Now Playing Tracks

Ceeeelebrant Good Times, Come On!

Signing up to do a course in marriage celebrancy may well be the dumbest thing I have ever done. You may not agree with me (especially if you’ve known me longer than five minutes and are privy to the dumb things I have done), but at least this word processor certainly does: it really hates that I keep trying to use the word ‘celebrancy’, because it is convinced that no such word exists. Well it does. Because you need a Certificate IV in it to be able to conduct a civil wedding ceremony.

Did you know, when you pay your marriage celebrant upwards of $700 to solemnise your marriage, you are paying for ONE WHOLE PARAGRAPH of words? The bit about being authorised to solemnise a marriage, and the bit about how the Marriage Act stipulates one man and one woman entered into voluntarily blah blah bit offensive if you happen to be gay but beside the point let’s press on. Two sentences. That’s it. That’s the only part that is actual legal jargon; requiring authentication from the Attorney-General’s department. Literally every other part of your wedding is frou-frou bollocks. (Beautiful, symbolic, genuinely moving I-had-tears-in-my-eyes magical frou-frou bollocks.)

You probably did know that already. Maybe it’s just me that came out of the first weekend of my course with the mind-blowing revelation that any fuck willing to talk loudly enough can officiate a funeral or a baby-naming ceremony or a vow renewal or a lesbian gypsy non-denominational faux mitzvah with no qualifications whatsoever. Hell, you can officiate a full wedding too, provided you have a qualified celebrant on hand to actually sign the paperwork. (Full disclosure: a qualified celebrant has to also sign some paperwork at least thirty days prior as well, so it’s not like it’s completely a show-up-on-the-day kind of job, but it’s damned close.) The ability to speak well in public, or wrangle a restless crowd, or enunciate or use emotive words or any of that stuff is secondary. Which sucks, because that was my ace in the hole. It was the one thing that I thought gave me an advantage. To find out all that stuff is actually superfluous to demand? Imagine if Rihanna found out that her singing is actually secondary to her public ima—never mind.

Seriously, I looked into becoming a marriage celebrant because I wanted a job that would utilise my skills as a host/MC/public speaker/spotlight addict. Yes yes, I know, a wedding isn’t about the celebrant; it’s about the happy couple, but come on. Come on. They’re stood front and centre and they have a microphone and everyone hangs off their every word and the feeling I get in my stomach when I think about all those things helps me understand how people become meth addicts. But being good at that stuff doesn’t yet mean anything. You still have to complete fifty (yes, fifty) pieces of assessment, and I SUUUUUUCK at pieces of assessment. I have three years’ worth of university debt, I only went to university for two years, and I was a first year student for both of them. There is a reason for this: because I am so very, very terrible at completing pieces of assessment. This very piece of writing is proof of that: my boyfriend recommended I just open up a word document and start typing on the next assessment piece. So I did, and it turned into this. See? I’m doomed.

Starting this course definitely proved to me that I do not want to be a marriage celebrant. Like, at all. I’ve also been to a couple of weddings since starting the course and I look at the celebrants and I think I do not want your job. But I also don’t want to have yet another failed educational course under my belt (first year student two years running with three years’ of HECS debt, holla), so I feel like I should finish it. But that means I’m doing stuff I hate for nothing other than pride (and the fact that I dropped $1000 on this course). Is that enough of a reason to do something?

The fact that I’m already planning how to do the next piece of assessment suggests that yes, it is. But fair warning: I AM GOING TO COMPLAIN EVERY STEP OF THE WAY.

