Artists Blog

I’m so lucky to be living where I do. In our last home we had “delightful” children living behind us that hurled rocks into our pool. Surburbia at it’s most uninspiring.

Living here, I sometimes take the bush for granted, and forget that a whole other world exists beyond the wooden palings. This morning a tiny movement caught my eye. Can you see it?

Moving through the dappled sunlight two brand new babies moved with their mum and dad.

During the day these Bush Stone Curlews (or Thick Knees) are usually very, very   q-u-i-e-t.   At night it’s totally another matter. They are screaming, wailing banshees, with blood curdling cries of ear drum piercing proportions.

Those great golden eyes don’t miss much. Spot one of the chicks?

Just gorgeous! And they don’t throw rocks.

Since moving into our new home 10 months ago, we haven’t had much spare time to devote to the garden. Normally a Perth spring would see me going wild at the Garden Nursery, bringing home punnets of seedlings by the barrow load.

Today I made my inaugural visit to a new nursery in the area, with the intention only to buy sphagnum moss for epiphytic orchids my greenthumb neighbour kindly gave me. However, I was a lost cause once I spied the shiny oh-so colourful images on all the enticing labels. The Promise of armfuls of fragrant blooms filled my head, and then my shopping trolley. 

Now the garden beds are not quite so bare. We will have stands of tall swaying lilac salvias, drifts of deep purple petunias, carpets of double impatiens,… fingers crossed!

We’ve been invaded by birds. Lots and lots and LOTS of birds! Spring has sprung big time.

My first birds for Show and Tell are the ones that just made it (with 18 minutes to spare) into the preliminary judging for the upcoming Regional Exhibition. They may not make the final cut, but here’s hoping for a spot in my second exhibiton.

I’ll always have the Clowns in my backyard regardless.

The Butcher bird (also known as The Singing Assassin), has been singing his heart out to me, inviting me to swing. Take that however you wish!

This guy is a teenager, but there’s been an adult (fully black) hanging around as well.

Parent or potential partner?

The Pied Imperial Pigeons  (or Torres Strait Pigeon) have flown all the way back from New Guinea. They have been “Coo-Cooing” their heads off above our deck.

But the most delightful feathered tenants have been the Wee Willy Wagtails, chittering their crossness at me for daring to watch them build their nest.

Who needs a big house anyway?

It’s been a while since my post - so much happening it’s like someone has cranked up the speed on the merry go round!

The final night of the “BIG exhibition” was last Friday, with the top 10 artworks (in terms of bids), going to a final  live floor auction. I held little hope of making it out of the 120 established artists exhibiting. It was expected of course that the famous names, Archibald winners etc would make up the 10. This was the last few minutes before the deadline that people could still silently bid.

I was nervous, sweaty palmed and rather anxious. I told Jeff that I didn’t want to be in the live auction - how embarrassing if no one bid on my work? I looked over to my piece and saw someone on their mobile, staring right at my work. They took a pen out and wrote in a new bid. Phone bids? I was shocked. Then someone else came over and upped the bid. Shock was replaced with open mouthed disbelief.

Jeff and I were volunteers on the night to hold The Ribbon. Once the bell is rung, a ribbon goes up across the works on the wall so no more bids can be placed. In past years, this was the time when people would try and sneak in bids in an effort to get their chosen piece. Sometimes fisticuffs were involved I was told. All quite civilised tonight.

Then I was told that I had made the top 10. I was horrified. I could hardly think straight whilst other peices were auctioned. When it was my turn I wanted to leave. What if it was passed in at the final silent bid price? The embarrassment would swallow me whole.

I couldn’t believe it when there was one bid, then another, and another…. was this really for my work? (can you tell I was having a hard time believing any of this?) I would’ve taken photos of the lively auctioneer, with hammer banging down so decisively, except I was rooted to the spot with fear.

Anyway, my first piece sold ever, 20+ years after I was supposed to go to Art College to train to be an artist. Better late than never ever ever.

The biggest thrill for me was to have my work cheek-by-jowl with the big names of the art world from the past 50 years. All of us on the same auction table.

Pressure’s on now. A commission for someone and other exhibitions soon. This is where I would have traditionally run away screaming. I’ve a different mindset now.

A big exhibtion at the Regional Gallery is on next month. Closing date for entries was yesterday. I made it with 18 minutes to spare, thanks to 3 am finishes on the weekend.

Sooo, what else has been happening apart from my art dramas?

“Spring” (30 degrees C), has meant that all manner of critters are out and about. Finally caught the backyard bandicoot bandit on camera. Big bugger too. Our backyard is filled with bandicoot potholes. They dig cone shaped holes through the lawn to catch cane beetles. This one likes to dig up pebbles. Beside each massive crater is a smooth round pebble or pile of pebbles. He’s OCD for sure.

They are riddled with ticks (especially the deadly Paralysis Tick),  so don’t let them in the house.

(I’m looking out the window at the moment and the scrub hens have wandered in, helping themselves to my garden, scratching up anything in their way. Typing quietly here…..)

I took a shortcut through Uni the other day, through the bush and dry creek bed that was a raging torrent just 6 short months ago.

Someone had created a lovely sculpture made from the riverbed pebbles.

The stones had such beautiful patterns carved by years of rushing water. Soon enough they will be covered again for another Wet Season.

There was a huge vine snaking it’s way across the creek. I immediately thought of the snake warning in the news. They are out and about and on the move.I followed the vine up the bank where it twisted itself into pretzel shaped knots.

So much more to do, I’m really looking forward to Uni finishing so that I can catch my breath.

Tomorrow is my 6 minute speech /reading - simply terrifying!

Nothing like a Lace Monitor on the BBQ to get your heart rate up first thing in the morning.

