Day 8 (Procrastinate)

I often wonder if all artists have the same fears.

Day 7 (Double Exposure)

I could not decide on an image for today. I had fun with my ideas - perhaps so much so that I could not decide on a single image. I asked C and I struggled to agree with his opinion... though I must say I do enjoy involving him in my little creative projects. It's a way of sharing a major part of me with the one I love. I don't always agree with his opinions but they are always valued and respected.

So while I chose the above image, he chose the below one.


I also want to make mention of the fabulous EMPTY magazine, discovered through another online artist and after sending them my credit card details on Monday, their current issue arrived in my letterbox today. I was most impressed with the publication and look forward to the next issue.

Day 6 (Pictorial)

I have
no
words
today.

Day 5 (Keeping the Rythym)

In relation to yesterday's post, or at least the title, I've made a decision to compose all images of Project 35 in a square format.

I remember an old lecturer at Melbourne School of Art, (at which I attended part time from the age of 16-18 but never really completed a full course), that a square format/composition was the most challenging. Of course, this may not be everyone's opinion but since that day I have challenged myself to many a square composition and failed as much as I have succeeded.

Recently, after sending 4 works (2 square and 2 rectangular) over to New York for a 6 woman show in October last year, Ad Hoc Director, Andrew Michael Ford wrote to me with feedback on the show and my work stating ~

I personally feel that you work better in the square format, and that has been the general consensus about your work. This is of course regardless of size. You just happened to do small squares which many people enjoyed more than the rectangular pieces.

I find the square extremely dynamic as well as challenging, and whilst some of my Project 35 images will work in this format, and some will not, I am using each image, and the editing of, as a way of exploration of this format.

I thought about skipping a day today, as I am already tired of the 'self portrait image', (after only 5 days!)... but it is not about that - it is about the discipline. As simple and even bland as today's image is, it is also very symbolic, or related very closely to my most recent paintings of waitress vs artists - or on a broader scale me vs me. The tug of war. The double life. Wanting to be two places at once... and of course that B word that is BALANCE.

Day 4 (Squaring Things Up)

Day 3 (Sunday's my Friday)

I was fortunate enough recently to discover, or perhaps 'uncover', the generosity of a number of Australian artists.

Whilst many people are claiming to be 'bushfired out' - which I find a really strange term - it is evident that the devastation caused by the recent Victorian bushfires still effects many, both directly and empathetically. Just watching this evening's news and seeing footage of last night's Bushfire Aid concerts, with 81,000 attending the Victorian gig, is confirmation that the majority of Australians just want to contribute 'something' as a way of a donation to this appeal.

I knew I was not in a position to donate a lot of money personally, so I contacted the very generous and empathetic Mark Jamieson, (director of Brunswick Street Gallery), about holding a charity art auction, who quickly said yes to lending me a hand and donating the gallery space. I could not have put it all together without his help, and of course the help and generosity of the artists who donated work and the volunteers who donated time... and last but not least - despite the weather being hideous that night - the people who came out to support the event and purchase art in the name of charity.

Of course, with the current economic status, people weren't spending big dollars, but as a collective, we managed to raise just short of $13,500 for the Australian Red Cross Bushfire Appeal, as well as give people the opportunity to own some great art for the cost of a humble donation.

Day 2 (Without Words)

Project 35

I worked/painted in my new studio today - for the first time. I've just finished for the day as I have to go to work and whilst I did not achieve a lot, I am looking at the bigger picture as a huge achievement and looking forward to spending a lot more time in there. I sat in there for a couple of hours yesterday and couldn't even make a mark - so today was progress. I was so anxious yesterday that I had far too many ideas going through my head that I could not even get started on one. So it was a great feeling today to be making some marks on the canvas again. Another joy I am reveling in is not having to pack everything up before going to work. My last 'studio space' was part of the lounge room in our house and I was forever making sure everything was away, protected from kids, dogs, vacuum cleaners and the likes - and whilst I will still strive to maintain some sort of order in my work space, it is a luxury to be able to leave things wherever I like in my space and just shut the door behind me.

I think it will take a little while for me to get my painting mojo back but the desire is as strong as ever. I'll just enjoy the ride. I find myself just wanting to latch on to everything in my life in an artistic way - or for artistic inspiration... wanting to turn everything I do into something 'creative'... it makes sense to me anyway. So while I contemplate my next body of work (paintings), and try to once again familiarise myself with artistic discipline, I am going to use my blog and my digital camera, (amongst an array of other things), to help me attain that. I am going to set myself a series of little goals to help me with that D thing. Or is it C thing? Commitment perhaps.

Today I am starting Project 35. A shorter version of the evergrowing and popular 365 Project, (that may have a few other names), where artists create a self portrait image for every day of the year - or at least make their best effort to. As I have recently turned 35, I thought I would use this number as my project guide and see if I can discipline myself to be at least a little creative for at least some part of every day over that time period.

A lot of people have said to me, and other artist I know, that we (artists) are a self obsessed bunch. That may or may not be true - in any or all of the cases... but just as I write this blog for me, and only me - to document things that I choose and perhaps even hope will be of interest to me, or used as reference, in the future - I am also doing 'Project 35' for myself alone.

I don't often write in this blog as though I am speaking to anyone else, as it is me speaking to myself about I... but if anyone else is offended by anything I say or post on here, you have the choice to not read it or view it.

Standing on the Outside Looking In

It's time I get back in the game.

