Archives for posts with tag: Travel

Here are some belated photos from my trip to europe this year that I took on my pentax k1000. I scanned the originals into my computer so it has lost a little quality but you get the idea. It was really rewarding to shoot film, only taking one or two photos of a subject instead of 20. But also the depth this camera captures is beautiful and affecting in it’s own right. These are only a few favourites that I’ve chosen(so hard to choose!!), and I took seven rolls altogether. I think my favourite place to photograph was portugal, the weather was lovely and around every corner seemed to be something interesting. :)



I took these photos on my phone during my recent trip to europe. we travelled in a van and three ferries. It wa a mish mash of rain, sunshine, sandy beaches and pebbley ones, long drives and breathless views, animal encounters and personal reflections. (and a taste of art too!) These are only random snaps as I took many more on my film camera (pentaxk1000) and have yet to get digital copies. So I hope you enjoy some of these for now :)

nice to be back in melbourne even though it is chill and cold,



I  was invited by NZ artist Gaye Jurisich to set up an artwork for the Cottesloe ‘Sculpture by the Sea’ in early March. Sadly the exhibition has been finished for 2 weeks since writing this. We were working on a sculpture called Spirula made out of clear plastic sheeting and wire pins.  Had a wonderful time there in my hometown of Perth, however the weather made it hard to get motivated for work, being 35 degrees each day, all I wanted to do all day was swim! Though swim we did, as well as many coffee and ice-cream breaks.

You can check out some more of this years exhibition here:

and more of Gaye’s work at:

Gaye Jurisich - Ribbon


Always someone’s cousin,

Have you ever sculled yogurt?

The dimly lit street, I run my hand over the wet rail and out of nowhere a voice breaks the silence. Out in the void it shares it’s desire for freedom and finally it has come. But suddenly a rude awakening of a separate presence quietens this expression. And all is insular again.

Tea is resting on the window sil. Scones on the pillow. A man walks to his car in the rain, pencil behind his ear. Dog barks across the road, he is trapped behind a gate. My previous plans destroyed because of whispy drops. Some one has placed stones carefully on top the garden wall between two houses. Not all the leaves have departed their branches, instead they choose to prolong their lively dance until they fall and lie suffocated by footsteps and stapled down by gravity for all time.

Everyone is a sensationalist.

Put ingredients into the melting pot, thanks for the advice it helped a lot.

Ordering song files by date could only work if all files had their date attached to them, compared to alphabetical order where everything obviously has a title. However I would want artists arranged alphabetically and then the albums arranged by date. Well that could make things a bit confusing – for all those unenlightened to such an immaculate system.

Sinking into mama bears soft chair until the fire melts me stiff.

An artist is always searching and then again always finding. Yet he never stops , whether he is working or his art is working – or not.

I hate chain stores, I hate umbrellas. Rain and paper bags equals the crushing of my spirit.


That poor swan. The two boys taunted it out onto the frozen lake and but it couldn’t stay balanced properly and actually fell over. It was very funny but very sad in a lot of ways. We were on our way to Regents Park I think, or maybe Campden market. Yes that was probably what it was. However it didn’t live up to all my great expectations and hype. This would have been around the same time last year, if not exactly. It was the first time my partner and I had seen snow and ice on our Europe tour. Quite exciting for people from down under.

On Christmas day we went for a walk through Wimbledon Common. My main aim was to find wombles and prove to ecstatic children across the world (including myself) their secret existence but instead we found a christmas tree. A small pine some one had decorated with tinsle. It was quite magical yet it was so isolated. It was a rather quite morning save for a few families on bikes or taking their dog/s for a walk. They were all smart enough to wear gumboots, but seeing as we humble backpackers had none we had to settle for muddy splodges half way up the back of our trousers or in my case stockings.

Having Christmas away from my family was a whole new experience to me. No glamourous presents under a fresh smelling christmas tree, no home made shortbread, no ambience vibrating through the house filled with footsteps, gasps or whispers of excitement and chatter. Instead it felt mostly… quiet. And a took a moment to relish and embrace this silence, this special unique feeling of solitude. In saying this though the mere fact that I knew it was christmas gave the day reverence and joy, which is what makes christmas day so wonderful. Also I made sure that I went to church in the morning, this helped compensate the lack of family and familiarity in general.

Later that afternoon we trundled down to an apartment in Wandsworth for lunch. The combination of corny christmas specials, a comfy couch, relaxed conversation with new friends and my wonderful partner as well as of course roast vegies was simply delightful. It was so nice to be inside a warm house with the weather outside so chilly and dreary. It didn’t snow on christmas day but it had the day before and finally the concept of christmas made sense to me. All the snow flake ornaments, carols, snow, mulled wine, roast turkey etc never make any sense in Australia because its warm over here during december but when you are in the northen hemisphere it all feels so right. People need something to cheer them up when its so awful outside.

Anyway this year my expectation has decreased slightly, perhaps because of this overseas experience I’m not sure but I do know that everything in my life is changing and so is my family and things need to change otherwise we’ll never grow. And however sad it is that I’ll never feel the same way I did as if I were 6 or 7 waking up at 6 30 Christmas morning I can still elish in my heart the true joy and meaning of Christmas. And that is of course Jesus Christ.

