Bloody computers!

Just when I get connected, my brand new expensive computer is kaput!!Who knows how long it will take to fix, I have been waiting 3 weeks for nails for my nail gun. I said I wouldnt get frustrated didnt I. My sculpture for Italy is going well (even with a hammer!) and now without a computer I`ll have even more time. My phone in France is 0033 (0) 636613334 if you want to contact me. Not that I`m desperate for friends!!

At last I have internet in my house. It's only taken 3 weeks which is phhh! nothing. I don't get frustrated with the speed (snailpace) that things work here, it makes you stop and think. However having internet makes the world seem much smaller and New Zealand not quite so far away. A few photos below of my whereabouts.




My garden towards my house



the view of the mountains from my workshop



The entrance to my abode



A typical visitor




A typical tableau for aperitif




Caught working in my makeshift workshop

Run rabbit run!

So I take this half lapin (rabbit, 2 euro) and discard the eyes. Now I don't know if dey have four-eyed rabbits in France, it's a wonder dey catch dem if dey have. Anyway the two eyes are gone, kaput, I mean if you invite yo friends to eat and dey see dem seeing dem dey not be coming back. Well I chops him up a bit an flours him and puts him in a hot pan wif da local olive oil til he is brown all over and smelling good. Bang he is in da pot. Den I find da veges I have in de bottom of de cupboard, onion, carrot, corjet?, potato, garlic, fenuil (fennel) an I chops dem big and hearty and browns dem in de pan til they smell etc. Bang dey are in de pot too. Now yo best cognac yo put in a glass and drink quick(da world might end before yo are finished!, yo worst brandy yo put in de hot pan an flambo (light with a match dear boy, you numbskull!) an scrape up all de goodies from da bottom. Bingo into da pot. Yo cover with water. On no account do yo drink da water, the same without alcohol is very dangerous! Throw three handfuls of de brown lentil, some salt, fat peppercorns, herbs de provence (or whatever), a little chilli and simmer for 14 days. But, But! Yo must eat after 2-3 hours. Now I don't tell yo to taste but yo should know by now. After the good cooking (the shorter version) yo have by yo side, balsamic, soy sauce, red wine vinegar an yo taste an yo add a little an yo taste. Need more chilli? Need more salt? Da lapin must have a balance and his eyes are still watchin yo to make sure yo balance him right.
OK yo can use da chicken if yo want!

The town plane trees stand imprisoned in concrete, their leperous arms raised up with small baton fingers in a plea for spring to send new clothes and a neighbour also leperous with whiskers and the detrius of life and in need of new clothes spouts old wisdom in great gusts of French while his dog Poupoul looks on in disgust. He's heard it all before. He says non to wine but manages to drink a lot and with each emphasis he pulls his chair closer to the table till he cannot move so he must leave but after he is up and away he thinks of something else and he is back with the dance of the chair and his big secret. He is an Anarchist!! I can't remember if I've met an anarchist before but he fits the bill.
I feel we are going to be good friends.

In France wireless internet sux!! It appears to be everywhere but connection and security codes etc etc make it difficult so I havenèt been able to keep you up with my adventures.
travelled quickly south in a rented car(to try and warm up), stayed with friends of friends in NW Provence and more f of f near Marseille, bought a Puegeot 406 (so now I am French!) and then travelled back up to an apartment in Gagniere a very small town an hour from Avignon where the locals look at me very strangely, is it the hat or the popcorn machine strapped to my back!! The apt is on the second floor of a large house and has lovely big rooms and opens out to a large garden where I can work. The family live below, Mum, Dad and 4 boys and are great fun with lots going on.
Still need tools and materials before I can start my sculpture but at least I have a place to build it. I am finding the language difficult, I ca make myself understood a little but have no idea what they are saying. I will have to continue to work hard on it.
The bread and cheese are just as I remembered them!

Paris

From the coddled, easy life he is jet-thrusted into the veins and battle scarred arteries of the city he loves. The train sheek, sheek, sheeks and the chic,chic,chic Parisian women live up to their reputation from toe to coiffure. Ah, the city of springtime love. But not now as she spits him in the face and fumbles his coat with icy fingers while he limps along with arthritic knives in his hip and knee and the Georges Pompideau is closed so no succour from Lucian Freud. The computer lied, the language is not remotely like what it taught him but after a friendly pernod and a new sun on his back he knew there was a poem there somewhere.

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.

Pre face

Just returned from a lovely 9 days in Sydney with my daughter Shelley and family. Like an old dog I have to leave my mark so attacked a dead eucalyptus tree in their Balinese pool area. Pity there was some cancer (rot) which I had to take out on the left hand side of the mouth but there are flaws in all of us!

Shedding a life

There is little mileage left
In this old skin
So do I throw it down
With the others
Or burnish it
Every day
Until the new one fits

Art should be like breathing

What is it about art in museums and galleries that I don't like. Is it the attempt to objectify and canonise it, to separate it from life when it should be part of it. I love coming across art in unexpected places where you can take it or leave it, love it or hate it but it hasn't got all the artworld bullshit behind it. It's a natural progression of what you are doing. Of course it's more difficult with paintings because they need a wall and must be protected so give me sculpture and a wide plain or the side of a mountain or the ocean (I have plans for a fountain generated by wave motion) or a grimy city street.
Or maybe I'm just trying to justify my latest abomination (more later [not more abominations I hope!]) that I'm going to unleash on the poor world.

Viva la France!

So I'm off to France at the end of March. I have been accepted into an exhibition at Cassino in Italy where many NZers fought and died with the Italians in WW2 and rather than ship my big, bulky sculptures up there I thought I would rent a house in south of France, make them there and deliver them personally. Oh the hardships!!! It will be a tight schedule, I only have 6 weeks to find a house, workshop, tools and materials before delivery. I have been learning French for the last 4 months so it's a good opportunity to put it into practice.

Billie

Great friend Billie Mallett has arrived from England and is painting up a storm for our annual art escape event.

Possum up a native tree

What is it about the hierachy of animals that if someone tortures a dog there are calls for higher prison sentences for animal cruelty and yet the state poisons (read slow, agonising death) hundreds of thousands of animals (mostly the Australian possum which is eating our native forests but also birds and fish that get caught up in the cycle) with the blanket use of 1080.
Interestingly enough when the gypsy moth (a threat to our agriculture industry) was found in Auckland they actually sprayed poison on parts of the city with a plane.
Go figure!

Art Escape

The internet has been down for five days which is annoying but in some ways a bit of a relief. I got so much done!! I am part of the committee that organises an annual open studio weekend which runs for two weekends Feb 26,27,28th and Mar. 5,6,7th. It's focus is on selling art and we have 39 artists taking part this year, all from our local area. The Coromandel has a great history in the arts (comparitively NZ wise) with a lot of alternative people (artists, musicians, craftspeople) moving here out of the cities in the 1960s.
It's hard times selling art but hopefully we can encourage people to shake the moths out of their wallets.

Still Running

Installing three of my 'running men' on friends' Meg and Jerrys' garage roof

See, I haven't been sitting on my thumbs. The latest creation 'In Your Arms at Last' going to a gallery in Cambridge.