Having an extended break from making art has its positives as well as its negatives. It's high time I put them together and turn them into inspiration... and then into art.

I'm so grateful to have my new studio space... and in a sense, no more excuses.

Holy Smoke!

With fires still burning in a number of areas in Victoria, it does my fucking head in that people STILL throw lit cigarette butts out of car windows!

Pause for a Cause

I've not written for some time, nor painted... not since I was 34.

Another year has passed.

Recent weeks have seen me busy organising this.


Despite the news of them dying down, the fires are still very much alive. They have destroyed so much and far too many. May they soon cease.

Nothing on my Tongue but Hallelujah!

My anxiety began at work on Saturday, at around 1pm. I was going to see one of, if not THE most influential artist/s of and 'on' my life and my own art. Nothing was going to stop me from fulfilling this dream now!

I arrived home 3pm, where C was getting ready. I don't think he'd seen a smile as big as mine for quite some time - not on my face anyway. I had waited a long time for this. Actually, for many years I was convinced I would never have the opportunity to witness the presence of this remarkable man. His words, poetry and music have lived inside me for years, and I had resigned myself to the fact that that alone would have to suffice. And for many years it did. Mr. Cohen has had, and continues to have, an extraordinary influence of my life, my writing and my art. In my mind - he is something else. He is not just a poet, he is not just a musician, or a wordsmith, or an artist, or a wise old soul - he is all these things and a whole lot more.

His books, his poems, his lyrics and his music have both moved and challenged me. They have pushed and pulled and stirred up emotions of every kind - even some I was unaware of until I was aware of him. He has done all of this without ever knowing me. For this - I thank him.

C and I took the motorbike which proved a smart transport option, as the traffic was near a stand still for a large stretch of the road that lead to the estate where he would perform.

The sun was shining over the vines as we entered the winery - on what seemed a perfect afternoon... could it get any better? I was about to see Leonard Cohen... LIVE.

The great man was due on stage at 7:30 but casually strolled out around 15 minutes early - as though he could not wait any longer to grace the stage and do what he was born to do. It had been a long time between tours for him - and even longer since he had performed in this country.

In Cohen's own words - It's been a long time, about 15 years since I was on stage - I was 60, just a young kid with a crazy dream. and now - this 74 year young kid was making one of my dreams come true.

He opened with 'Dance me to the End of Love', his baritone voice resonating through the 7000 plus crowd. His voice was everything I had imagined it would be - only better - and his presence was something else. I was moved to tears several times and as silly or corny as it may sound, my heart hurt a little when he skipped off stage for the final time at the end of his 3rd encore.

I did not want the music or the night to end.


Set 1
1. Dance Me to the End of Love
2. The Future
3. Ain't No Cure for Love
4. Bird on the Wire
5. Everybody Knows
6. In My Secret Life
7. Who By Fire
8. Chelsea Hotel #2
9. Hey, That's No Way To Say Goodbye
10. Anthem

Set 2
11. Tower of Song
12. Suzanne
13. The Gypsy Wife
14. The Partisan
15. Boogie Street
16. Hallelujah
17. I'm Your Man
18. A Thousand Kisses Deep [recitation]
19. Take This Waltz

Encore 1
20. So Long Marianne
21. First We Take Manhattan

Encore 2
22. Famous Blue Raincoat
23. If It Be Your Will
24. Democracy

Encore 3
25. I Tried to Leave You
26. Wither Thou Goest

The set list was one I could have only dreamed of. If I had to pick highlights, Hallelujah! and a sublime recital of A Thousand Kisses Deep would be up there. Just seeing the man was a highlight - hearing him sing, and everything else was just a bonus.

Thank you Mr. Cohen. Thank you for making the night a gift.

Humbled in Love

I want to thank Mr. Cohen for such a fabulous performance last night. He is truly a master and I believe, truly a gentleman.

I could, and most likely will, say a lot more when next I write - when I am not so tired. For now, I am still digesting all the thoughts and emotions that Leonard conjured up inside of me last night.

I am just so grateful and elated to have seen him perform.

Every Breath We Drew...

Two years ago, on this day, Jeff Buckley's rendition of Hallelujah had a profound effect on me. I'd heard it many times before, but from that day on, my thoughts wandered to a special place whenever it was played.

My connection to the song itself was always evident, only now it runs deeper.

It seems only fitting that I may hear it sung, live, by its creator tomorrow evening.

We are all beautiful losers in some way...

Mii, Myself and I

It's a little bit sad that the most creative, or artistic, thing I have done lately is create a Mii for me on the Wii. I'm having serious paint brush withdrawals.


I also created one for C. I had to laugh at the likeness - in both cases.

Blog and Block

I have a water logged ear. It's been blocked since Tuesday morning. It's now Thursday evening and still no change of tide in the canal. It's annoying but not unbearable. I dare say I will have to have it looked at if it stays like this for longer than another 24 hour period. Just when I think it's going to go 'pop' and make that sound of water draining somewhere into or out of my head, it remains stagnant. I can only imagine how nice it will feel when the water 'breaks'.

And all because I went to the gym, (+pool), for the first time in around 6 months - that'll teach me for wanting to get fit! Now I truly know why I no longer make new years resolutions.

Is this all I have to blog about? Pretty much yes. I dedicated a good 70+ hours to work last week - unfortunately none of it was of the artistic kind - hence I've really not much inspiration to ramble on about anything much.

