Artists Blog

Watercolour study of Dysphania fenestrata  (ACEO size 2.5 x 3.5 inches)

One thing I miss about FNQ are the flamboyant, even gawdy, butterflies and moths that are everywhere. The Four o’Clock Moth was one of my favourites. Named as it usually appears late afternoon, it is one of the very few FNQ moths that flies during daylight hours.

This fellow was in no hurry to leave me - he just didn’t fly anywhere, even though his wings seemed in perfect shape.. He just hung around for days, so in the end I fed him nectar from a little dish which he sucked up with gusto.

The colouring of this moth is just awesome. Tiny scales shimmering and glittering in the late afternoon light kept me fascinated for ages - what do they say about shiny things and small minds….

His wings are translucent in the white patches - letting subdued sunlight shine through onto the leaf below. Just gorgeous!

I think I’ve written about this little guy before on the old blog. I did manage to grab screen shots from the old Bigblog before it was turned off - when I have time I’ll process them all and upload them retrospectively. Could be a long wait - there was a LOT of blogging back then!

The feathers in my last post were kindly provided by the extended kookaburra family who lived in our backyard and beyond. With the arrival of Baby Kookie, the parents and Uncle/Auntie were hard pressed to keep the hungry beak filled. When we were in the garden digging, they were always by our shoulder hoping for big juicy rhino beetle grubs (about the size of your index finger) to be unearthed.

In fact any grub would do in a pinch. Here’s Dad with a small grub for afternoon tea.

Baby Kookie has seen it and has gone into feeding frenzy mode. Nothing will get between him and food.

He has the worse table manners I have seen (apart from the pythons!). He almost swallows his parents’ beaks whole trying to get dinner down. Unfortunately I wasn’t quick enough with the camera to catch the “snatch & swallow” moment, but his dad shook his head afterwards if that means anything!

Have you seen a cheekier bird? Check out the direct look at me, asking if there’s any more on the menu?

Got to admit he’s a cutie though….

Up until now I haven’t givent the full account of the Python vs Cockatoo sagas, as I was under obligation to the media. Diane from Adventure before Dementia has had a slithery visitor recently and wanted to know where the story was. So here is possibly the longest python post in the world….

Tropical North Queensland is a hotbed of prolific wildlife activity. Both day and night we witnessed the most incredible scenes right in our backyard. My home backed onto Deep Creek (where a very old salty lived), and out front Dead Man’s Gully (I assumed someone met the salty, judging from the name of this creek). Lots of water, constant temp & humidity and remnant rainforest are the favoured habitat of wildlife around here. Humans are merely visitors in this landscape.

Our house was surrounded by fruiting rainforest trees which brought the cockatoos (cockies) by day and bats by night. Unfortunately Beak and Feather Disease is rampant amongst the older birds, resulting in the slow loss of flight capability. A pair of “dodgy” cockies visited my yard everyday, but one evening one of them could no longer launch itself into the air. It decided to spend the night in my bougainvillea, approximately 2metres above ground. Bad decision.

Around 8pm I heard an almighty screeching from the backyard. Running outside with a torch, I searched the yard until coiling movement in the bougainvillea caught my eye. As I approached, I knew that it was too late to try and save the poor cocky - it was literally breathing it’s last breath as it’s eyes slowly closed (above photo).

The python seemed unperturbed by my close presence, coiling tighter around the cocky’s body. I ran inside to grab the camera, and then spent the next 2 hours witnessing nature’s life cycle first hand.

During the killing process, the python kept his head well above the “action”, appearing at times to be almost disinterested in what the lower part of his body was doing. Once the cocky hung limp, he lowered himself under the bird and opened his jaws around the back of the cocky’s head. The snake’s whole body rippled with each convulsive bite - scales shimmering with that trademark purple sheen.

Having eventually succeeded in swallowing his prey, the scrubby was happy just to “sit a spell”, tongue flickering at me as I took his portrait shots. Eventually he headed off toward the fence and into the darkness of the bush.

The next few days saw the remaining cocky pine away for it’s mate, as it too lost it’s ability to fly. Eight days after the first attack, at around 9pm, I once again heard a piercing screeching from the backyard. I didn’t have to go outside to know what it meant. This time the cocky was very much still alive, looking me straight in the eye, squawking for dear life. I had only earlier that day removed a paralysis tick from this cocky’s head, and had rung the vet about him. I thought I’d try and save this one. I grabbed the hose and turned it full bore on the python.