tristetriste - Things are Queer (1973) by Duane Michals This piece by Duane Michals comprises nine photographs, each one a detail of the one that follows. The first shot shows a bog-standard bathroom. Then the camera pulls back to reveal what is either an oversized man, or an undersized bathroom: the man’s foot is the size of the lavatory-bowl. During the ensuing sequence, it emerges that the photograph of the man in the tiny bathroom is itself a picture in a book being read by another man in an alley. Then it turns out that the man reading the book in the alley is also a picture of a picture in a frame which is hanging on a wall. The final twist in this circuitous tale is the revelation that this picture of the man reading the book in the alley is itself a picture hanging on the original bathroom wall. Things are Queer neatly challenges the viewer’s assumptions about the photographic version of reality. The sequence taken as a whole has a cheeky intrigue - at no point can we actually identify the perspective of the camera, the reality of each shot is superseded by the next.
Zoom
tristetriste - Things are Queer (1973) by Duane Michals This piece by Duane Michals comprises nine photographs, each one a detail of the one that follows. The first shot shows a bog-standard bathroom. Then the camera pulls back to reveal what is either an oversized man, or an undersized bathroom: the man’s foot is the size of the lavatory-bowl. During the ensuing sequence, it emerges that the photograph of the man in the tiny bathroom is itself a picture in a book being read by another man in an alley. Then it turns out that the man reading the book in the alley is also a picture of a picture in a frame which is hanging on a wall. The final twist in this circuitous tale is the revelation that this picture of the man reading the book in the alley is itself a picture hanging on the original bathroom wall. Things are Queer neatly challenges the viewer’s assumptions about the photographic version of reality. The sequence taken as a whole has a cheeky intrigue - at no point can we actually identify the perspective of the camera, the reality of each shot is superseded by the next.
Zoom
tristetriste - Things are Queer (1973) by Duane Michals This piece by Duane Michals comprises nine photographs, each one a detail of the one that follows. The first shot shows a bog-standard bathroom. Then the camera pulls back to reveal what is either an oversized man, or an undersized bathroom: the man’s foot is the size of the lavatory-bowl. During the ensuing sequence, it emerges that the photograph of the man in the tiny bathroom is itself a picture in a book being read by another man in an alley. Then it turns out that the man reading the book in the alley is also a picture of a picture in a frame which is hanging on a wall. The final twist in this circuitous tale is the revelation that this picture of the man reading the book in the alley is itself a picture hanging on the original bathroom wall. Things are Queer neatly challenges the viewer’s assumptions about the photographic version of reality. The sequence taken as a whole has a cheeky intrigue - at no point can we actually identify the perspective of the camera, the reality of each shot is superseded by the next.
Zoom
tristetriste - Things are Queer (1973) by Duane Michals This piece by Duane Michals comprises nine photographs, each one a detail of the one that follows. The first shot shows a bog-standard bathroom. Then the camera pulls back to reveal what is either an oversized man, or an undersized bathroom: the man’s foot is the size of the lavatory-bowl. During the ensuing sequence, it emerges that the photograph of the man in the tiny bathroom is itself a picture in a book being read by another man in an alley. Then it turns out that the man reading the book in the alley is also a picture of a picture in a frame which is hanging on a wall. The final twist in this circuitous tale is the revelation that this picture of the man reading the book in the alley is itself a picture hanging on the original bathroom wall. Things are Queer neatly challenges the viewer’s assumptions about the photographic version of reality. The sequence taken as a whole has a cheeky intrigue - at no point can we actually identify the perspective of the camera, the reality of each shot is superseded by the next.
Zoom
tristetriste - Things are Queer (1973) by Duane Michals This piece by Duane Michals comprises nine photographs, each one a detail of the one that follows. The first shot shows a bog-standard bathroom. Then the camera pulls back to reveal what is either an oversized man, or an undersized bathroom: the man’s foot is the size of the lavatory-bowl. During the ensuing sequence, it emerges that the photograph of the man in the tiny bathroom is itself a picture in a book being read by another man in an alley. Then it turns out that the man reading the book in the alley is also a picture of a picture in a frame which is hanging on a wall. The final twist in this circuitous tale is the revelation that this picture of the man reading the book in the alley is itself a picture hanging on the original bathroom wall. Things are Queer neatly challenges the viewer’s assumptions about the photographic version of reality. The sequence taken as a whole has a cheeky intrigue - at no point can we actually identify the perspective of the camera, the reality of each shot is superseded by the next.
Zoom
