Routines are a ‘beautiful’ thing. They provide us with a certain structure, security and comfort to our otherwise chaotic and unpredictable lives. But Matt Williams asks you whether sometimes it feels like your life is too controlled and structured?
Words: Matt Williams. Illustrations: Lisa King. Photos: Cate K.
It would be fair to suggest that we, as a society, are defined by our routines. Many of us would have been witness to average-sized groups of neatly-attired and presented young men and women going out on a Friday night with their friends of similar thoughts, beliefs and fashion-sense in the somewhat enjoyable pursuit of ‘getting smashed’ at the same club they have been frequenting for the past six months, oblivious to the repetition of music, religious consumption of vodka soda’s (with fresh lime, of course!) and the all-too-familiar deep and meaningful interactions with people you won’t remember when you wake up on Saturday or Sunday to then dutifully go back to school or work on Monday and repeat the process the following weekend. Such generalizations are, by their very nature, general, but greatly help to illustrate what we are all perhaps guilty of: repetition and routine in our social lives.
Many of us fall victim to the insidiously, yet subtle, scourge of the routineliness of Adelaide’s lifestyle. Maybe you plod along faithfully to Transmission for your repetitive indie/alternative ‘C-DJ’ experience? Maybe you head ‘underground’ for the once-a-week commercial-elctro night? In any case, ceaseless repetition in your social behaviours is what stops this town from growing, whereas a resurgence of creativity and individual freshness can easily take this place beyond the couch of its clichés.


The monotony of life experiences can be explained to an extent by the way we’re raised. The expectations of society, your parents… whoever, all place on you the responsibility to ‘achieve’. You’ve heard the usual diatribe: finish school, take a ‘gap’ year where you have a self-enlightening sojourn overseas volunteering in an Ecuadorian orphanage that endows you with the realization of how ‘lucky you are’ compared to little Jésus and Xavíer; then come home all-knowing, worldly and wise and enrol in a University or TAFE degree that, in the end, makes you realise that you know nothing at all but you enter the fray of the workforce regardless and end up marrying that confident, competitive special someone in accounts; you buy a house together and upon receiving your promotion to Vice-Under Secretary Deputy of Marketing Strategy, you have a couple of beautiful children; then you retire and die and bestow the legacy of this cycle upon your offspring. Or something like that…
Although this generalised depiction of youth in Adelaide, too, carries a certain validity, it is underpinned by a sense of hopelessness. But ambivalence does not mean hope is irreparably lost; on the contrary, it is because of this general disaffection with society that there exists the desire to challenge conventions and abolish expectations. When you know yourself, you know to pursue what you love and not what someone else tells you to love. If you don’t want to be a successful accountant like daddy…then don’t. If you find the thought of transporting heroin in your arse all the way from Thailand back to Adelaide three times a year, like your uncle, a rather unpleasant vocation then ‘fuck it’, find someone else to do it for you! That would be progressive – the kind of innovative and creative thinking our city is crying out for.
But I digress.
John Willanski and Lisa King are two people giving convention the finger. The two artists/designers/entrepreneurs are from very different backgrounds yet their experiences illustrate a common will, to find an ‘out’ from Adelaide’s routine. Just chatting with them made me realise the importance of discovering your passion and investing in it.
John Willanski is an odd fellow. I mean John no harm in calling him ‘odd’ as it his
oddity that makes him a unique individual and surely the component underpinning his distinctive artistic style which he calls
Ink Rain. If you meet John once, it is fairly certain that if you meet him again he’ll have no bloody idea who you are. This is wholly attributable to his severe dyslexia that inhibits him from recognizing faces (imagine the advantages). He will only be able to remember you by abstract association; such as a distinctive shoe colour or hair style. Why is this all relevant? Well, it makes John’s success with his art/design business
Ink Rain all the more remarkable and inspiring.