It's getting closer to our house moving date and I am getting a little excited at the prospect of setting up a new studio space. I've a feeling I may not paint until then which will be hard in the short term - but possibly all worth it in the long run. It's almost time for me to start packing my art materials and all other possessions into cardboard boxes anyway.

Moving house is a big thing in a number of ways. Sometimes it's not always desirable or positive - but in this instance, for me, it is both.

On the subject of art however... or subjective art perhaps - this article on the front page of The Age caught my eye today. I am too tired right now to express any thoughts on the matter but it is something I may come back to at some point. Or not.

The Annual Reflection

Despite not officially making any resolutions for the new year - partly through fear of failure - I am reflecting a little on the year that was 2008.

Due to my obsession with things, (and moments/times), being symbolic, the new year is always a transient period for me, or at least it is inside my head. My mind is today, packed with a capacity crowd of thoughts and memories, which, mixed together, lead the way to much contemplative reflection... Hopefully followed by a great leap forward.

Happy new year world.

A Full Plate For Summer

The year is nearly over, but for me, the madness of the season has just begun. I have every intention of making this the last Summer I spend caught up in hospitality chaos - where a standard day involves a good 15 hours working, at a fast pace, on one's feet.

It's a catch 22 this Summer as I will possibly be working harder for the silly season than ever before - for anything but a silly reason. C and I have recently made a financial commitment that must be fed by these crazy Summer hours, and, although I am neglecting my art temporarily - and feeling terribly guilty for it, it is all for a good cause, and hopefully one that will allow and encourage me to focus even more attention on my art than ever before, and turn my plate into a palette, once Summer is over.

I've not seen my family or old/close friends for quite some time now and I must say I miss many of them very much. Sometimes I feel like I live in a different country, not just a different suburb or city. I do believe those that know me will understand the reasons for distance and also know that the distance is only physical, not emotional. For the first time in quite some time, I missed the annual catch up with the girls, (from school days - 2 I have known since I was 5), and I must say I was a little upset to not have made it this year. There were a number of reasons for my absence, including work, transport and C's son's 7th birthday. It's just a mad time of year for many I guess.

So mad in fact that last week, whilst coming home from one job to prepare for another, I managed to lock myself, my phone and the dog, out of the house. I'd come home to feed the dog, and myself - time allowing, and a few other little things, only to find the laundry a little worse for wear... so out came the mop and once the floor was clean I threw the dog in the bath, along with his bedding and gave everything a good clean. Whilst wringing and drying everything outside, the back door slammed shut and initially I though nothing of it as I was in 'let's get this all sorted' mode. So it wasn't until I went to get changed that I realised the door was locked, and the keys were inside. I reached for my phone but already knew it was not on me - besides - I had no pockets. I was in a t-shirt and underpants... trying to spare ALL my clothes getting wet. For a brief moment I really was not happy and struggled to think of what to do next. I spotted a solitary towel on our hardly ever used clothes line, wrapped it around my waist and walked out to the front yard to find my neighbour - who I have never spoken to in the 18 months I have lived in this house - working on his front fence. I smiled coyly and asked if he had a mobile phone I could use and proceeded to explain my predicament.

It was after the explanation that I officially introduced myself, thankfully he was aware I was his neighbour and not just some random walking the streets in a towel. So with around 5 weeks before we move into our new place, I now know my neighbour's name is Campbell - and to Campbell I'm now grateful.

Fortunately I was able to reach C at work, who then promptly came home to save the day.

Christmas came and went and felt just like another day for the most part. C and I worked until around 4pm and were reminded that it was a special day when the kids came over to collect their gifts and spend the evening. I must confess, I have become a wee bit fond of the Wii that was given to 'the family' from Mr. Claus himself. Thanks big fella. And even though doing Wii Fit yoga is not as good as the real thing, it's helping to at least make me feel as though I am doing something for myself other than working - I plan to get back to real classes some day... though I will not be making any new years resolutions - I don't need to put that sort of pressure on myself. I will just continue, as I have every year, with my quest to find balance.

So, whilst I am lacking a little of my desire, or the motivation, to write, I continue to make the effort so as not to stop altogether. In some ways, even though I do not have much to speak of on the artistic front, writing helps me feel as though that creative side is still present inside me... just caught up in other things temporarily... and this time, it feels less like an excuse and more like a grand plan - and for that, despite how much I am missing my paints and canvas, I am grateful.

And despite not having many words to say that directly relate to my art - I suppose in some weird way it is all relative... and I must thank L and G and all those involved in the recent sales of my work in Perth, apparently 4 works to one client who has said to be interested in a 5th piece. It's these moments, (and not even for the financial windfall - though it is a bonus), that keep me striving towards my goal and remind me that it is, and will be, all worth it.

Passion Fruit

I just got back from the supermarket...with two perfect pomegranates. This little find was rather exciting (for me)... but as I must rush off to work now, I will return to this topic, with an explanation of my excitement, next time I write.

Sometimes it really is just the little things... and those are really good 'times'.

Something Old, Something New; the car my grandfather gave me was blue.

Just before my last post on this here blog, I took an empty garbage bag, and proceeded to fill it with bits and pieces from my car as I prepared it to be towed away the next day.

I knew the day had to come. After months of procrastination the battery had completely given up, which saw the vehicle never move from the one spot in the front yard. The tyres eventually completely hidden by the tall, lush grass that grew around it. The grass the gardeners avoided. All the while drawing more and more attention to itself - that phone call from the real estate agent was inevitable... and then it came, prompting me to finally do something about it.

