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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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
I have been very lazy when it comes to art via cyber space.
It has taken me quite some time but I finally have my website up and running.
Yesterday I took part in a rather interesting event.
I was asked to participate in this event, along with 5 other artists, at Aitken Hill Conference Centre, working with 60 corporate clients from Telstra Super Fund. The event was organised by Lord Ivy.
The day involved setting up a room with 60 easels, each with a blank canvas, a palette, water, brushes, and 4 tubes of acrylic paint (blue, yellow, red and white).Only the organisers, (corporate), and the artists knew what was taking place, the other 50+ corporate people had absolutely no idea what their special 'activity' was going to be.
It was our job to encourage them to think outside the square and motivate them to paint for around 2.5 hours without touching their work at all in any way.
I admit I was a little sceptical about the whole thing prior to doing it, as were the group of corporates that appeared in a herd from over the hill we were situated at the base of. As they read the sign that explained briefly what was about to take place there was a lot of head and eye rolling and other displays of negative body language, along with some cynical mutterings.
I then saw it as a challenge and was inspired to inspire.
Despite one or two very negative and cynical attitudes once we were up and running, I actually quite enjoyed the experience much more than I thought I would. I once pondered studying psychology, particularly in relation to art,(or so called 'art therapy'), and the exercise yesterday reminded me of why.
I was very fortunate to have some really great and very co operative people amongst my allocated group - they certainly made the afternoon all the more enjoyable for me.
It was really interesting not only watching peoples initial reaction to the idea of painting, but how they approached the process. Some took a long time to make that first mark, not all necessarily through reluctance, some through fear. Others jumped straight into the exercise, one even opting to apply the paint with his fingers as opposed to the brushes that had been provided. I also managed to get a few of them applying paint with paper towel, paper bags and the other end of the brush. I certainly warmed to the ones who seemed to really embrace thinking outside the square.
Of course, I would rather have spent the day applying paint to my own canvas but it was quite gratifying and lovely when a number of them came up and thanked me for making their experience more enjoyable.
I happened to stumble upon a program on SBS last night whilst enjoying a lazy night at home. It was a documentary about Geisha: in particular, a young girl called Kikuyu, who was studying to become a Maiko, and eventually a Geisha (or Geiko). It reminded me of why I fell in love with Japan to begin with and in particular, Kyoto. It also reminded me of my first exhibition at Jackman Gallery in 2003, where the theme of my work was Geisha.
Just today I found a few old photos of some of the pieces from that Geisha series.
Although my recent work has moved on from the Japanese theme that dominated my work for around 5 years, I must say that watching the program last night re ignited some Eastern influences. I don't think I will be featuring the painted ladies in my work again just yet but I will say that for the first time since returning from Japan last June I had an overwhelming desire to return there. Despite seeing another side of Japan, other than the glamorised one, whilst living there - and experiencing moments where I struggled to find beauty, it seems Japan and I may have unfinished business.
Maybe one day.
I have not painted since my exhibition opened last Wednesday evening. Actually I tell a lie, two days ago I put a base coat of colour down on two canvases that I will be painting for an upcoming group show. I find I often have a little emotional and creative battle with myself just after an opening. In some ways it is almost like I am rebelling. I still want to and feel the need to paint but there is a part of me that refuses to. The part that wants to read a book and watch a movie... and sleep in... and do all the things I don't get around to doing when I am working to a deadline. Another of those things is eating. I have never been shy about having a healthy appetite. I love food. It was one of the first things my partner noticed and enjoyed about me, perhaps partly because he is a chef.
The rather unfortunate thing at the moment however is that my appetite is almost non existent. Since being sick a few weeks ago I have just not regained my full appetite or general sense of well being. My stomach and my head are refusing to work in unison at the moment.
My canvases are accepting the subject of food a lot easier than my body at the moment. I must say, despite being a little pressured time wise whilst producing the work for my exhibition, I thoroughly enjoyed exploring the subject of food and desire, combined with my dual existence. It is a subject I feel I will continue to explore for the time being. Far too many ideas did not find their way on to canvas in time for this show.
So why paint thy self?
Does it need justifying, or am I, in some bizarre way, trying to justify it to myself?
I quickly added this to a statement the other day...
The self-portrait is something most, if not all, artists explore at some point in their artistic career. It is a figure an artist can paint without worrying about offending the subject/model in any way. An artist can paint himself or herself however they like or however they see themselves, after all, we know ‘ourselves’ better than anyone else. There is perhaps a sense of more freedom and less worry of criticism when one paints a self-portrait – though there are ALWAYS critics – we ourselves are our own worst.
Another reason for this exhibition consisting of only self-portraits is the story I wanted to tell. The story of my battle of wills – the artist vs. the waitress as mentioned in a previous statement.