Although John considers his dyslexia an inherent part of his being and not an impediment to his life, it has created some obstacles. After completing his bachelor and honours degree in Multimedia, John found it rather difficult to get a job in his chosen field, as most employers required a higher level of proficiency in text-based problems than John could offer. Disenchanted with the workforce, John decided, like any decent, disillusioned graduate to exploit his true Aussie ‘right’ to the welfare system and subsequently realised that the realties of welfare payments did not quite ‘add up’ to the idea of them.
From many a bleary-eyed night in front of the tube watching movies and with it, the sketching of words and shapes into images as a coping mechanism for his dyslexia, John’s artistic style and art/design business
Ink Rain was born. With business strategies and mentoring from the government’s
New Enterprise Incentive Scheme (NEIS) John was not only able to create an outlet for his artistic expression and creativity but, moreover, could translate his passion for art into a viable, self-sustaining business that is trying hard to keep up with his growing popularity and reputation. This popularity and reputation has been generated, in large part, from the successful 2008 SALA Festival where John’s
Ink Rain Overflow exhibition at Tapedeck Razorblade gained widespread support. The appeal of John’s work is perhaps due to the multiple mediums on which he has evoked his style. From badges, puppets, t-shirts to lampshades, the body of John’s work is immense, dynamic and eclectic and continues to expand. John’s burgeoning success is a clear and inspiring example of what a bit of passion, creativity and self-belief can result in.

Many criticisms have been ditched Adelaide’s way. Incestuous, lazy, uncultured, the drug capital of Australia and a backwater are merely a few to add to the list of the city’s supposed faults. Walking down Rundle Mall on a rainy, wintry day in the middle of the week, many could be excused for detecting a faint scent of incest in the air, but just past our ‘iconic’ Malls Balls is a narrow laneway that just manages to hide a doorway to a flight of stairs that guide you to the very top of a building that boasts an amazing, very New York-esque space that is home to Paperhorse Studios – the new design studio/gallery run by manager Lisa King.
One thing you instantly notice about Lisa is that she is a rather petite individual. But her physical stature is by no means reflective of her grande vision and ideology for Paperhorse Studios and its ten live-in artists; aiming to become a renowned South-Australian arts initiative that will loudly and resoundingly gallop its hooves across Australia and the world’s art landscape. The ten artists each have a space mapped out by a flimsy bit of tape which is often transgressed in the spirit of collaboration, one of the most exiting aspects of Lisa’s space. This hubbub of free-flowing artistic energy, opinions and motivation instil a shared pursuit of success for the studio. In the vague haze of a daydream taking place in Manhattan, I had to check myself and realize I was in Adelaide.
By no means has the establishment of the studio been easy for Lisa. Without much money but armed with a barrel of vision and self-belief, Lisa backed herself, took a risk and is making it happen. After the successful opening night on April 30th this year, the studio has had extremely positive feedback from its exhibitions and especially throughout the 2008 SALA period. The continued growth and success of Paperhorse Studios will be a pleasure to watch.
It is possible to pursue your passions and be successful without following a predetermined or expected path in life. Flip the script, mix shit up and, ultimately, do something different. John and Lisa, while far from perfect in their individual pursuits, encapsulate a new vibe that’s on the rise in this city, one that needs to be nurtured. This doesn’t mean you have to drop your calculator and pick up a paint brush but just explore your alternatives, whether in career or entertainment. Too often you hear people whinging about nothing ever happening here but if you asked Adelaide herself why ‘nothing is going on,’ she might quote Eddie Murphy and ask, “What have you done for me lately?”
It’s a question that we should all ask ourselves. If we’re not giving to the city, if we’re not contributing, if we’re not supporting those who are growing this town then are we actually living here or just taking from here? Is it naïve to think that the rigidity of Adelaide’s inherent conventionality and routine can be undermined through individual change? Perhaps. But if it is not attempted at all, we will never know the full potential Adelaide herself has locked deep inside her bowels.

Comments
What's on?!
Wed, 05/11/2008 - 10:40 — JoshuaI always hear people say, "there's nothing to do in Adelaide". But increasingly I'm finding evidence to the contrary. Merge is all about connecting those who lust for entertainment and the ever elusive "new" with those people, like Lisa and John, who are doing something new... and down-right exciting. So stay tuned to Merge as we uncover more gems from the stacks of hay.