Gestalt

June 19, 2014

How little visual information do we need to recognise a person? From a surprisingly great distance all we need is the shape, the shapes a body makes as it moves in its own particular fashion.

Copy of image_5Skin, the outline of us, is stretched and molded by what lies beneath, a great metaphor. We protect ourselves with further coverings and yet the elemental shapes of a person can reveal so much.

Laying watercolor onto paper is like feeling the skin, as a liquid membrane. Steadfast in it’s role as protector, skin is what separates us physically from almost everything else. It contains the unique shape and form of each of us.

KONICA MINOLTA DIGITAL CAMERA

Nine months on

February 8, 2013

Well it’s been a while but it’s time to begin this story again. The stumbling block was a silly mistake of mine – I accidentally deleted most of the images off this blog, and realising the enormity of the task of reposting them, I ignored the whole thing for as long as I could. Over the next little while all or most will be restored.

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In the meantime, here is a taste of things people to come. There are many babies arriving in my world, recently and soon. This mum is very keen to meet her babe sooner rather than later.

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Falls Creek in May

May 8, 2011

Today a cloud was blown around me by a small breeze as I sat on top of Mount McKay. It covered the sun and arched above my head and filled my view in a half dome. A chill came with it and a feeling of expectancy.

For much of the past two days up there in the alps the clouds skipped across a blue sky and threw shadows on yellow ochre plains. Silver skeletons of burnt bleached snow gums looked like fur from a distance and like cast metal close up.

While I sat there painting, my son Tom rang to wish me a happy mothers day. I was very happy, and here is the painting.

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I have always loved the sea, but living here near the mountains I’m discovering a different peacefulness that comes from emersing myself in a wild place. It’s the quiet and the coolness.

I know it can be the opposite to that, but not this time.

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Violence

May 3, 2011

A few days ago we heard on the news that a young man and his three children were killed in an air raid. His father, a megalomaniac, was the intended target.

Last night we heard that a man who is responsible for many acts of violence around the world was killed in a surprise attack. ‘He used his wife as a human shield’ they said.

Both reports made me feel sick. It was the smiles on people’s faces that did it. Of course the world can do without such men. And I reckon I would feel like avenging a murdered loved one, and it all makes me feel sick.

I feel compelled to post a quote I saw in my friend’s studio recently.

“I object to violence because when it appears to do good, the good is only temporary; the evil it does is permanent.” Mahatma Gandhi.

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Bunch of Birds

April 19, 2011

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A flock, a gaggling squawking bunch of birds,

the sound coming closer across the sea of sky ahead.

They come towards me sitting there at Mum’s back door

eating toast drinking coffee on this quiet Sunday morning.

They flash and flutter, wheeling in unison

then disperse then gather again.

Is this Hitchcock’s dream?

Arguing at high volume

checking positions or deciding where to land

or maybe exclaiming delight for the view

they dance over me and around and away.

The noise fades and I see at last

they are flashing jewels, confetti, a celebration.