ISSUE ONE AN INTRODUCTION April 2014
A MESSAGE FROM THE FOUNDER LUKE STRATFORD
Hello, and thank you for choosing to read the very first web edition of Planet Peppermint. We are still in our very early stages, and continue to learn, so please be patient if things aren't quite right - we’re getting there! It would not have been possible to create this without the support of the wonderful artists that I am proud to feature in this first edition. Enjoy, Luke.
ART PHOTOGRAPHY
MUSIC WRITING
COVER ART
ART
BY @omfraw AN INTERVIEW WITH THE ARTIST
Be immersed into the acid trip-like world of Indonesian artist Fraw. From haunting sketches to out of this world explosions of colour - this artist is definitely not on the same planet as the rest of us.
Your work seems so bizarre that it’s hard to imagine how you get started, what’s your inspirations and artistic process?
I got my drawing talent from my father, when I was young I drew all over my room walls. My biggest inspirations for the first time was an artist named Keaton Henson and then I like all the badass works by Neckface and Alexandra Waliszewska. Sometimes I do it spontaneously and sometime I draw with mixing the art from portrait and anatomies and I draw it with my surrealist instinct.
A lot of your work is done in notebooks, why is this?
I have done it on sketchbook, canvas, and walls (mural). The doodles that I did, some of them was on the go in notebooks, some was to kill my time, and some work I has been planned that way.
What can fans of your work expect in the future?
I want to have as much appreciation from people like you and for my work to go international. I hope that I could hold exhibitions which are international and local.
You can see more of Fraw’s work on his Tumblr page theblackendtumor.tumblr.com or follow him on twitter @omfraw
PHOTOGRAPHY
PHOTOGRAPHY
BY DARREN JOHNSON
idjphotography.com @iDJPhotography
MUSIC
FAN GIRL THE 1975 BY CHLOE From supporting The Rolling Stones last summer, to selling out 3 Brixton dates before a released album, followed by a number one debut album, The 1975 have created a great impression on thousands of fans, especially me. I am a huge fan of The 1975 and have been since discovering 'Chocolate' and 'The city' on the music channel early last year. Since then I've seen them twice and seeing them again this month and hopefully a couple more times on their September tour!
I've met the front man Matthew Healy both times, the drummer George and the bassist Ross the second time! They're lovely genuine people and I hope to meet them sometime again in the future. Matty remembered me the second time round as he said "Oh I've met you before haven't I?" probably because the first time I met him I burst into tears and he spent 5 minutes trying to calm me down! After the first time seeing them I booked tickets for a second because I loved it so much! I began creating a fan book hoping to hand them in Birmingham - which I did!
Both times seeing them have been an amazing experience for different reasons. The first time I was very emotional as I couldn't believe I was there. This band I had been admiring for almost a year, there faces all over my wall to them being there right in front of me! It was incredible. The second time however had to be the best, I held back tears as they walked on stage and I'm so glad I did! I was able to enjoy the show more and didn't stop dancing all night. I had been queuing for 6 hours in the cold February, but it was worth it because I got the barrier! (As close as you could get!) As the last song was finishing and the band members began leaving the stage, the thousands of people that were behind me all begin to head for the doors, I stand there still pumped and my ears still ringing wondering what to do now. I then began to follow everyone out of the doors and head for their tour bus hoping to meet them again. Luckily I met 3 members of the band this time although it meant waiting until 1am for George to come out! (The things fans do) I suffered post gig blues after both shows which left me in tears for ages! (What can I say, I’m a fan girl). The 1975 have to be the best discovery I have ever made and I don't know what I would do without them now they're here. I suggest if you haven't heard of them or listened to their music you drop what you're doing right now and search it, you won't regret it for a second! Sincerely, probably the craziest The 1975 fan.
GIFTS
WRITING
BY NATHAN RATAPU My cat has started predicting our deaths.