tristetriste - Things are Queer (1973) by Duane Michals This piece by Duane Michals comprises nine photographs, each one a detail of the one that follows. The first shot shows a bog-standard bathroom. Then the camera pulls back to reveal what is either an oversized man, or an undersized bathroom: the man’s foot is the size of the lavatory-bowl. During the ensuing sequence, it emerges that the photograph of the man in the tiny bathroom is itself a picture in a book being read by another man in an alley. Then it turns out that the man reading the book in the alley is also a picture of a picture in a frame which is hanging on a wall. The final twist in this circuitous tale is the revelation that this picture of the man reading the book in the alley is itself a picture hanging on the original bathroom wall. Things are Queer neatly challenges the viewer’s assumptions about the photographic version of reality. The sequence taken as a whole has a cheeky intrigue - at no point can we actually identify the perspective of the camera, the reality of each shot is superseded by the next.
Zoom
tristetriste - Things are Queer (1973) by Duane Michals This piece by Duane Michals comprises nine photographs, each one a detail of the one that follows. The first shot shows a bog-standard bathroom. Then the camera pulls back to reveal what is either an oversized man, or an undersized bathroom: the man’s foot is the size of the lavatory-bowl. During the ensuing sequence, it emerges that the photograph of the man in the tiny bathroom is itself a picture in a book being read by another man in an alley. Then it turns out that the man reading the book in the alley is also a picture of a picture in a frame which is hanging on a wall. The final twist in this circuitous tale is the revelation that this picture of the man reading the book in the alley is itself a picture hanging on the original bathroom wall. Things are Queer neatly challenges the viewer’s assumptions about the photographic version of reality. The sequence taken as a whole has a cheeky intrigue - at no point can we actually identify the perspective of the camera, the reality of each shot is superseded by the next.
Zoom
tristetriste - Things are Queer (1973) by Duane Michals This piece by Duane Michals comprises nine photographs, each one a detail of the one that follows. The first shot shows a bog-standard bathroom. Then the camera pulls back to reveal what is either an oversized man, or an undersized bathroom: the man’s foot is the size of the lavatory-bowl. During the ensuing sequence, it emerges that the photograph of the man in the tiny bathroom is itself a picture in a book being read by another man in an alley. Then it turns out that the man reading the book in the alley is also a picture of a picture in a frame which is hanging on a wall. The final twist in this circuitous tale is the revelation that this picture of the man reading the book in the alley is itself a picture hanging on the original bathroom wall. Things are Queer neatly challenges the viewer’s assumptions about the photographic version of reality. The sequence taken as a whole has a cheeky intrigue - at no point can we actually identify the perspective of the camera, the reality of each shot is superseded by the next.
Zoom
tristetriste - Things are Queer (1973) by Duane Michals This piece by Duane Michals comprises nine photographs, each one a detail of the one that follows. The first shot shows a bog-standard bathroom. Then the camera pulls back to reveal what is either an oversized man, or an undersized bathroom: the man’s foot is the size of the lavatory-bowl. During the ensuing sequence, it emerges that the photograph of the man in the tiny bathroom is itself a picture in a book being read by another man in an alley. Then it turns out that the man reading the book in the alley is also a picture of a picture in a frame which is hanging on a wall. The final twist in this circuitous tale is the revelation that this picture of the man reading the book in the alley is itself a picture hanging on the original bathroom wall. Things are Queer neatly challenges the viewer’s assumptions about the photographic version of reality. The sequence taken as a whole has a cheeky intrigue - at no point can we actually identify the perspective of the camera, the reality of each shot is superseded by the next.
Zoom

tristetriste - Things are Queer (1973) by Duane Michals

This piece by Duane Michals comprises nine photographs, each one a detail of the one that follows. The first shot shows a bog-standard bathroom. Then the camera pulls back to reveal what is either an oversized man, or an undersized bathroom: the man’s foot is the size of the lavatory-bowl. During the ensuing sequence, it emerges that the photograph of the man in the tiny bathroom is itself a picture in a book being read by another man in an alley. Then it turns out that the man reading the book in the alley is also a picture of a picture in a frame which is hanging on a wall. The final twist in this circuitous tale is the revelation that this picture of the man reading the book in the alley is itself a picture hanging on the original bathroom wall. Things are Queer neatly challenges the viewer’s assumptions about the photographic version of reality. The sequence taken as a whole has a cheeky intrigue - at no point can we actually identify the perspective of the camera, the reality of each shot is superseded by the next.

(Source: jonyorkblog)

To Tumblr, Love Pixel Union