ART RAGE

Wednesday 22 Nov 2017

 

 

Sweat drenched Larissa Macfarlane’s, Hannah and Raphael Kaleb clothes.

“Where’s the bathroom?”

“I’ve made friends with the local MP. We are welcome to use their kitchen and bathroom facilities any time.” answered Larissa.

We engaged with pedestrians as they complimented us on our work.  They wanted their friends and families to see what we were doing. “It’s good for our community” was their attitude.

 

I noticed a number of council workers wearing safety vests in the vicinity. They smiled as we laboured in 35 degree heat.

600 metres away I heard peak hours trains returning city workers to their air conditioned homes. We still had hours of pre-opening preparations ahead of us.  We kept going.

It took 15 minutes to wheel the scaffolding laden with materials  through the streets of Footscray to return it. We didn’t have money to hire a van.

Thursday  23 Nov 2017 

 

Larissa rang me around 10 am. “Raphael, I’m exhausted from the previous three days. I need all my energies for Friday.

I didn’t ask why. In the Disability world people work to what they can do.   They need to push through barriers others don’t understand.  Most days Larissa MacFarlane has hydrotherapy for chronic pain management.  Larissa has an acquired brain injury after she was hit by a car 18 years ago.. Art helps her express her world.

Three weeks earlier Larissa asked me to submit a piece of art for Disability Pride.

“What you do with words and pictures is special.  I would like you to get involved.”

“Sure. It’s an honour you asked me.” Larissa is a very gifted creative who has won a number of  Art awards That night I went to bed at 1:45 AM designing Reality City.. I had being up since 4:13 am. A twenty one and half hour day. I was going to Mildura the next day by bus.

Friday November 24 2017. Opening Night

The creative gods blessed us with tears of joy. They knew this was a step towards humanity.

Courage is standing for what we believed in. Disability Pride

Over 40 artist and creatives working together as one. For a common belief. Disability Pride

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One person drove 90 minutes in peak hour traffic to join us. That’s Disability Pride.

For many people, it was the first time, they publicly identified a having a disability. We understood. We created a safe, secure place where people accepted each other to express themselves in a way that held meaning  for them.   Everyone joined together sharing their stories of their journey.   That’s Disability Pride

They were volunteers showing others the accessible bathrooms were.  Teams worked together under Larissa’s instructions as she taught others how to put perfect Paste Ups on A Wall.  Groups added color and texture to their Art work on a trestle table.  Others took photos and chatted new friends.  Some needed time out. This is Disability Pride.

We had no food or hot drinks. No shelter.  No -one complained. This is Disability Pride

The Footscray Telephone Exchange in Irving St adorned with Art.  People like Kath Duncan, Jax Brown,  Larissa MacFarlane and Raphael Kaleb who who have identified with a disability for decades extended their strength to others to come forward with Disability Pride.  They did in huge numbers wanting Disability  Pride.

People asked “Was this an annual event?”

We surveyed our Art. We made a statement. We belong.

Larissa Macfarlane had a vision called Disability Pride. A legacy for future generations to say it’s ok to have  disability. We belong in the community. As people. As valued  members of  society that contribute to a better life for everyone.

It

In the weeks leading up to Disability Pride, Larissa told me she was feeling stressed and overwhelmed by all the paperwork and meeting all the requirements.  She pushed herself to create Disability Pride.

It was important to her. She wanted to give the Community a priceless of Gift. A space of acceptance, understanding and tolerance for others to express their Disability Pride.

Monday Dec 4 2017

Overnight this was taken away.  This is Larissa reaction. https://www.facebook.com/larissa.macfarlane?ref=br_rs&hc_ref=ARS0EqTxLd3yAGXIpNWVrxR3iocvqHX1JlVz3fSo8D5glfG3L9KmEkMqibsMrwwVpG0&fref=nf

Christmas is a time of sharing and caring Christmas is time of sharing and caring with others. About respecting one another. Including the lonely.  The forgotten members of society often have no where to go. With limited income, cheap leisure activities are few and far between.