Since returning from living in Japan in June of 2007, I have lived away from the city, therefore away from my family and circle of friends, away from the social and cultural activities that enticed and inspired me before I left. I have not really had much interaction with anyone other than my partner, and the people I work with – leaving less opportunity to meet potential models and inspirational figures. I often work long hours in hospitality so my life has consisted of waiting and painting and not much else in between so it seemed inevitable that I should produce this body of work on exhibition aptly titled – ‘Food and Desire’.
Opening nights are a strange affair.
I used to think they were kind of exciting and basked in the social aspect of it all. These days, I feel very differently about the whole parade. If I had a choice this year I probably would've opted to not attend my own. Perhaps I have become more dedicated to and passionate about what I do that I only want to share what I do not who I am... as contradictory as that sounds - for I AM my art and my art is me. I suppose my body of work in this show narrates the most 'complete' story of any body of work I have ever produced.
It is me on the wall so do I NEED to be present while the works are on show?
My mind always races after the opening of an exhibition. I guess my thoughts shift from being so focused on producing the work before the show then all of a sudden I'm exposing what has been such a private and intense creative process and relationship with whoever walks into the gallery. There is perhaps a sense of security whilst my works are with me in the studio and I am constantly working on them and living with them... then the dynamic changes completely. They are no longer in the safe secure environment of 'my space' - they are out in the big world... like children leaving home. That may sound a little dramatic but I seem to be on a rambling roll at the moment so will continue... unedited. I mentioned to my partner the other day that my paintings are like my children. I am not a biological parent of a human being - my partner has two beautiful boys, whom I adore, but I will never give birth to a child of my own. I give birth to my paintings. It may be a difficult analogy for some people to grasp but it makes sense to me. The bizarre thing is I actually see similarities in my partners relationship with his children and my relationship with my art.
For the first time in six years I felt vulnerable at my own exhibition opening. I felt more naked than the figures in my work. I was not comfortable there. I am comfortable in my studio. Such a difference to the me of six years ago when I had my first exhibition at that particular gallery.To the me who used to manage a high profile gallery and organise such events with flair and flamboyancy.
Back then, the whole event was about a lot of different things. For me now though, it is about the art and ONLY the art.
Ironically, I have been sick since my last entry. I spent Anzac day horizontal, paying my respects from the couch. I did not eat for a couple of days. The timing was not good, but there never really is a good time to be unwell - not for anyone.
I delivered my paintings to the gallery today and stayed for the hanging. The paintings always seem to take on a new life, or light, when they are hanging all together on a pristine white gallery wall. I felt pleased with what I had produced but was looking forward to a night away from the works and being able to walk in there tomorrow night with somewhat fresh eyes.
The feeling of seeing them on a gallery wall is so completely different to viewing them at home or in the studio. There is a feeling of vulnerability once they are out there and exposed for people to see - and no doubt judge - we are all critics of some kind.
I am debating whether or not I want to place some text on view about the works. A kind of 'guide' to the paintings on exhibit. Normally I like to leave my art very open to individual interpretation, even though I may have a definite message or story within or behind the piece. I don't like to tell people what they should see - I don't wish to force my work on anyone. If someone likes it, that's great - without sounding blase about it, for admittedly it is always nice when somebody likes or appreciates your work.
I guess the fact that these works are just so personal, I would not like to think they would be misinterpreted. Then again, anyone likely to misinterpret them would probably not be interested in the story behind them anyway. Should I really be that concerned?
I need a good nights sleep.
I must say, one thing that suffers, (other than my partner), when I am 'in the zone' : painting or preparing for an exhibition, is my diet.
As a general rule, I try to eat fairly healthy, opting for organic produce when I can get it. I don't eat meat, other than fish, and my diet usually consists of a good balance of fresh vegetables, grains, legumes and fish. Over the past few months however, my diet has been quite poor despite my passion for good food.
I sometimes forget to eat when I am painting. I get so involved with what I am doing that in a sense, my art feeds me - or at least suppresses my hunger. Often too, even when I am hungry, I find I do not want to stop the momentum or interrupt any creative roll I may be on to prepare food so I either skip meals or eat something quick and easy - and often not too nutritious.
This habit or lifestyle doesn't seem to present too many problems short term, but the longer it goes on the more I feel it having a negative effect and denying me the sustenance I ultimately need.
I guess it all comes back to the whole 'balance' thing that I speak of so often... something I am STILL striving for?
Today I feel a little 'painted out'. I feel slightly claustrophobic. Stir crazy. I have made an attempt to paint all day but have found myself literally pulling at the neck of my t-shirt every few minutes. I was finding it very hard to focus let alone be disciplined.
Perhaps part of being disciplined is knowing when to stop, or at least have a break.
