Me: So…are you working on anything new at the moment?
Studio mate: …Oh nothing much!
(bustles about in drawers)
…I just need to sort out the insects…
(produces bulging bag of insect husks, casings and wings)
…and then of course there’s the electronics.
Further to Women Laughing Alone With Salad I bring you: Women Who Shush.
Direct eye contact is a very powerful force. Think of the history of portraiture, photography, sculpture. Long before Michelangelo first experimented with shadow, the ancient Greek statues, with their empty stone Gorgon orbs, demanded to be noticed. It’s why every Year 9 art project features a human eye, fringed with long, globby acrylic paint lashes. It’s why Luis Buñuel’s famous eye scalpel shot still makes us wince, 80 years later. Continue reading
For years I lived in Brunswick in a dark, narrow terrace with a concrete backyard and a back view to a cobblestone laneway. When my writing business launched I didn’t have much work, so I used to take a long walk every morning and night around Brunswick’s back door.
I took a Lomo camera to document my ambles and tried to cover a different route every day. Whether it was humid or drizzling, peeking at people on their way to the pools at sunrise, or at 3am with a colour flash, I’d be out and about, sticking my nose into other people’s business.
The Eco Lodge was built on the slopes of Bali’s second highest mountain. It was run by a pair of peaceful hippies who wanted people to share in the joys of fruit and veggies picked fresh from their food forest, cold, clear water trickling through a ferny waterhole, and the calm of a tiny mountainside community in Bali.
We’d decamped to read, drift and eat. My mother had passed away only six months’ prior, and on a scale of demented and sad, I was an 11. I desperately needed rest from the voices in my head, from the city rubbish trucks, and from the pressing feeling of sadness in my chest and my bones.
I needed calm, stillness, silence. Continue reading