I was proud and delighted that Larissa MacFarlane put together Disability Pride. People spent thousands of hours creating their Art work and volunteering their time. In fifty years of living I have never seen anywhere people with a Disability work together for one common cause without debates about individual disabilities. Larsissa MacFarlanes post was shared 132 Times in 15 hours when she stated stated the Disability Pride Wall was taken down . People were devastated asking why.  Apparently a contracted graffiti team from Maribynong Council didn’t think this was Art.

Maribynong Council was the council that gave permission for the exhibition for International of Disability and have offered a ‘sincere’ apology for its unauthorized destruction.

I emailed Maribynong Council on Tuesday night requesting an interview. I received an automatic response stating they would reply to my email within ONE working day. So far there is no response.

I rang Diedre Anderson the media spokesperson from Maribynong Council today  for an interview  with The Boldness on 3CR. It’s a Disability Current Affairs program.

She declined the interview instead saying Maribyrnong Council have issued a statement about what happened.  They promised me I would a receive a copy on Wednesday 6 Dec 2017. I rang around 11:30 am . Diedre assured me, I could was free to ask her questions about the statement. I still haven’t received it.

I still haven’t received the promised official state from Maribrynong Council. All these photos are the work that Artists submitted to display to the public. Council contractors removed them. They are gone. But I still have Disability Pride.

Footnote 

I emailed Martin Foley Minister for Arts. They returned my email and phone call within 3 hours. I spoke extensively with a representative from his office about what occurred.  They were in complete shock.They asked what I would like done. I gave them an opinion that included creating a permanent display. of Disability Pride on the original site. Footscray Telephone Exchange.  I gave them Larisssa MacFarlanes contact details. They have spoken with her directly. Stay tuned.

This is the Legacy of  Disability Pride.

written by Raphael Kaleb

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Wheelchair Athlete

 

Matthew Brumby is no ordinary athlete. He is extremely  competitive . Matthew Brumby  was  the first to finish the Burnie  10 K Run.  Lots of well wishers congratulated him  afterwards.  A few reporters quickly grabbed  him for interviews. My planned  holiday  plans  of 10 months  suddenly changed.

Matthew good naturedly gave me contact details between reporters questions.  I          knew this was the interview I wanted to do for The Boldness’s next broadcast on 3CR.

Early on when I contacted him, Matthew Brumby’s military back ground came through. “I googled you Raphael. You’re absolutely everywhere” I laughed. “That makes us even. Thought we could have a  preliminary chat before your interview on the 15 Nov.”

Over the 30 minutes I learned more about Matthew Brumby. The Burnie 10 K was his first race back after a 12 month break.   He wins it.  Upcoming events include the World  and Australian Championships.  Matthew says he would like to compete in a Triathlon.

Matthew Brumby has a very busy schedule. Between  training sessions he assists his parents on a farm and renovated a house.  Matthew has won nearly every Australian Event he has entered.  There’s a chance he will enter an event in Melbourne in November 2017.

Matthew Brumby gives back to the community constantly. Giving talks at schools and athletic clubs. “Talking at schools is important” he explains. “Some of the kids don’t understand Disability. Most of them have never met an athlete like me before and don’t know what to expect. It’s good for their education and encourages them to include their peers with a disability in sport and social events.

Matthew has plans for when he stops competing.  That’s his military training coming through. “Sometimes I question the training, the food,  travel; and accommodation.  The commitment that is needed. It’s expensive. But there’s a new challenge ahead. Triathlons.”

I have the feeling Matthew Brumby would make an Excellant Motivational Speaker sharing his experiences about Competing and Overcoming Adversity. How to set goals and achieve them too.

The half hour goes very quickly.  He’s witty with great  insight into what it takes to achieve success in his chosen field.