So, finally I did.
"Hello"
"Hi. Just wondering if you are interested in a 1989 Ford Telstar."
"Sure. OK. We can take it."
"Tonight?"
"No. Tomorrow"
"What time?"
"4 o'clock."
"How about 9am?"
"OK. 9am tomorrow. See you then."
"OK. Bye."

Of course, in that brief conversation with Mr. I'll tow-you-car-away-24-hours-a-day-for-free, I provided my details and without even discussing it, accepted that I'd be getting nothing for the scrap metal gracing my front yard.

It was no longer worth anything much to me anyway. It's only value was sentimental. Something money has nothing to do with.

I had been involved in an accident late 2007. And whilst the other party was at fault, (his insurance company even agreed on that), the car was declared a write off after I was told to take it to the nominated panel beater to be repaired.

The repairs never happened and after a drawn out ordeal with the other person's insurance company - which included a number of frustrating phone conversations and a lack of assistance, with a dash of 'we're in no hurry to help our non-members' attitude - I got my car back, (in even worse condition than when I'd dropped it off), and eventually received a cheque for what they considered a fair price. I accepted it with a 'that's better than nothing' attitude and the case was closed.

There was not much I could've purchased with the amount they gave me so C and I spent $30 at the wreckers to at least get her back on the road without drawing too much attention to herself.

I let her rego lapse in May, not realising the new laws that prevented you from being able to be a little lazy with paying that bill/renewal for that large amount of money that always seems to come at a bad time. So that was that. It was no longer worth fixing. So she sat and sat.... and sat....

..until Tuesday, at 9am, when she was towed away to the wreckers.

(to be continued)

11:51am, Friday 12 December, 2008.

I was going to create a new post to finish this entry but decided it should remain as one.

I had to rush off to work last night, leaving my entry unfinished. I had not intended for the blog post to consist of as many words but I sort of went off on some tangent. My initial inspiration for writing about this event/experience was the process of cleaning out the car; post tow. Of course, this too was a part of the whole emotional reaction to a material object - so despite preferring to consider myself as someone who has not completely surrendered to the material world, there are certain things and luxuries that I enjoy and, whilst I may sometimes take them for granted, appreciate. Having a car, in itself, regardless of make and model, is still a luxury as far as I am concerned. This is a fact that I am realising even more so now that I am without one.

My grandfathers car was nothing special - on the outside anyway. It was a humble Ford Telstar hatch. It was an automatic. Given a cheque and a choice, it would not have been my pick of vehicles. However - it was reliable, had done very little kilometeres and had been looked after in every way. Best of all, it was free.

When my grandfather, (who is now almost 90), became too old and impaired to drive a motor vehicle he was reluctant to get rid of it and it just so happened that my Toyota had given up around the same time - so when the car was offered to me, I gracefully, and gratefully accepted. It omitted a lot of hassles.

I took every effort to look after that car out of respect for my grandfather. He would always ask me how the car was whenever we spoke and come out to see it when I would go and visit. It was almost sad. The car was kind of symbolic of a child that had left home. My grandfather was always a family man.

I felt awful when I had to tell him of the accident and the eventual outcome. Granted, it could have all been a lot worse - and I am truly grateful no one was hurt - but it was still disappointing to have to explain that the car was 'broken'. (He suffers from dementia so I am expecting he might ask me how the car is again at some point.)

So then it became me who was reluctant to get rid of the vehicle - for different reasons - however, both were ultimately sentimental.

On the topic of sentimental, the experience of cleaning out the car was very much that. As well as filling a garbage bag with genuine rubbish - (my pride in the upkeep of the car began to dwindle after the accident - plus the backseat was full of pop corn and other random bits and pieces from beach trips with the kids) - there were also lots of other things that I discovered. Cleaning one's car, room, cupboard or house - even sometimes just one drawer - can be an exercise that triggers many memories of people, places and things - past and present. Amongst the random findings in my car were photos, and words, of and from old lovers and friends. Piles of invites from various past exhibitions of mine in Melbourne and Sydney. Unidentified objects that were more than likely bits that had fallen or broken off bigger objects no longer in the car. And in the front console, which consisted of a tray and a box, I found a mini solar powered calculator, a mini swiss army knife, a shoe horn and a compass - all had belonged to my grandfather and were obviously travel essentials in his mind. They made me smile - especially the shoe horn. My car had become a time capsule.

I think what made the experience a little more emotional was the fact that 2 days prior, I had a dream that my grandfather passed away. I woke up feeling extremely sad.

I threw a lot out and only kept a few things - including my grandfather braces. I'll probably never have a use for them, but I just couldn't throw them away.

Work in Progress

Life is a work in progress is it not?

Often as unpredictable as the next painting.

It's 7:48pm. I want to paint but know that I won't pick up a brush before tomorrow's sunrise. I have left it too late in the day to begin working in the studio. The moment of peak inspiration and maximum motivation has passed for this 24 hour period. Sad really.

It's already been too long.

The fact that it's 7:51pm should not matter. There are no excuses. Not even long hours working in another job is an excuse.

I am perhaps just all lacklustre.

There is a lot to do before we move in February, and whilst just the thought of that is exhausting, I am very much looking forward to a new space not only in which to paint, but also to live and begin a new chapter in this 'work in progress' known as life.

