The Invisible Artist

Every night I crash, despite the desire to continue the street art project. Then, overwhelmed by a sense of uselessness, I abort and seek the comfort of the pillow instead. I’ve been sitting on a number of pieces for a while now, but last night the urgency had returned. The ANU bus stop has bared the remnants of an earlier work since April, and…

Art in a vacuum

I’ve seen this ‘Art’ stencil for about a month in a bus shelter that previously sported my Valentines Tableau paste-up. A question? a statement? or a challenge? I could not decide. My idea was simple, art in a vacuum – seemed an appropriate surround for the lonely words and last night, having fallen asleep on the couch (for a change!), I awoke with my…

The Boat

The image of the boat has been a recurring theme in my painting for two years. Imagining the claustrophobic hull – the hell of uncertainty. I worked night shift earlier in the year with a young man who made such a journey in 2001. Although only 8 years old at the time, he vividly described three nights jammed in with asylum seekers from a…

Variations on a theme

The transformation comes and goes, sometimes gradually, sometimes at more regular intervals, like the sun falling on wing tips and then it is all consuming. Those beams of light exposing uncertainty, blue fading to leave the shape of a new painting, gleaming, full of promise but not yet real, just an idea. Outlined against the sky, brilliant like metal but in equal part, already…

Abbott Proof Fence

  A better photo of the bird mural. I’m thinking of turning this place into a street art gallery.

Flutter and Fade

A long afternoon of exploring the back streets lay ahead. This time south of Kingsford Smith drive, a large arterial dividing suburbs and whose street lamps illuminate the back veranda by night. Sunday afternoons also hold a special light, and a mood sharpened by the prospect of diminishing freedom before another working week. It makes one embrace the activity with extra effort and weave…

I Still Call Australia Home

  A new home, we are here, almost – yet still caged and treated like a problem to be dealt with. Some invisible process continues, digging for a reason to send us back. If they dig deep enough, I’m afraid they might reach my heart, and damage all that is left of me. I came with only the heart to start again. I will…