I think one can look at one's own work for far too long that distance is then needed for it to be appreciated again.
Being an artist is often very much a solitary sort of existence. I have had to try and explain to a number of friends as to why I cannot see them until the end of the month... or even have lengthy phone calls. To many this may sound rather strange or perhaps even selfish, however, I know those who truly know me do understand. If not now, they will after the show. One of my dear friends recently sent me a lovely text, after I briefly explained it to her via SMS (how times have changed), the last line meant the most to me, it read - 'Just keep painting, your people will still be there when you are done'.
Right now though, I feel the need to get out. Be outside.
I am going out! Even if it is only for a chai tea.
I missed Japan a little last night... not to the point where I wanted to be there but enough to cook myself a bowl of ramen noodles with tofu and flick though some photos.
This time last year I was going through my post-opening comedown and preparing to go back to Japan... uncertain of how long I would be staying there.
A lot can happen in a year... and a lot has... but I am not complaining.
Today I painted all day.
This time last year I was 'living' in Japan but was back in Melbourne for my exhibition at Jackman Gallery.
How time flies.
It is almost 'showtime' again and as it gets nearer I am thinking...
...deadlines are exhausting!
I took some time out from painting on the weekend and went to Ballarat with my partner and his two boys. A dear friend of mine had invited me to her partner's, (Ted May), exhibition at Ballarat Fine Art Gallery.
It has been a while since I have been to any sort of art event or exhibition opening. I think the last opening I went to was my own in April last year. A lot has changed since my days as gallery manager at Metro 5 Gallery, where it was a job requirement to schmooze at such events inside and outside of the gallery. I did get caught up in it all for a little while but I must say I prefer things a little more low key now.
There were a number of faces I recognised from those days whilst enjoying Ted's work on Saturday, and a number of them recognised me. One comment I loved was made by someone who did not recognise me at first glance and when his partner pointed me out he made a remark that suggested one of the reasons he did not recognise me was because I was not dressed as dashingly as I was when in that position. He did not quite know how to word it, possibly worried his words might be taken in offence, but I understood what he meant and I certainly did not see it as a criticism. In fact I felt more comfortable in my trusty cargo pants and plain black t-shirt than I would have in my white tuxedo.
This is not to say I don't like to get dressed up on occasion, but it is for different reasons now. When it comes to these sort of events, I am happy to dress down and blend in. I don't want to stand out. Art events are about the art on the walls, not a fashion show - and when it comes to my exhibition, I'd rather people notice my work than me or what I am wearing.
I have just questioned my subconscious - for perhaps this is the reason I am not wearing anything in my paintings. It's not about exhibitionism... it's more about a no frills type of rawness.
It makes sense to me anyway...
Finally I have finished the next piece in the new series. I feel exhausted after hunching over my canvas for the past few days and squinting whilst doing all the fine brushwork.
I am feeling happy about my work though so it makes this exhausted feeling worth it.
It is nearly time for a shift carrying plates... how fitting - this piece says it all.
This current body of work is possibly the most personal and intimate that I have ever produced. So personal that I feel it will be somewhat of a risk to show it - or should I say exhibit it in a commercial gallery sense.
All works thus far in this series are self portraits - a subject I have had numerous debates about regarding mine and others. I am an artist who will happily promote this subject, and when needed, defend it... and my reasons are not as egotistic as some may think. Having said that, I don't know an artist without an ego - then again, I don't know many people, artists or not, who do not possess at least something that resembles one. It's not a dirty word.
This body of work is also the most articulate work I have done for a long time. I feel like I have been working on this current piece forever. I have spent the past few days working on it and I still feel like I have so much more to do before it is complete.
It will be interesting to see how this work is perceived. I could worry about what others will think of the work and whether they will understand my reasons for painting this series but I am choosing not to. For far too long I have let things like this worry me far too much.
Worry less - Paint more.
It's always such gratifying feeling to complete a piece AND be happily satisfied with it.
My new work is really making so much sense to me. I feel I am beginning to make up for lost time. For the first time in ages I feel so connected to, involved in, and excited by the work I am doing and it's a fucking great feeling.
Due to poor light...
Being in the hospitality industry, as I am at present, I work most nights, therefore it is quite rare for me to have the opportunity to paint at night, such as tonight. This being the case I have never really worried too much about lighting in the house/studio as not only do I prefer to paint in natural light, but it, (daytime), was really the only time I had the opportunity to paint.
Now that I am spending less time carrying plates and more time pushing paint I am going to have to look into purchasing some kind of artificial lighting - perhaps some that simulates natural light - to allow me to paint well into the coming evenings.
My eyes began to feel rather strained tonight so I had to stop. I feel a little anxious about stopping tonight as the piece I have worked on meticulously all day, (and not just today), is finally so close to completion.