It will be nice to have an area exclusively for my art/painting. A space that need not be packed up or dismantled. One I can make a mess in and not have to worry about it. I believe that alone will enhance my motivation and feed my desire. It will also be interesting to see how a new space effects the subject matter, style or content of my work, or even the size.

Will I see myself closer to attaining that seemingly unachievable yet always desirable thing called 'balance'?

One can dream can't they? Or at least remain ever hopeful. Regardless of what they wish for.

Working Dog

This is the first Saturday night in quite some time that I have not had to work, (with the exception of the one about 5 weeks ago for my brothers birthday). I feel like I should be doing more than sitting here on the couch contemplating this blog entry, yet at the same time, I have not the energy to do anything but.

I really should be in bed - even though it is only 10:30pm... That's early for a Saturday night. My body wants to sleep but my head is rebelling - perhaps only due to the fact that it IS Saturday night and I am NOT at work.

There is some mindless show on the idiot box as C sleeps on the couch next to me on my right and the dog chews a plastic coat hanger on the floor to my left. I don't even know why I am choosing this moment to blog - when my mind is all a fuzz with tiredness and delirium. Perhaps it is only to introduce the new addition of the household into my blog world - that being the 'dog' I mentioned - who is all of 8 weeks old, therefore, technically a puppy. We discovered and purchased him last Monday. It was inevitable. As soon as we saw him we both just knew he was coming home with us - despite having discussed that we would hold off any new additions until we moved to our new abode in February.

So I suppose, seeing as I have not painted since I last blogged - I will dedicate this blog entry to our four legged friend that we named Obi.



I must say, it is nice to once again be a dog owner. It was awfully sad to have to say goodbye to my last two canine friends several years ago. I am remembering just how much joy they can bring into one's life.

I should sleep. These 6:30am starts, (work), are taking a little getting used to. Hopefully this coming week will see a little more order amongst the chaos and an opportunity to start my next body of work - for which I am now champing at the bit to get started on.

I will say one thing about working such long hours over the past couple of weeks - I have actually slept better than I have in over 12 months. That alone is worth something as I was really starting to feel the negative effects of sleep deprivation.

That said - I am hitting the hay.

Just...

So. I'd intended to enter blog zone tonight and write about some art related business - including a mention of an enjoyable meeting with two gallery directors last Friday and my delight in being able to use all those words in the one sentence.

I'd also intended to get my head into a book tonight as a prelude to an early night. (I am starting work at 6:30am tomorrow and have not been sleeping well of late). I've not read since we were in Japan... nor had I written much since my return; other than the few blog posts here and some run of the mill emails.

As the evening had it, I found myself in conversation with a friend and fellow artist that I'd not heard from in some time. The conversation prompted me to re-read something I wrote, ( kind of spur of the moment ), the other day... 13 days ago actually.

I don't always share my writing. Sometimes my words are like those little sketches that nobody ever needs to see but are vital to the creative process of making art. I'm choosing to post those words here tonight so that my friend will always know he is not alone.

I sit here
with a glass of red
perhaps for no other reason than
I am trying to remember
(or trying to forget)

what does one do
when one no longer knows themselves
or at least
is no longer familiar
with the person…
the being
that they inhabit?

I used to write a lot
almost every day

when did that stop?

when did I lose the ability
to say what I wanted to say
to express how I really feel
to just WRITE

I have hundreds of letters
that have been written
inside my head
but never made it to paper

words of love
and thanks
that have never made it
to those who deserve them

I used to write
as if
I was dancing like no one was watching
as if
I was singing with nobody listening

when did I become so concerned
with what other people ‘might’ think
when did i
lose the desire
to NOT CARE?

In losing the ability
to randomly ramble
with such carefree honesty
and passion
have I lost touch
with myself?

let me allow myself
to introduce myself
to myself

Hello.

I found an article
on Leonard Cohen
in the paper
last Saturday
it made me smile

as I read it
knowing that I had tickets
to see him
made me cry
but they were not
tears of sadness
but rather
ones of joy

I have waited quite some time for this
Mr. Cohen

sometimes
when I listen to music
it reminds me
of who I really am
it reminds me
that it is ok to feel
what I feel

it reminds me
of people
and places
and things I want to remember
yet often forget

of things
I want to forget
but need to remember
in order to remember
who I am

A Small Bite

I'm a little full of random thoughts lately as opposed to focusing in on any particular thing. Not that multi-tasking/function is rare, especially inside my head but I am possibly a little more scattered and sporadic than usual.

The delight for me is that despite being incredibly busy, I am still noticing little things like a sparrow desperately pecking at some fluorescent pink bubble gum that had been squished into the cement footpath. I curiously admired his persistence and determination as I carried two chai teas to meet C for a short break. I wondered what the attraction was to the gum. Was it the colour? The flavour? Or was the sparrow just into challenging itself? I thought for a minute - 'sweet tooth'? Then realised such an expression could not be used for a creature with no teeth. Sweet beak. My thoughts became a whole bunch of random nonsense but it was kind of nice. It even made me smile.

Even just now, as I poured myself a celebratory glass of red wine - (I got news of my first New York sale today) - I wondered to myself, do people still pour a standard size glass of wine when pouring for themselves at home? As insignificant as that this thought was it once again allowed me to be amused by my mind.

I automatically poured myself a standard glass.