For sponsorship enquiries email Matthew Brumby smpmatty@hotmail.com ”

The Matthew Brumby interview is on The Boldness on 3CR, Melbourne 6 pm – 6:30 pm on Wednesday 15 November 2017 . http://www.3cr.org.au/boldness/episode-201711151800/boldness

 

#WheelchairLife, #ActuallyAutistic, #TheBarriersWeFace

 

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Review Jo and Co Cafe, Penguin Tasmania

The Power of Yes

Outside of Jo and Co Cafe 74 Main Rd Penguin Tasmania

A chef and a make up artist exchanged services for their respective weddings. A guest at the make up artists wedding asked “Who did her catering?” Mrs Bennetts Cooking was born.

The caterer thought carefully before deciding.

“I had worked in hospitality all my life.I decided to say Yes to everything provided it  was Do-Able.

That motto has taken Jo and Co Cafe from take away food to corporate functions,  to providing meals on ships, to catering from private events and special occasions such as weddings,

Usually we supply our expertise while clients supply kitchen facilities.

 

Mrs Bennetts Cooking catering reputation is growing.  While A Rambling Beurologist was there, a well known radio host ordered a sponge cake. The phone kept ringing with people making bookings. Many customers were greeted by name.

I enjoyed  a Lemongrass and Ginger Tea while across the road, the waves lapped the sand like a loving puppy greeting their owner.

I returned two days later. All the tables were full. This time I enjoying a  Baked Cheescake Slice with Strawberry Jelly on top.  It slid down my throat tasting better than  old fashioned home baking.

I noticed a number of medal winners from the Australian Masters Games sitting down relaxing.

 

I’m not the only person who appreciated their culinary delights.

Jo and Co Cafe Contact Details

74 Main Rd, Penguin Tasmania, Australia

Telephone  03 6437 2101

Email: joandcocafe@outlook.com

 

Photo credits of Jo and Co Cafe: Raphael Kaleb

 

About Raphael Kaleb:  Raphael was a Finalist in the 2015 Emerging Writers Festival.  Raphael was  host of A Rambling Beurologists Dream in 2016 and co-hosted  The Boldness on 3CR based in Melbourne since 2009.  In 2017 Raphael competed in National RAW Comedy. Over the past 12 months Raphael has appeared Into The Limelight shown at St Kilda Film Festival and featured in a documentary called Voices.

Contact Raphael Kaleb

Mobile 0434 613 306

Email raphalekaleb07@gmail.com

 

 

 

 

 

 

LADIES. Would You Put Up With This?

  Your success career, money are not dependent on feeble minded males.  If  the following  scene sounds familiar then read on. This is for you.

Follow the beurologist.  (W)riting all the wrongs of male thinking. 

 

“What are we having for dinner?” asked Jane.

“I don’t know. That’s your job.”

“You haven’t even given me a welcome home hug or asked how it went?

“ I’m hungry and  want pizza?” Bill gave Jane his mobile phone.

“I haven’t seen you for three months. I have missed you terribly. Baby, I was so lonely at night?”

“Making movies is not hard work. Acting is not a real job.”

“Make up starts at 4:30am. I need to be ready, on set at six for filming. Fifty people watching every move. Each night learning the next day’s lines. Putting up with this.” Jane waved a tabloid that announced her latest love interest to the world.

Then why don’t you tell them you are married?”

“My agent says it is better for my image. Bigger gross at the box office. Keeping you in the style you like.”

 

 

 

 

“I have to look after myself every time you are away.   Last time the entire cast had catered meals. You had a personal chef on call 24/7. I’m not one of your slaves meeting every demand. And I still want pizza”

“You are the one that sacked the maid, the chauffer, gardener and a cordon blue chef while I was working.”

“What the hell I am supposed to do when you are away? You call me every ninety minutes telling me what you are doing. You even assign private detectives to spy on me when I leave the house.”

“You insisted that being a house husband was fine. I pay all the bills. What kind of man are you””

“In that case can I eat fried rice off your pussy with chop sticks? You can pretend you are auditioning for a porno.”

“In my contract it stipulates a body double is used for nude scenes. I don’t want to jeopardise my marriage.”

“Is that all I am to you? Another possession.”

Together Bill and Jane made teenage pact they would support each other chasing dreams. That was three years ago. Jane was an A Grade bankable star. Bill couldn’t get work as an extra for television commercials.   She went to the guest wing, locked the door and started pounding the pillow. She  was better off  as a single  teenage runaway with  stardust in her hair.