If a python could say “pfffft”, then this guy would’ve. He didn’t care less about the water or my presence. Once again the snake appeared distinterested in the bird until it was dead. At least this again was a quick death.

This python was slighty smaller than the last visitor (2.5 m compared to the previous 3.5). Once again, coils cleverly aligned wings and feet into a neat tube-like shape, as the cocky was slowly consumed.

We had a few witnesses to these attacks, and the python didn’t give 2 figs. My son recorded the whole incident on a digital movie format (lasted for about 1 hour), the neighbours came over and took some snaps (one had a visiting American friend who was completely aghast at the ferocity of Aussie wildlife), and even the cat and dog watched on.

Now the bounganvillea is referred to as “The Tree of Death” by the neighbours. I only wish the scrubbies could “take care” of the massive bandicoot that digs up the garden every night!

“If you go down to the woods today, you’re sure of a big surprise….”

As I came up to the metre wide trunk of this tree, I wondered where the other half of the resident was - the pointy half.

Tip-toeing quietly around the tree trunk, (which was perched on a steep slope above a very rocky creek bed some metres below), I found this:

One ex-wallaby and a very satisfied Scrubby (Amethystine Python).

That’s dinner taken care of for the next 6 months or so. Would that be considered yo-yo dieting?

Can you guess what this is?

Clue: it’s in a bucket as it’s not too friendly. And it can kill you.

Yes, it’s a Northern Death Adder for those of you that know your snakes. Sorry this photo is a bit blurry, but as I put my camera (and hand!) into the bucket, it showed me an unhappy glare of it’s eye (that black dot in the middle) and I went a bit wobbly.

Happily sunning himself in a spot with lots of people was not a good situation for anyone, so the Relocation Bucket was called in to assist with a move to a less populated area.

Continuing with the reptilian theme, the cheeky (but lazy) Lace Monitor half heartedly climbed a gum when it saw me. It is easily my height from snout to tail tip, but is a scaredy cat at heart. I walked right up to him, and he flattened his face against the trunk as if to say “I’m invisible now, so you’ll forget you ever saw me and go away”.

He has his lovely new skin now, after leaving shreds and tatters of the old one everywhere. I’ve kept some of it ( think Goldmember peeling his skin in Austin Powers - “That’s a keeper!”), and it’s just like pieces of elastic bubblewrap.

Anyway, enough of the Animal Antics for a while (even though I have so many more photos and tales of them!). New subject matter for tomorrow!

As mentioned in my previous post, Australia Day was spent deep in the Rainforest, in the shadow of beautiful Red Peak Mountain. Our gorgeous hosts Sylvia and Pete host an all-out BBQ brekkie on the deck of their rainforest home, overlooking the crystal clear Stony Creek. With toes dipped in the gurgling waters, you imagine you are lost in the wilderness, far far from anywhere civilised.

The whole rainforest feels old, and you almost want to whisper your conversations.

It was such a simple pleasure, sitting atop a rock, letting feet drift in the cool current.

Curious visitors attracted by the intrusion of feet appeared. See how many you can spot in the next photo.

These are Flag Tailed Grunters, apparently quite a pugnacious fish. They were perfectly genteel on this occasion.

 Even Jez (who’s not a fan of fish near his feet) felt relaxed in the “pirahna” infested waters.

I really loved the tangledness of everything. Roots and branches everywhere seemed entwined with each other.

Although with rainforest comes the inhabitants. You may have heard the story in the media recently of the Golden Orb Spider than caught a bird in it’s web and devoured it up here. Our hosts have one happily living next to their back deck.

Pete (in respendent Green & Gold), stands in front of his friend. If he stood behind it, it would easily be the size of his face.

Sorry for the blurriness of this photo - I wasn’t too keen to get really close. You will notice the LONG red fangs, and the beautiful golden colour of it’s web.

As I type this a gentle rain is falling. Not the pounding, drenching monsoon rain, but something soft and sleep inducing. I hope all of you in the south are faring well in the heat wave. 45.7C in Adelaide today. That’s 114F+. Think cool thoughts everyone.

How could I forget our 1 year anniversary of teleporting up here to the Tropics? Don’t know how, but I did.

Just over a year ago this behemoth was pulling away from our kerb, en route to the rainforest….

What a year it’s been!

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.

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!

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…..