I raise my glass today to Andrew Michael Ford in New York. He has been so wonderful to work with since inviting me to be part of In the Language of Angels and has restored a lot of faith that had recently been lost - not in me, but in others - and for that, I am very thankful.

No-Mo-vember

So it's November already.

I'm not writing a novel, nor am I growing a mo. In fact I'm not doing much other than working, unfortunately not as in 'making art'.

So with not much else to say I will end on 'happy birthday Ryan' and 'best of luck Obama'.

Hallelujah!

Just two weeks after writing this in my blog -

"There are two artists I would still love to see live, but doubt I will get the opportunity to. Seeing Patti on Saturday night almost makes up for this. I am speaking of the great Leonard Cohen, and the fabulous Mr. Tom Waits. All three of these wonderful artists have been a huge influence to me over the years. All three, in my opinion, have quite a way with words."

Leonard Cohen's 2009 Australian tour has been announced.

After a couple of hours of clicking I managed to find tickets.

Hallelujah!

Tickets and concert info can be found here and here.

Just a Few Notes...

I really don't have much to say at the moment. Not in blog form anyway.

The group show In the Language of Angels opened in New York on Friday night. Andrew sent me this link today of opening night photos.

I'm busy working two jobs and getting the first painting ready for this. Just something I thought I would try - for two reasons at least. One is in relation to my frustration with the majority of the commercial gallery world, and two, to encourage myself to be more dedicated to what is important to me - my art.

I also wanted to make mention that I managed to get to Melbourne last week to see Christine Polowyj's exhibition at Jackman Gallery last Thursday. It was a most impressive body of work and well worth the trip. I have been a bit of a fan of her work since I first saw it a few years ago on a collector's wall. Anyone who may stumble across this entry and be in Melbourne, it's on until Sunday 9 November.

Headfuckers and Helpful Humans

Why can't there be more of the latter...?

I am a little stunned, though not completely surprised, by the actions and mentality of a certain so-called superior. I even sat in front of a kids TV show this afternoon to try and get a grasp of such juvenile behaviour but the difference is... it's ok for kids to be juvenile, (albeit, to a degree) - it's their right. The other difference is - children are usually fairly innocent, while when adults act in such a way, (that has recently been displayed to me), it is just downright malicious and spiteful. Put simply, I have been lied to.

I really despise liars. Especially under these circumstances, and especially when the person looks at you, (though not in the eye), and tells you they are a straight shooter.

So in actual fact, I am not sure what I am more angry about. The fact that I have been lied to, or the fact that this person thinks I am stupid.

I'm not stupid.

So... on to the latter of this blog post title. Helpful Humans. A much nicer breed than Headfuckers.

The group show I am involved in, 'In the Language of Angels', opens in New York this Friday, 24 October.
Not only am I very pleased to be hanging with 5 very talented ladies: Sarah Joncas, Camilla D'Errico, Lisa Alisa, Mia and Mijn Schajte, but I am extremely grateful to Ad Hoc Art Director: Andrew Michael Ford.

a. For inviting me to be part of the 6 woman exhibition.
and
b. for being so incredibly efficient, helpful and professional from the word go.

The above mentioned qualities have often been hard to find in a number of others in the same profession. In this country anyway.

However - to mildly contradict that last line - (and there are some other exceptions) - I would also like to thank Mark Jamieson from Brunswick Street Gallery. Mark was an absolute delight to work with whilst preparing for my most recent exhibition which opened on October 10. His enthusiasm and professionalism came as a pleasant surprise and was most appreciated. I would also like to thank him for believing in the work enough to then offer to take it to Art Sydney, which opens tonight.

As for the Headfucker/s... perhaps the only positive is that I can perhaps paint out some of my frustration and possibly create something beautiful from something awful.

Linked In

I am inclined to wonder whether one day, the internet will be the only marketing tool needed. It indeed makes the world somewhat smaller and the things in it more accessible - at least to view.

I'd like to thank Andrew Michael Ford for this, Juxtapoz Magazine for this, and a fellow blogger - Tim - for this.

For anyone in the vicinity of New York - next Friday is the opening of 'In The Language of Angels' at Ad Hoc Art. I have 4 paintings in the exhibition - one is pictured above.

Musings

I'm not feeling too crash hot tonight. My stomach feels unsettled which is making me restless. However, I am at home, alone, with all the time in the world to do whatever I want and I don't feel like painting. I feel like writing... though my entry may be a little scattered due to the way I am feeling physically. Still... I will give it a shot.

I am still delighting over Saturday night. Patti Smith has dominated my thoughts over the past few days. She really was, (and IS), quite amazing. I only wish I had gone to see her on Sunday night when she performed a tribute to Allen Ginsberg, and also to her artist talk at CCP on Saturday, or her Q&A on Friday for Dream of Life. I am not sure what I would've asked, if anything. I possibly would've been all tongue tied and twisted and simply awestruck, but either way I would've liked to have witnessed both events and to have perhaps witnessed her in a more intimate environment - not that she did not make Hamer Hall as intimate as she could have on Saturday night when she performed in concert. At one point she walked through the audience in such a casual and comfortable way, receiving due respect from adoring fans, some who just wanted a hug - and got one. Her presence was most powerful, and in some way she seemed to bring everyone there that evening together, even if only for the briefest moment. At least that was my perception. I would actually be interested to hear the thoughts of anyone else who saw her on Saturday or Sunday evening.

Patti, Patti, Patti... I feel, (sound?), like a schoolgirl with a crush.