I think I may have been a bit harsh on the situation last year because after all I did get a new wallet from Cath Kidston (which for me seeing a Cath Kidston store was amazing in itself), a new journal and a voucher for Waterstones where I bought the Odyssey by Homer which is still sitting on my bookshelf now, unread.

Sadly there is no group photo :( however I did get a photo of this awesome fridge :)



Here is a review for the 17th Sydney Biennale for a student-run, monash-orientated magazine called zeitgeist:

On the morn of the12th May dewy eyed painting students queued up at Melbourne Airport for their flight to Sydney. For a large number of years now the Painting Department has organized group trips to experience the Biennale of Sydney. Housed in 7 different locations around Sydney, this year’s biennale like most, have artworks that can be awe-inspiring, some disposable and many snuggled in between.

The sky was clear and blue over the harbour as a friend and I munched down some breakfast, just in time to miss the first ferry of the day to Cockatoo Island. Once reaching the somewhat picturesque island, the vast space and zero signage can leave one disorientated. However spotting what seems to be a giant black and white jumping castle comes as a relief. But however childlike it appears, Brook Andrew’s Jumping Castle War Memorial has a more serious undertone; it is a memorial to victims of genocide worldwide. On heading into the hanger-sized warehouse some things become apparent. Artworks appear to be simply set-up amongst metal scrap and rusting equipment. And so these scraps and crumbling interior as such are in most cases more intriguing than the artworks in question. Be that as it may there were many notable artists and their work such as Daniel Crooks’ peaceful, captivating video installation Static No.12 (seek stillness in movement). This expresses the fragility of aging and indeed the nature of time itself with an old man practicing Tai Chi; his figure slowly being digitally distorted.

Feeling privileged to be attending the artist talk by Rosslynd Piggott; the maturity and precision of this artist is evident. Shelter consisted of three rooms in one of the oldest cottages on the island. These rooms require physical engagement from the audience and hence provoking contemplation of space. Japan’s rich cultural history is addressed and integrated with that of colonial Australia whence this cottage was built. As you may or may not know Rosslynd Piggott currently teaches Third Year Painting at Monash, and it was a great experience to see one of my teachers in the business and talking about their own work. It is easy to get lost Cockatoo Island but exploring and finding these unexpected hidden treasures of video projections and other installations makes for a more rewarding and interesting experience.

The Museum for Contemporary Art is the other major venue for the Sydney Biennale. It is situated across from the harbour and greets you with a spectacular metal spider-looking sculpture with legs extending and lifting itself into the air. There isn’t a way to get distracted inside the four-storey building as on Cockatoo Island, except perhaps by the bookshop to buy that essential postcard.

When encountering Angela Ellsworth’s pieces many connotations arise. The bonnet shapes themselves can be symbols of a nineteenth century lady. However the pins of which they are made suggest a malice or injustice done toward these women. The intricacy in such handy-work is captivating. Such violence yet sweetness in Meanwhile, back at the ranch converge to create a contradiction to the traditional roles of women yet display the vicious cycle of domestic disturbance that never seems to change or disappear.

First impressions of Christian Jankowski’s work Live from the inside are of the superficial nature of the media. However after sitting and watching this video through, it is so much more. What appears as a process of developing an artwork actually becomes the artwork itself. His wit and humour are so refreshing, the dialogue and insight into what is so real for artists everywhere; questions about life and success as an artist. It is clearly poking fun but there is still a quiet honesty about it. Throughout the MCA there are some simply bizarre works by artists such as Rodney Graham, Mark Wallinger and Folkert de Jong. Then there are familiar names such as Louise Bourgeois, Jake and Dinos Chapman who do not disappoint

Being overwhelmed by four full days of non-stop art I grew weary to the idea of ever watching a multi-panel video installation again; however still appreciating the themes of trauma and experience of the past as well as looking to the future displayed at this years biennale. After three months of being on show the 17th Biennale of Sydney closes the 1st of August.


She waits, she fidgets, where is the adventure she anticipated?

Oh yes, it has been chased away by men and loud noises, that pull her consciousness back to reality,

But still, in this moment her thoughts linger and dwell, on all the creatures that live in these trees and under this floor of grasses and shrubs,

Torn between and fading into a background of burnt bark and running way, getting lost, being alone.





this was the end of the film, and i accidently took 4 exposures on top of one another… but am stoked with the result.

About nine in the morning of May 27 i met this charming and extremely fluffy kitty. she wouldn’t leave me alone until i had walked all the way down the street and she realized i wasn’t taking her home, aww

clarendon ave, among many swish homes, housing many sophisticated mothers and husbands and spoilt children, i can only imagine.

the quality of these aren’t fantastic because they are digital photos of analog prints and i’m still getting used to working the camera ;)



You broke my heart,

Upon your stairs,

I lost my cares,

San Michel,

Where tears fell,

Champs Elysees

I faded away.


Rising with pride, joy and contentness,

Nervous yet glad with anxious ambitions,

About all the things I wish to acheive,

Will I get where I want to be,

Learned and interesting with all kinds of anecdotes,

I will read all the greats and study all i can think of,

From old sailing ships to astrology,

The anatomy of the newt and the skeletal structure of a moose,

How tall california redwoods grow ,

And how many ants live in one colony,

Yes one day I will be educated and write great stories for all to read,

Alas I fear that this all too hopeful and not near,

To what reality will arrange for me.