Daring to Dream

Covering my bed is one blanket for the winter nights. It doesn’t matter. I can layer clothing like skiers during the snow season. They didn’t have electricity in Europe during the Renaissance Age when culture and education developed yet the legacy left behind is the basis of our society today.

Thanks to the No Interest Loans Scheme, a lap top makes it easier for me to butcher English. A Centrelink advance funded an internet connection earlier this year. My former father in law sternly stares at me from behind glass reminding me that I had no idea how to provide for a family.

From my third floor balcony the glacier of traffic below inches towards the smog of Melbourne CBD. I congratulate myself on creating a legacy that future generations may appreciate rather than something a property developer can improve on My youngest son laughingly suggested that my tombstone should have at least one spelling mistake and grammar error

Growing up over breakfast I would read stories of our family pet’s adventures that mum wrote while we were sleeping. During primary school readathons, my parents capped the number of books I could read raising funds for Multiple Scoliosis awareness. My male primary school principal explained to her that I should develop other interests.

In Grade V I had serious competition for homework essays. One student created a character called Juice whose epic struggles rivalled Ulysses. I wrote about Phar Lap, two up games and Australian drovers whose sure deft hands supported their Itinerant families. He used a dictionary to correct spelling during dictation tests. I was prepared for English composition by having a mother who could do a cryptic crossword in under ten minutes.

At fourteen when it was obvious I was not interested in becoming a priest, I received the career lecture. “Figures, boy, figures. You write extremely well but there’s no money in it. You need to support your family in the manner they expect.” A product of the Great Depression he grew up when dignity was not relying on charitable handouts. Success was measured by achieving financial independence or one child entering the Church.

Those closest to me decorate my walls. Three years earlier, my eldest sons tongue was like an axe chopping wood “Dad, if you want to write and play music for a career, that’s fine. Just don’t give us crap excuses about not doing it.” He didn’t mention the lack of job promotions and the prolonged periods of unemployment that may have given him a better life. Both my kids have more maturity, understanding and acceptance than I ever did.

I took out my greatest teacher’s last letter. Her words of wisdom echoed what she told me decades earlier. She reminded me that she thought I could make a difference as a writer if I worked at it.

When my parents married in the sixties, people lived their dreams. The Beatles were right. All want to be is a paper back writer.

 

THE END

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ATTITUDE PRINCESS

“I don’t pay you $500 for conversation.” Ice was pumping through the attitude princess’s circulation system.

“I’m so excited when I see you. It only happens twice a year, gushed the male hairdresser.

“Once is more than enough. Unless I need hair extensions. Without a two thousand dollar deposit I don’t open the front door. Working on an  all over tan is more important.”

She was wearing a black singlet with NO LOVE covering her heart. A male friend told her. “I thought better of giving you a Valetine’s Day card. I wasn’t  sure if you had an open fire.” Her bedroom door stated clearly Invitation Only. He hadn’t entered it.

Each day she ate 150 g of chocolate and 200 g of chips fried in duck fat. On doctors instructions. She was size five. Her green Ferrari was the result of a successful career. Males hit on her from 500 metres while holding the hands with their wives and partners. Females hated her. She epitomized everything they weren’t. Strong, Independent, Smart, Successful, and Single.

“Shall we explore downstairs” asked the beurologist.

“Asshole,” she thought. Certainly she smiled. Together they descended to the ground floor via the stairs.

“Hey bitch face”

A bubbly bleached blonde bounced up to the attitude princess.

“Spunky bum. So sorry I missed your class. It means I can escape from my boyfriend for an hour.”

The attitude princess bowed  her head sympathetically. She knew the boyfriend. Her friends had retired after her last relationship break up five years ago. They bought shares in every battery company. They knew her so well.

The beurologist raised an eyebrow.

“It’s a term of endearment” she explained. “If I didn’t like her I would use her right name.”

Amazing marvelled the beurologist. It was a great insight into how females thought.