There are two artists I would still love to see live, but doubt I will get the opportunity to. Seeing Patti on Saturday night almost makes up for this. I am speaking of the great Leonard Cohen, and the fabulous Mr. Tom Waits. All three of these wonderful artists have been a huge influence to me over the years. All three, in my opinion, have quite a way with words.

"In art and dream may you proceed with abandon. In life may you proceed with balance and stealth". - Patti Smith

The Queen of Cool

Last night I was fortunate enough to have the opportunity to experience possibly one of the best live shows ever. Speaking for myself, I am inclined to say it was the best live show I have ever been to, and I have been to quite a few.

I am talking about the one and only Patti Smith. No two words could describe her performance better than fucking brilliant... and yes, the word fucking is necessary on this occasion, if for no other reason than to place huge emphasis on the brilliant part.

For many years I have been inspired by Ms. Smith, not just Patti Smith the Musician, but also Patti Smith the Poet, the Activist, the Artist... however, last night, I was blown away by all of them. I am now in awe of Patti Smith, the Woman... the Person. At 61 years of age, she is ageless as a performer and so incredibly powerful in her delivery of words in every shape and form.

I am sure, after seeing (and feeling) her live last night, she will - in many ways - be a huge influence on my next, (or a future), body of work.

Snapshots from Singapore

I am of very few words at the moment... so it is perhaps the perfect time to upload more snapshots... this time from Singapore. A place I very much enjoyed on the way to and from Japan.

Snapshots from Japan

Some of my favourite images from my recent trip. Surprisingly, yet thankfully, Japan still continues to fascinate and inspire me.

Slug...

I'm not doing a very good job at blogging regularly at the moment. I still have a selection of photos from my recent trip to Singapore and Japan that I've been contemplating posting... perhaps they'll appear some day.

A letter in the mail has inspired this brief post. My painting 'Food and Desire - Conflict I' has been selected to hang in the finalists exhibition of the Kilgour Art Prize (for portraiture), to be held in November this year at the Newcastle Region Art Gallery.

Home, _____ Home

We arrived home early Sunday morning after a sleepless overnight flight from Singapore. I must say, Singapore Airlines are now my preferred 'carrier'. We flew with them for all four flights of our trip and they were a delight to fly with. By far the most helpful, consistent, attentive and cleanest flight/airline service I have ever used.

We were fortunate enough to get bulk head/exit row seats for all four flights much to C's delight - his height and leg length are not usually economy class friendly but the staff were ever so helpful in making his flight, (and in turn, mine), more comfortable.

I was also lucky enough to stumble across a delightful foreign film that I might not have otherwise seen. It was so beautiful, in a sad yet poetic and joyful way. It was a German film titled Kirschblüten - Hanami, directed by Doris Dörrie. I watched it on my third flight of the trip. From Osaka to Singapore... and despite being extremely tired and having very heavy eyes, (it was my second film of the flight),I managed to keep my lids open and focus on the subtitles for the duration of the 127 minute work of art.

The film moved me to tears at times and the acting, in particular the characters Rudi and Trudi, played by Elmar Wepper and Hannelore Elsner, and also the delightful young Japanese character, Yu, played by Aya Irizuki. In my opinion the film was flawless and, despite being quite obscure and poetic in parts, in every way believable. Not only was the story quite sadly beautiful, but it was so aesthetically pleasing to watch, it was shot in such a wonderful and mood provoking way. I adored it.

I also adored Japan - yet again. It is truly a different experience visiting the place on holiday as opposed to living or being based there. The fact that most of our time in Japan was spent, by choice, in Kyoto helped also.

Kyoto, I can confidently say, is still one of my favourite places in the whole world. It did not disappoint me and it was wonderful to share the city and it's delights with C. It was his first visit to Japan and he certainly enjoyed it. I had a strong feeling I would return, not to mention an ongoing desire to do so, but I really did not believe it would be this soon after living in Osaka for 4 months last year. I am very grateful to have been able to do so and also grateful to Kyoto, for yet again inspiring me - just when I thought it may no longer be able to do so.

Home Sweet Second Home

Osaka, Japan. Here once again. I flew into Osaka early this morning, for the 5th time. The excitement did not really hit until we were flying over the hills and about to land. Then it hit me... I love this place more than I even realise.

I had been so excited about bringing C here... ( to the place that I loved so very much and had been such a powerful influence to me - especially creatively ), that I had forgotten to get excited for myself.

It is a strange feeling being back here. There has been a lot of things that have happened in my life recently that either happened here or possess some significance to the place. So much is familiar, yet there is still so much to discover and explore.

Within the first hour or so of being in the city, or more specifically, Shinsaibashi, I had managed to visit two of my favourite places here in Osaka. 1. Maman Kitchen - a humble little venue that makes some of the nicest macrobiotic delights I have ever tasted... and 2. Banco, a modest little cafe on the outskirts of America-mura, a great place to sit and enjoy a drink whilst watching the hoards of people pass by. Also managed a visit to `Dig Me Out`, a kind of too cool for school 24 hour cafe slash art gallery/venue. The place was introduced to me by my friend Chika, whom I met whilst living here last year. It is a shame I cannot catch up with her again this visit - but it is with good reason as she is now living in New York, painting and studying art.