It is that or she's feeling neglected and wants our praise. Regardless, the timing is impeccable. It started with Shar, when we still thought she was going to pull through with a wig and wrist veins to show for it. Cat – because I never named animals lest I have to leave them – had brought three pigeons that time. I would later learn three was how many miscarriages Shar had. They were lined up neatly on our front porch. When I told Shar on the phone, I was sobbing and didn't know why. Shar had to reach for her hoarse whisper to get me to come to my senses. She then said very plainly, “Tell Mike to not go to any widower mixers. Not for at least a year.” This morning. I woke up, spread eagled on the bed with Ben rolled up foetus-like in the corner. The sounds of Ben's sobs and the cats nudging purrs mixed in my mind. For a moment I thought I was in my yoga class, with all the elderly women I taught ommhing in unison. I had found Cat living in an animal commune outside Sister Montrose's house. Sister had kept, and sometimes stolen, all of her dead friends' pets and let them live in the barn out back. After the earthquake, the scene had been a neo-classical painting, animals replacing the people wandering through the ruins of their destroyed city. While the other animals, a mix of dogs, gerbils, cats and birds (sometimes even a snake), sought Orwellian peace, Cat lived on Sister's porch. Everyday she would wait for Sister to give her the first taste of the day's scraps, and then claw her paws against the door. When I visited Sister, she pointed out Cat right away. “Mind sharp as a tack that one. She can sniff out anyone and any prey and get to them before they even know she's there.” Cat found Sister's body two days before anyone knew she was dead. When I took Cat away, I overheard the paramedic whisper, “Imagine a cat feeding its owner dead mice. Now imagine a feast of dead mice.” Cat sat upright at my feet, cocking her head to the left. She blinked twice and shifted her eyes down to her paws. Curled up like Ben were a pair of dead baby rabbits. “Oh. Fuck.” I instinctively checked my own breasts for lumps, before gauging Ben's pulse. I had promised not to wake him until eight, but I knew he had never fully gone to bed. I had known this for four days. I tried to imagine what Cat was thinking of right now. Give me a hug; I just killed your breakfast. In my mind, I counted off the number of us in the hospital. Two, maybe three tops? It was hard to keep track after all these years, and sometimes people had hidden ailments. No-one knew Sister Montrose had this black shroud looming over and inside her until she passed. It happens over years or in the space of a minute; you get prodded with the scythe or it comes down like a guillotine.
When my pet rabbit Rabbit had been run over by Terry, my dad's lover, mum sat me down and said, “It's time for Rabbit's long sleep.” In college, my friends and I would joke about that day we would have the one big sleep that would make us feel like real people again. You only learn as you get older that what mother said was right – you sleep well when you die, until then it's a façade. “Meow.” Cat nudged the rabbits forward a bit in case I hadn't noticed them. Was Ben sobbing louder now? I moved a hand toward the cat's ear to give her a scratch. I wasn't afraid of the rabbits anymore. Cat had mercy killed them, biting their necks and cleanly severing the spinal column. She had even licked the blood off the bodies so that when I cleaned the sheets later I would only need to wash them twice instead of throwing them out. My phone was dead. If anyone was trying to call me to report a murder or an aneurysm I wouldn't know. Maybe it was better to forget them all. I shook Ben gently. He groaned too quickly for someone coming out of a dream. “Ben, don't pick up the phone today. Let's stay in bed.” “What? I told you not to bother me…” “I know what you said, but let's pretend like I actually care right now. Did you hear what I said? Don't answer the phone.” He kicked out a leg and hit one of the rabbits. Cat narrowed her eyes and knocked the foot away. This was her prize; I was her friend and companion. When Lucy had overdosed on her sleeping pills the day Cat gave me a baby sparrow, I went to Ben about it. “The cat thought its owner was sleeping for two days, hon. It fed a dead corpse mice for two whole days. I really don't think it is that observant.” I thought Rabbit was sleeping for two whole years. I turned off all of our alarms. I went around opening and closing windows, trying to find the perfect temperature to just ignore the world, the death around me and in front of me, so I could sleep. I picked up Cat and held her close to my face, rubbing our foreheads together. Cat chewed on the corner of her lip, unsure. I slipped a bag from the bathroom around my hand and picked up the rabbits with care, leading them to the windowsill. They still looked like they were just waiting for the right moment to fool us and run away.
POETRY it’s like it’s like i’ve been in these nightly dreams for three nights and you’re and you’re actual and he’s actually there i’m in his beige bed though just spinning and i feel for his cock for comfort and then my stomach just dropped into my feet and i think i was probably
JESSICA CARROLL jsscarroll.tumblr.com
dying dragging shuffling and wiping my eyes hands were shaking too i’m drowning in this wonder like “are you happy, then?”
I Hope when I die Someone holds me close And as I take my last breathe I dissipate into their soul
"do you still have dreams about me too?" dangerous weight
you walked by and ignored me i can’t ask you because you walked me by
SIGHborg JILL FATE BY
Dumb damned faces stare into dull dim screens Unplug your brain and wake up You are not a robot leave no stone, dive into the waters of something other than normalcy You're not going mad, you're just waking up becoming what you have always been. Taking off the veil that has been forced upon you. Close your eyes and breathe in the particles of the being you once were.Â
Thank you for reading the introduction to Planet Peppermint, this is just a taste of what’s to come - our next issue will be bigger and better! The next issue will follow the theme of gender. If you would like to submit for this issue, please email your work, or a link to your portfolio to planetpeppermintblog@gmail.com