are you an old romantic with a special woman in mind?’

‘Nope. Neither could be truly said of me ... I come here to remember the world can be an ugly built-up place, filled with structure, tough rules, and hard edges. Out there amongst the trees, well that is where true beauty lies. There’s no such thing as a straight line in nature’.

‘Hmmm, and here I was thinking you enjoyed the city Jack ... Well, I’d better let you get back to it’, I said.

‘Much obliged ma’am’, he said as he let his hat fall back over his eyes and he relaxed back into his chair. Returning to work for the remainder of my shift, I kept thinking about what Jack had said. I’d spent most of my life in this town, and rarely ventured elsewhere.

Before too long the sun had pulled this particular day to a close, and Jack was walking by with his usual, ‘evening ma’am’. After I locked the cafe door behind me half-an-hour later, I suddenly knew just what I wanted ... actually no, what I needed to do. At the bottom of the cafe stairs instead of turning right towards home and my front door, I turned left and headed for the trees.

2012-01-22T09:59:00.001+11:00

By Charlotte

2012-01-22T09:59:00.000+11:00

By Dan Coman

Brief 43: Beyond the Square

2012-01-06T22:50:00.000+11:00

Brief 43: Beyond the Square

Deadline: Saturday 21st January 2012

Image via: Christian Flatscher

Welcome to Sparkapolooza 2012! To kick off our first brief we invite you to get out of your comfort zone and go beyond the square (literally but hopefully conceptual!). Our 2 week deadline returns and we now have an About page which we strongly encourage you to read. Need some extra reminding about looming deadlines and new briefs? Keep in touch via Facebook & Twitter. Happy creating!

Sparkapolooza on Hiatus

2011-08-19T23:17:00.001+10:00

Dear fellow creative kids,

Sorry it has been a little quiet here! Jo and I have been out and about in a little adventure that we haven't been able to keep up with briefs and submissions so we're taking a small break from Sparkapolooza. We'll be back soon and in the mean time, if you have any comments, feedback, suggestions or anything at all, please either leave us a comment or drop us a line at sparkapolooza [at] gmail [dot] com. See you all soon!

Much love,
Jo and Laura

2011-08-15T16:13:00.000+10:00

By Chiara

Brief 42: All You Can Eat

2011-07-30T14:27:00.000+10:00

Brief 41: All You Can Eat

Due date: Saturday 13th August 2010

Image via: Jeremy Brooks

2011-07-29T21:20:00.000+10:00

Party People by Kate Toon

I’m not a party person. I’d rather stay at home.
I never have much fun in a corner all alone.
I like the mini quiches, the dips and sausage rolls,
But the company is rubbish, and the girls are just fat moles.

I end up getting drunk and hiding in the loo.
Well, if you looked like me you’d probably do that too.
I’m not the sort of person that people like to meet.
Maybe it’s the beard or my strangely smelling feet.

I’m happy back at mine just watching Doctor Who.
There’s matchstick boats to make and ironing to do.
I make myself lasagna and settle down on the settee.
I’m happy to be quiet, happy just being me.

And really if you’re honest, you hate parties as well.
You go because you have to, but really know they’re hell.
You get pissed and do things that next day you’ll regret.
And have the kind of evening you’d much rather forget.

At least I can admit it: I think parties are poo.
Home is more relaxing, be honest, it’s so true.
So all you party people can take a running leap.
And I’ll just stay at home and catch up on my sleep.

2011-07-29T21:15:00.000+10:00

By Laura

2011-07-28T15:08:00.000+10:00

By Joanne Chan

Brief 41: Party People

2011-07-15T00:00:00.000+10:00

Brief 41: Party People

Due date: Friday 29th July

Image via: Jeff Lukker

2011-07-14T21:30:00.001+10:00

By Rhys Holland

2011-07-14T20:32:00.001+10:00

By Charlotte Poul

2011-07-13T23:15:00.002+10:00

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Drawing with words

By Laura

2011-07-13T13:22:00.001+10:00

Poetry in a teacup By Isadora Filković

2011-07-12T21:35:00.002+10:00

By Po Hilton

2011-07-12T09:31:00.001+10:00

By Po Hilton

2011-07-11T16:49:00.000+10:00

By Joanne Chan

2011-07-08T19:13:00.003+10:00

Special Tea by Kate Toon

I’ve always liked a tea; it’s my favourite by far.
And not those nasty tea bags, but tea leaves from a jar.
Tea smooths out all the creases and eases all the joints.
It’s better than that reiki, for soothing pressure points.

I’m not that keen on coffee, I’ve never liked the taste.
And three dollars for a latte, well that seems like such a waste.
Jack loved a nice hot cuppa, with a sugar stirred just right.
He’d sit and watch his program, supping tea most every night.

I was taking him a mug, when I found him that cold day.
I dropped it from the shock, and the biscuits, and the tray.
He was lying on his back with his feet in the rose bed.
Starring up at the big sky, and I knew that he was dead.

When the ambulance men came, I offered my special tea.
They were gentle with my Jack and very sweet to me.
The woman from the parlour said she wanted hers with skim.
Did I want the coffin open, so folk could stare at him?

I didn’t like her manner nor the tattoo on her knee.
I offered her a biscuit and watched her eat all three.
I had tea served at the wake; there were some that wanted wine.
I didn’t think that that was right, tea suited Jack just fine.

I often think about them ladies, picking tea in India.
And wonder if they think of me, with my feet up in Jack’s chair.
When I’m drinking a nice cuppa, stirring my biscuit round,
I remember my poor Jack, lying cold under the ground.

I hope that he’s in heaven, dunking biscuits just like me.
On a brown sea of satisfaction, an eternity of tea.