I am blogging from the hotel lobby on their dell computer. I decided against bringing my laptop with me this trip. Amazing how much we depend on our electronic devices these days. I feel rushed on this public machine... hence I will most likely blog briefly whilst on holiday and then upload photos and perhaps recap on my return to Australia.

Japan. It is good to be back.

Singapore

Am currently in Singapore. We arrived late yesterday. It's hot. Humid. I'm sitting on a couch in a friend's apartment. I have things to write but do not wish to be rude in the eyes of my hosts spending too long online rambling about my day.

It's not the easiest city to navigate one's way around but we did manage to find the Singapore Art Museum and paid a visit to the Toy Museum which was more enjoyable than I had expected.

Then there's the food. SO much food.

It's my first time in Singapore. My previous 'Asian' travel has always seen me flying into Japan.

I like it here. The heat has taken a little to adjust to after coming from the Melbourne winter... but for some reason, the heat is more bearable when I am travelling... in some weird way it makes me feel more alive.

More to explore tomorrow.

A Stick In Time

It's funny how something so small made me so happy today.

This tiny little Kingston memory stick brought me much joy today. You see, I thought I had lost it. I had searched the house a few weeks back, emptying drawers and cupboards, without any luck and had given up, coming to the conclusion that it must've fallen out of my bag somewhere outside of the house.

Today, whilst perusing my bookshelf for a travelling companion of the written kind, I happened to find my Kingston hiding behind a book of short stories by Haruki Murakami. Kind of, (dare I say it) - 'symbolic', as my destination is Japan... (again).

It's amazing how much I rely on my trusty laptop and my memory stick. I had intended to copy all the contents of the stick to my laptop but 'lost' the stick before getting around to it. I was quite upset when I thought I had lost all my high res images of early artwork and other bits and pieces that I feel are important. Needless to say, when I found it today I copied the contents onto my laptop and also to an online library to ensure I need not have to worry about losing them again.

I have now packed my little Kingston along side my passport. It was a timely discovery.

Shaking Monkeys

I have fallen behind in the blog stakes. I have fallen behind with my art too. Well, at least with the production of it. Everything else seems to be moving at such a rapid pace I am having trouble keeping up with it all.

It's been over a month since I have written here. In fact, it has been over a month since I have written, (for me), at all. It has been a full month.

I've been in the process of shaking a few monkeys off my back recently. I even started seeing my psychologist again, whom I had not been to for around 3 years. I must say, the visits this time around are shorter and fewer and far between. I guess it's kind of a 'refresher course' on past progress and perhaps getting the final formula to rid some of these little primate parasites for good. I feel it's a step forward, not a step back.

The mind is a fascinating and powerful tool.

I find it funny too, how therapy can often make even more sense of my art, (to me). In other words, while reflecting on recent work during this time, it has become even clearer to me why I have been and am painting the way I am and the 'things' I am.

Speaking of painting. I have paintings going here and there at the moment and for the next few months and some interesting projects and collaborations are in the pipeworks.


‘Lullaby and Exile’ , (above), was selected as a finalist in the 2008 Corangamarah Art Prize. The exhibition will open on Saturday 9 August and will run until Sunday 17 August.

I've been communicating with a few different publications, national and international and am looking forward to the possibilty of pursuing some ideas that have been discussed. I would also like to thank Katie at Juxtapoz magazine for this.

I've also been invited to exhibit in a group exhibition in Brooklyn, New York with 5 other female artists at Ad Hoc Gallery. The exhibition, titled ‘In the Language of Angels’, will open on October 24. The other artists exhibiting are Camilla d'Errico, Sarah Joncas, Mijn Schatje, Lisa Alisa and Michelle "Mia" Araujo.

Autumn Haiku, the first piece painted after returning home from living in Japan last year, and the last piece in the 2007 series of Japanese works, will be hanging as part of a group exhibition at Brunswick Street Gallery from 15-28 August. I will also be having a solo exhibition at BSG in October.

I'm itching to get back into the studio and perhaps make friends with the last monkey on my back. I have many new ideas.

Perhaps symbollic of new beginnings, I recently cut my hair. For most, this may not sound like much, but I had not had mine cuts for many years and when it was, it was an inch trimmed here and there. The length of my hair was longer than that of my spine, but it was time for a change. I never knew just how much 'weight' was in that hair. It was an unexpected relief.

A Humble Thanks

I did a studio interview on the radio yesterday morning for the third year running.

I would just like to say a big thank you to Phil and Adelaine from ABC Radio Australia for their undying encouragement and for supporting what I do - i.e: my art. As many an artist will know, there are moments where we question what we are doing, despite the fact that we know we'd be miserable if we could not make art.

During those times of vacillation or even sometimes self doubt, it is the support of people like Phil and Adelaine that give you that good kick up the arse and remind you that it is, always has been, and always will be worth it.

Thank you.

Doing it For The Kids

For the 6th year in a row, I will be donating an original painting to the Artists for Kids Culture fundraising art auction.

This year the exhibition of donated works will be held at Brightspace from 3-7 September. Opening night will take place Tuesday 2nd September from 6-8pm.

The auction of all donated artworks will then be held at Ormond Hall, 557 St Kilda Road, Melbourne (enter via Moubray Street) on Wednesday 10th September 2008.
Doors open 5.30pm.

Time Flies - Or Does it?

It was on this day last year that I arrived home from Japan. In fact I think it was even this time on that day that my plane touched down in Melbourne.

As fast as the past 12 months have gone - Japan seems like a lifetime ago.