My partner has watched me painting this piece (and a sister piece) for the past week or so and made a comment earlier today about the hours upon hours that can be spent on each piece without any real evidence of progress to the average eye. He is so right. However, finally, late this afternoon - the progress became visible.
I am finally feeling excited about and interested in my work again after a long lull. It's a good feeling.
Food and desire...
The battle between necessity and passion – one feeding the other and the frustration along the way. Where would I rather be? What would I rather be doing. Exploring the idea or notion… fighting to create… the painting waitress – the waitress who paints – the painter who waits…. Waits to create… waits to paint.
Exploring my world… the means in which I need to meet to paint… as well as the NEED to paint. Waitressing to support my art. Also exploring the mysteries or other persona of the waitress… such a personal yet non attached job… an intimate yet generic job or role. Serving an audience. What does a waitress do when she is not waiting? More than just a waitress… the notion that she could be anyone or anything outside of her waiting job. Many musicians, actresses and artists have done it. Often it’s a way to make ends meet whilst waiting for a break or recognition or respect in their chosen field of the arts…. Waiting to be noticed? People have no idea of what else you can do other than carry multiple plates and pour champagne with one hand behind our back and a smile on our face… “she’s just a waitress” – oh no she is not – she is so much more…. Wanting to sometimes scream out loud… to paint the walls…. The disrespect from some… the demands to be ‘served’…. We offer a service but not our dignity. What makes you better than me? Then there’s the tippers…. Most are genuine – a few are sometimes patronising… ‘here – take my money, I have too much and you look like you could use some, after all, you’re just a waitress.’ There is a certain mystery to waitresses and waiters… its like role play… we ARE actors… we are not always happy to see the customer – sometimes we’d rather be doing something else…. I know most of the time I’d rather be painting, though there is somewhat of a fondness for the job, the people and for the role play – I guess ultimately I could be who ever I want to be, what would anyone know?… but all I want to be is an artist…. I AM an artist. An artist who waits.
There is also the personal and sensual element to food and taste… the quality, presentation and service can contribute to making someone’s night, or day, special… memorable…
Some remember you some forget…. the same goes the other way. Some want to know more about you, others pretend they already know and some couldn’t even remember which one of us took the drink order. Some are understanding some just demanding… some want all your attention some want hardly any… you learn a lot about people… but what do people learn about the waitress?
A battle of wills
A conflict of interest.
A slave to the wage.
It takes two
Waiting to paint
Plate or palette
Serve it up
My heart on a plate (I wear my heart on my plate/palette)
Serving up my soul
Dish
Culinary studio
Culinary culture
Taking orders
Passive aggressive
Versus
Me and myself versus I
Pushing to paint
What’s on the plate
Carving up the canvas
A recipe for dreaming
Place your order (here)
First course / Entrée
Main course
Just desserts
Time waits for noone
I am struggling with the heat today.
Sometimes I find I have more energy on hot days - but today I am finding the heat oppressive. It is affecting my work and my time in the studio. It is battling with my creative productivity and it is winning today. As I tried to stitch into my canvas I felt like my hands were melting.
I sat on the couch to eat lunch and ended up falling asleep. When I awoke it took me some time to drag myself off the couch and back into the studio. I attempted again to work on a canvas but found myself back on the couch.
I don't even think it is actually that hot today, but for some reason I am feeling it to its full intensity and it is causing me to feel incredibly lethargic. Admittedly I have not had a great nights sleep in some time, and I have never professed to being a Summer or hot weather person but this feels somewhat extreme for me... and apparently the coming week is going to be even warmer.
It's a waste of time feeling like this. I am going to go to Bunnings and buy a fan tomorrow.
I picked up my twelve custom made canvases yesterday and whilst I was at my suppliers, ordered a couple of larger ones.
It is always as daunting as it is exciting when I get new canvas to paint and create on. After all these years I am still somewhat intimidated by the blank surface - pristine and white - daring me to make a mark... MY mark.
My head has been spinning a little in the studio today. I am jumping from one piece to another, whilst contemplating a brand new one. I feel a great lack of discipline today but also a resurgence of inspiration and motivation - so it's not all bad.
I was just about to head off to bed when I saw a story on the late news.
I cannot even begin to write about how happy this story has made me and has given back a little of the faith I seem to be rapidly losing in and for the Australian art world.
I have admired the work of Del Kathryn Barton for a few years now and whilst I am not a big fan of, or advocate for, art awards - despite having helped to create one during my time in arts management - I was pleased to hear of this result.
I will sleep easier tonight.
I did not paint or draw at all today - but I did have the best birthday ever. It was definitely one to remember.
Thank you C.
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 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.
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