“I’m going to write a song about you. Call it Attitude princess.”

“That’s okay. My brother calls me bitch.”

“Baby you asking for it. As a song writer that is too good not to use. I will email you the lyrics in the next two days”

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Three weeks later.

“My in box has 1533 people waiting for a reply. Count yourself lucky I opened it let alone read it. That’s hilarious. And it’s all true. Did you get my brother to help you?”

“No, but a girlfriend facebooked him to get the lowdown.”

“FUCK YOU”

The floor stopped as a snap Ice Age froze gym junkies into statues.

THE END

The above story is fiction. The video is real. Check it out.

 

Thank you to the Norah “The Riff Queen” Jane for composing chords and company and world acclaimed film maker Sarah Jane Woulahan making this reality. Without them this could not have happened.

 

 

 

 

ZUMBA

ZUMBA

The best way to ZUMBA is pretend you are staring in a porno on the moon streaming it  to Earth with an estimated live audience of 2 billion and going for it. Don’t worry about your parents watching. They did it at least once otherwise, you wouldn’t be here. Well at least your father did.

As usually the only male in the class there are immense benefits. I fantasise about been stewed slowly alive above a roaring fire after been kidnapped by a long lost tribe under the canopy of the Brazilian jungle.

Naturally they have taken advantage of me after abducting me from a safari exploring the dense jungle.  As a male fire breathing dragon fly- if you remember the Norm Life Be In It campaign of the Seventies and Eighties, you may understand the attraction.  They were the inspiration of my life work.  Becoming stronger than Hercules and soar like Icarus rather than fight for freedom as Spartacus. My Rolf Harris beard combined with the calmness of Jesus as he was arrested draws them to me as a mosquito smelling blood before feasting on the host.

I had always considered the possibility that God was a woman, chocolate or preferably a centerfold smothered with melted chocolate. Preferably Old Jamaica. Knowing the dangers of consuming liquor while exploring uncharted terrain and mystical fauna and flora that flourished under the canopy of 300 foot trees, I was certain that I was not seeing double.

Fifteen of them surrounded, our party of six.  Jumping to my feet, offering no resistance, I walked over courageously accepting my fate.  I left strict instructions for them for them not to pay any ransom.  Some stupid bastard didn’t understand English questioning “Why?” Pulling out my machete which had been used carving a path through the dense bush instead of using it for the purpose it was intended.   Responding with gratitude for the opportunity not to become back as Volkswagen, it sprang to life Knowing that it was satisfied and die with honor, I thanked it for saving my breath and not delaying my departure. A more seasoned traveler, Keith whispered “You Lucky Bastard” He was aware of myths of Amazon tribes.  Travelers Aid routinely warned Australians not to venture into the dense South American jungles.

Most Australian males dutifully ignored this once.  Vanishing into thin air after been seduced by the original inhabitants of Earth was better than a Marlin strike while game fishing. The fact the natives consumed you at the end of the mating ceremony  was a small price to pay. That is if you didn’t die of sexual exhaustion first.

It really was a small sacrifice. There were many benefits of the chosen one.  Firstly it saved a fortune in maintenance. Your  accidental death was covered by insurance companies that eventually paid separated spouses their rightful compensation.  This increased family wealth ensuring the offspring were not destitute. The government wasn’t concerned  as the payout increased the Gross Domestic Product, an indication of a nation’s standard of living. Potential immigrants were lured by the promise of a better life increasing the population.  Shop keepers and tradesman thought it was wonderful as they were selling goods and providing services for more than one person would ever buy or use.   The public investors were gladdened by better dividends driving up share prices.  Insurance companies lured more punters in with increased revenue in their prospectus. The father’s sons and daughters would be unaware of their half brothers and sisters on the other side of the world which ensured the tribe would become stronger. The male thought it was better than discovering Lassiters Reef and saved the family fortune and honor.

It was all good!!!  Beaming the beurologist  accepted his fate knowing his beneficiaries would understand he was in a better place and saving them the hassle of giving up every second weekend of a person they didn’t really want to see anyway.