Nothing like a sunny BBQ to get your heart rate up in the morning if you’re a Lace Monitor.

He got a bit huffy  when I ventured close, puffing his neck up and “Haruumffing” me. Two metres of grumpy lizard is not pleasant.

Had my Great Debate at Uni today, not as bad as I thought. Thanks for all your hints and tips everybody. Next week is the 6 minute speech. Can’t wait.

I’ve dug up another moonset photo from May. Back then the moon set in the early evening, behind the same mountain in my previous post.

This afternoon I had quite an inspiring (and looong) phone conversation with gorgeous Rosa Fedele, a friend since school days. She’s a full time artist and has a really no nonsense approach which I need to take heed of. I don’t think proscrasination is even in her vocabulary. Damn she’s good! - Her website link is on the right hand side of my blog as well as here.

Day off tomorrow so I’ll try my hardest to really make some headway with all these paintings I have in my head.

Wasn’t it bright last night? (For those of you lucky to have cloudless skies).

Too impossibly bright to sleep deeply, I thought I’d go into the garden to take some shots. The moon was about to set, and I positioned myself in a spot that wouldn’t arouse too much suspicion. A camera shutter going off outside your bedroom window is an unusual wake up alarm. Luckily our neighbour is in Machu Picchu at the moment.

It’s surprising how quick the moon dipped behind the mountain. Not quick enough to avoid the mozzies however. Shutter and slapping sounds echoing in the street.

Then the battery pack died. The moon was really hauling it’s behind, so I thought I’d never get into the house, fumble for the new battery pack, and get back outside before it set. With my sarong falling down, cursing as I ran over the pebbles in bare feet, I hightailed it in and out in less than a minute.

Just in time to see it dip down into the darkness. The golden glow it left behind was just so beautiful. Not enough light to show up in an image though, you’ll have to picture it’s gorgeousness in your mind.

There was a happy trade off,

Following another early riser travelling in the sky.

The Man has recently come back from the Land of the Long White Cloud, where six is sux, and sheep are plentiful.

It was bitterly cold, but the natives don’t seem to mind.

Another weekend laid to rest - had great plans to get lots accomplished, but a head that was exploding by Saturday afternoon put paid to that.

I did get to the Arts society meeting Sat morning, and a couple of galleries, but that was about it. Listened to two great talks - one by a photographer friend, on how to take “proper” photos of your artwork for submissions to galleries/competitions (eg: getting rid of ”barrel” effect). The other talk was by a very inspirational fellow - came to art late in life at 42, and is doing incredible things now. He spends 4 months in NZ, and the rest of the year in Cairns living out his dream. What a life!

Both of these people are “older’, (but not by much!), and are now following their passions, after doing the corporate gig thing for a long time.

The moral of the story?

It’s NEVER ever too late.

Not much time to post - off to town in a minute. Always in a rush aren’t I?

I’ve made a start on my canvas for my second ever acrylic work. The colour chose itself.

Don’t know if I’ll finish by the deadline, but at least I can tell myself I did put down some paint.

I still have the Impasto Oil painting to finish by next friday. Think of chunky thick brushstokes (impasto), put down alla prima (all in one layer). Much harder than it looks Mr Van Gogh!

Off to an exhibition opening at the Regional Gallery tonight. It’s by a woman who is very well known in art circles, although I’m not familiar with her style. My lecturer has suggested I speak with this woman regarding my direction. It was all very out of the blue, but recenly I’ve been getting together with emerging artists, and there are some common dilemmas between us, regardless of our artistic style or medium.

Lots to think about.

I was thinking about what Elizabeth said in her last comment on my previous post. Is Mundane perhaps only a state of mind? Change the parameters of my day and maybe Mundane disappears.

I think this semester at Uni has thrown Mundane-ness at me.  I’ve been dreading some of the tasks set for my Effective Speaking subject (a required core subject and not one that I would have chosen freely), and this has flowed over into everday life. A public speaker I am not, and this subject is forcing me to put myself into some very uncomfortable situations, both in front of an audience and on paper. A good thing perhaps if I look at it from a “Stretching the Comfort Zone” point of view. Still loathsome though.

Watching a very shy, hardly seen, visitor tip-toeing with giant orange feet into my backyard made me rethink my “mundane” day. Very privileged is how I felt.

Assessing the doorway between The Wild and Civilisation. Camera lense fogged up straight away, although the humidity has been much more bearable today.

“Why is it called the Orange Footed Scrub Hen” Jeff asked me facetiously.

Up until a couple of months ago I had no idea what was making the manical raucous cackles at night. All night. Imagine a turkey being strangled whilst singing an aria, and all of it’s friends joining in with the chorus. That’s what these wild “chickens” do to while away the dark hours.

This bird is one of a pair that have decided that something good is going on in my backyard.

Old Cocky ain’t happy having to share.

Gotta go, I can see  both of them now coming in for one last look around before the Opera begins..

It’s been overcast, drizzly and HOT. Steamy like a Costa Rican jungle. Not that I’ve ever been in a Costa Rican jungle, but I almost feel as if I need a machete to cut through the air, it’s so thick.

My Mountain is in there somewhere….

Uni today was using cameras in different ways. I’ve used my telephoto lens as a macro lens for these  luscious red berries. Like bunches of miniature pomegranates.

“Spring” in the tropics has unleashed all manner of triffid-like growth with berries and blooms.

My lecturer told me today that he saw my photo in the weekend newspaper - all news to me as I didn’t bother with the papers this weekend. I did hunt a copy down this afternoon.

The competition has now closed, and judging begins. No cash prizes, but a chance to have your work printed in some limited edition posters.

Back now to the drudgery of homework…..