Friends

It's hard saying goodbye to friends when you don't know when you will see them again but I see us all as thousands of little spinning cogs randomly living our lives and connecting by chance or design. Sometimes the encounter is meaningful and the two cogs mesh and slow down and sometimes it is a brief encounter and they barely touch before spinning away. However the length of time between encounters often determines the amount of meshing involved. So the longer the interval the slower the cogs spin when they meet.. In other words the quality of the friendship stays the same even if you don't see each other for a while.

How heavy is a life?

Autumn is upon us with cool mornings and brilliant skies. Spent yesterday upside down under the boat painting her bottom (I'm usually a breast man) and fitting new zinc anodes on the sail drives in preparation for winter. There is a lot of door closing for my move to France but they sure ain't going to be locked. I've been weighing my tools and rating them in order of importance so I am not over weight on the plane. Not much room for clothes but I'm taking my beloved Maton guitar. Paints are too heavy but ideas travel well. The hat collection has to come. Can I fit a life into two suitcases? I suppose we fit a life into one coffin. Freedom!

The Road to Monte Cassino

In twelve days I fly out to start a new adventure in France. Two days in Paris then a week travelling down to Marseille exploring the countryside looking for a house and workshop to rent. I only have six weeks to finish a sculpture for the Cassino exhibition which starts on the 15th May, it will be pushing it but I work well under pressure. Originally I thought of constructing a bombed building and have two figures rising out of it (Phoenix?) denoting peace, love and beauty (the exhibition has a theme of peace and remembrance of the war) but lately I have been thinking about those who died and if they could rise from the building and see the world today what would they think of it. Was it worth the sacrifice? Have we used it wisely? Are our values better? Is there less war? I don't think so. It's going to be hard to express but maybe on the two figures faces a look of bewildered horror that their efforts have been in vain along with some of the results of our hollow, celebrity seeking society, a TV with the E Channel running, a barbie doll, an AK47 etc etc.
I am a fan of hope and love and beauty but for them to be acheived we have to look very hard at ourselves and that is one of the job descriptions of an artist.

What the.......

OK just don't ask!! The title is 'Head in the Clouds but Open to Reason'. It seemed like a good idea at the time (the wee small hours) but then most things do. At least I was able to recycle lots of wood from our old bach and it's kind of nice that it's made another little house/lighthouse/abomination! It was in an exhibition at a local cafe but today I assembled at the Mercury Estate Winery, it will probably scare all their customers away.

Occult

In the deep, dark backblocks of Flaxmill Bay, past the blackened stump, through the evil smelling swamp where strange creatures stare, across the turgid river where people disappear, there stands a shed. Not just any shed but a place of cults and worship and strange goings on. Men meet there, no women allowed. Men with strange names like Gav the Midget and Jerry Spintoomuch, Cowboyhat Scotty and Baldeagle Merv, Chooky Hewhothinkshestoogood and the Great Lord Alty Canyoupicktheballup who conceived the dastardly idea. And their game? The reason for meeting at the dead of night? TABLETENNIS!! and we do allow Claire cos she brings cake and we worship a cold beer and maybe it's not really the sport we gather for.