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U GENERATION

Stared into the future

Childhood games

Playing hide and seek

Flooding back.

A baby is

A scary thing

Rehearsing early

Learning to sing.

Is a tree living free

Or a prisoner in captivity

Roots secured by trolls

Not allowed to stroll.

Only be

Who you are

Illuminate life

As shooting star.

CARBON TAX

CARBON TAX

For those who have stayed with the Emperor penguins on Mawson lately, we now have the Carbon Tax. From experience, the Disability Support Pension granted before 2000 is secure employment, however the hourly rate is not great. $2.75 for been on call 24/7 365 days a year, no public holidays, no overtime, shift allowances and forget about holidays let alone holiday loading. Even God rested on the seventh day.

It’s not quite enough for the finer things in life like electricity.  Thank you Julia and company for $250 bonus payment. I bought a heater. I forgot I had to turn it on to run it.

Human touch is normal human interaction.  Any one available for a sleep over? Great way to warm up and feel wanted. Try not to gripe about how unfair it is. Don’t worry about spreading infectious diseases, MYKI does it anyway. For some reason Legal Aid won’t fund a case about infectious disease control.  Do they understand disability is not catching. I’m not afraid of that, God Forbid I may end up normal.

Seriously during Winter, think about the Arctic Circle. Consider the foods of Siberia, Norway, Sweden and of course our good friends from Ice Road Truckers. Try fresh beetroot, salted herrings, dill, millet, maple syrup, porridge with poppy seeds to name a few.

Heat up the insides and ignite the internal fire to save on power bills. This way we can afford snail mail to federal politicians. With the internet, the Privacy Act doesn’t count.  Who knows who else is reading your emails.

Remember the Disability Support Pension (DSP) really stands for Dying, Starvation and Poverty,

How Clean Is Your House

When was the last time you mopped the ceiling?  Are you telling me that normal people only mop the floor?  What makes you think that you house is spotless if you have never cleaned the ceiling?

Let’s face it.  If person mops the floor or wipes down the outdoor setting of table and chairs before friends arriving for a barbeque if there is nothing visible, this is considered socially acceptable. Good manners. Fantastic social etiquette. It shows the person they care. They are comfortable with this.  It’s not like someone sat down with muddy clothing on it and it is visible for all to see.   Given there is nothing on it, I believe it borders on paranoia if nothing is visible.

By the same logic – there is no visible dirt on my ceilings, I routinely steam mop them.  I have never told my counselor this. They might think this is strange. They may even arrange an extended holiday for not acting in a normal, reasonable sane manner.  They may even include short term memory loss electric shock treatment.  One of my friends had this experience three times. They told me they were doing well remembering their name let alone recognizing the reflection in the mirror.

When I look in the mirror, I think I am looking at an Austwich survivor.  Closely cropped hair, sunken, desperate eyes with the rib cage of a half starved rat. I want to shoot the bloody thing. It reminds me of a dog with rabies that shouldn’t be roaming the streets of society.  At best I look like a space invader or an unwrapped Egyptian Mummy.

Most people clean the bathroom mirror; say on average twice a week.  I wonder if a person does more than this are they in danger of developing a narcissist complex. If they don’t clean it or is an indication that they are developing self loathing.  Personally I prefer them on the ceiling too.  It too needs decorating. That way it feels appreciated and wanted.

Cleasiness is next to Godliness.  I’ll settle for mopping the ceiling two or three times a week. I hate to think how much bacteria accumulated in my hair when it was look a sheep’s fleece.  My flowing locks did make me a fortune when I auctioned it off for American’s wigs.  I tried my toe and fingernails but they attracted little attention other than you sick bastard.   I have no wish to meet my maker without feeling my best.   Ceiling makes for a clean scalp and kind thoughts such as wining and dining you at maxims. Plus there’s a lot less chance of infection and no possibility of you getting a mouthful of hair on my handlebars.  .

I think that’s pretty normal. If I called my cat Dim Sim and started calling it in the front yard, I may offend someone.  What I do behind closed doors in no one else’s business.