a thought for late November

Every winter, I forget how many white scars I have, all over.
Every spring, the first sunshine, skin changing colour –
I remember again.

Childhood summers, teenage accidents, work mishaps
and everything else, all written on the body.

I am a map : )

Jewellery before RMIT 1: winter cargo

winter cargo (2003)
oxidised copper, enamel, glass beads, industrial steel netting

This neck piece was inspired by the beach in winter; what washes on the shore, how everything tangles together, the colours … Click on the image for a sharper view.

tiny glimpses of larger work

Regarding my previous post, this is what I'm working on. These are small details
from some of the (as yet unpublished : ) illustrations.

these early domestic animals

Nooo, not chickens!

I'm currently working towards a fast approaching deadline on a book illustration project. It is fun, all encompassing, and just about everything in between. Everything good. Intensive work periods often also make me nocturnal – 4.30 am is the new bedtime (if not black). Being up so early feels strange, given it's years since I witnessed an honest sunrise … but then, I get a glimpse of what happens in the kitchen when they think no-one is looking. This is who I saw.

Sunday sentiment

Like sugar … but a little different

14/11/09

14/11/09

Duende : )

From Tony Gatlif's Latcho Drom, 1993

Warmth

11-11-2009

emery

– click images to inspect –

Hit it, Hal!

Early in the morning, she hitched a ride down to Louisville
Holding onto a hundred dollar bill
Dressed herself like a Cajun Queen in New Orleans, baby
Yeah, she looked good, like a lady
(Do it to me, James)

And the Mississippi River runs like molasses in the summertime
And me, you know, I don't hardly mind …

Sipping on a beer in Bourbon Street and I'm sitting easy
Don't get me wrong, it takes a lot to please me

Have a seat and take a load off your feet, and she said – Yes
So I said, 'I like your dress'
Swamps all around make you feel kind of funny, don't they, honey
She crossed her legs and looked at me funny

Down on the bayou, why, you never know just what you're doing
Down on the bayou, why, you never know just what you're doing
(what you're doing)
Down on the bayou, why, you never know just what you're doing …

(from Mississippi by John "Papa" (!) Phillips, 1970)

Let us be lovers

Let us be lovers we'll marry our fortunes together
I've got some real estate here in my bag
So we bought a pack of cigarettes and Mrs. Wagner pies
And we walked off to look for America …



















Counting the cars on the New Jersey Turnpike
February 2009

Click on the images for a larger view
(lyrics P. Simon)

Roll on you careless (spring) evening

Rooftops, waiting for the first warm night


waiting, and watching for


As lights glow for others,


a blind trolley slowly moves along a lane, along a lane, along a lane …

The veins of night




through a beating paper heart



Quiet houses, safety in the frying food



Tonight, the trees can talk.


Brunswick West 2/11/09
welcome warm weather, please stay awhile.