These days

I feel almost physically sick when I check my email these days. I would be really happy not to have to have it any more, except obviously I have to.

This feeling has been current for some time. One of the results of it is that most of my correspondents have pretty much given up on me, so I hardly have any emails when I do check. In one way, this is pleasing, as I don't have to answer any emails (which I don't know why makes me feel wrong sometimes - I think it's not my preferred way to interact with people: I'm reflective enough as it is); in another way, I feel sad because I'm losing touch with people. Which is very bad.

In other news, I was going to post the pictures I took from my vantage point high over Glebe and Annandale of the post-apocalyptic [-looking] orange dust storm that woke me up at 5.30am (something pounds on the exterior wall of the bedroom during gale force winds and it's not conducive to sweet dreams - and for once it wasn't the nightmare neighbours, more on whom later). But everyone else in the world already posted them. Here, look.

It was a very unsettling thing to wake up, not merely because I see that time of the morning perhaps twice a year at most, but because it looked like a mammoth super-fire was roaring in from Western Sydney. All the windows of our place were open, and in my sleepy state I couldn't understand why I couldn't smell the smoke. I had a flashback to the late eighties and thought the end of the world was nigh. And there were not yet pictures of red sky on the Herald website, so I thought maybe all the journalists had been liquified. Once I had looked up BOM and seen that the meteorologists were still living, breathing and updating their site, I relaxed a bit. Couldn't go back to sleep, though (see tree issue, previous paragraph).

I took photos to show MW when he woke up but it was extraordinarily still completely orange when the proper day started about two hours later. Now there's a yucky film of dust over everything in my studio, because of the vents-I-haven't-yet-found-a-stepladder-to-climb-up-on-and-cover-with-plastic-or-paper-or-something-because-of-the-white-dust-that-blows-in-through-them-when-there's-wind. Fortunately all the fragile masterpieces-in-progress are covered in glad wrap (or as they'd say in Adrian Mole or The Young Ones, 'cling film'. [Cling film, heh]). Dustiness is a place my work goes to in its nightmares.

I've just been in the library so I'm all full of mental blurgh. I don't mean mental 'blah' like 'meh', I mean blurgh like 'urge to blurt things out'.

I so loved Adrian Mole. I always think of him when I'm sorting through 'the heavy papers' on the weekend.

Other things are progressing pleasingly. Time is always a problem; but if there was no time there couldn't be any doing at all so I suppose I shouldn't complain that it's passing.

OMG generic post title

I made florentines.

They are freaking amazing. Hence, I am the best pastry chef ever. Don't bother arguing with me, because you'll lose.

ION, I'm back in the studio, finally. Freaking about time. Not much excitement is going on there, but I'm working, anyway.

Such a Good Thing.

Progress on Rules

Today I had to exercise some self-control. In keeping with the new rules, I did not buy either of the two books I was considering at Gleebooks second-hand.

I will probably long for them for a couple more days, then I'll be over it.

If not, I'll go back for them in blatant disregard of my commitment.

Our apartment is bitterly cold today, despite the sun outside. Studio calling! (There's a heater in there.)

Meh

I am losing my fabulous studio.

It was enormous, fabulous, free, and mine.

But I knew it wouldn't last forever.

Here it is, in happier times (detail):

I also haven't found a new house yet. I hope this will happen soon. I will have to do some major purging.

I'm trying to write an artist's statement that somehow says everything. It's hard.

I think I will post more often. Will that please you?

Back and hyperventilating

I'm back from my thingo. I didn't *really* get that much work done but everyone likes to tell me that it will all absorb itself and make sense later. I don't know about that. I think getting work done is getting work done, and not getting work done is not getting it done.

Actually I don't know that I really think that.

So anyway. I feel overwhelmed by the big city and all the work that has piled up in my absence and the money I didn't earn while I was away and all that jazz.

This is the house I stayed in and part of its garden. Well, really, this is a picture of part of the house that I stayed in and a picture of part of its garden.

*sigh*

It's 'another post' o'clock

I am striking while the posting energy iron is hot.

In a strange twist of deja-vu-esque 2007-2008 synchronicity, I am shortly to go on another residency.

I am going to this house in a small village for a month:


It's going to be beautiful, productive, peaceful, old, interesting, sometimes lonely and probably some other things that I cannot yet predict.

There, the posting iron will not only not be hot, it won't even exist. That's correct. No internetiendo! It's a gaspworthy thing, yessir.

I will, however, survive.

What I Did In My Holidays I Mean Life Lately

Went to Melbourne for exhibition stop sold a little work stop no its true I wouldn't shit ya stop it was very cheap stop had fun hanging out with teigan drinking a lot and inhaling secondhand smoke but this has all come to an end now ha stop bought a great table on ebay for my new studio no this is back in sydney now stop yes new studio for me to be productive in stop i told you i was going to get one stop also a good chair stop photos soon stop maybe stop went climbing for the first time in two months stop couldnt hack it for long stop must stop get stop fit stop

yeah yeah i know its more tiring to read than it is to write

stop

just hadda sneak that in

stop [etc etc etc]

Long-awaited residency post

So I've just been on this artist residency? They give you a huge studio (and apartment) in the country, full of light and 20 minutes drive on a windy dirt road to the nearest crap town to encourage you to do lots of work.

When I arrived I was all 'what am I going to do with all this space?'


As much fun as it was skipping around while listening to loud music, I did feel that I should do some work. And much as I love naycha, I don't really wanna make art about this:

So I did some things like this:

this,

um, and this,

you know, and some other stuff ... some videos ... can't post 'em, they're not finished.

I felt like I got a lot done but now when I think about it I'm not so sure ...

Anyway. A month in the country is pretty good. Sorry this post is so anticlimactic but at least now we can all get on with our lives.

Productive and ennobling poverty Day Three

Spend inordinate amount of time writing simple letter to get new studio (in which to be productive, natch). Feel warm community-friendly feeling due to proximity of desired studio to house. Still running late so must drive letter up road. Holly's opening. Ride bike into city in accordance with new healthy intentions. Feel slack as didn't help Holly install show as promised. Drown sorrows with three beers. Accept lift home, leave bike in town.

Upgrade

Hey! We're not out of beta yet, so thanks for your patience; here are some of the changes you can expect to see coming up.

-- Job quitted. This will take effect in a couple of months. We sure do appreciate your standing by.
-- Positive influence on life of new computer. Just got a few teething problems to sort out. Rosetta whosa? Intel whatza?
-- Implementation of New Year's resolution* (made in December). Stats on progess so far are as follows: three applications written, two deadlines missed, two applications successful (jury still out on number 3). Looks like I should start applying for something bigger!! (My head?)
-- International rock climbing championship in bag. Workin on it. However, my new climbing shoes are not foot-bindingly tight enough. I can wiggle my toes slightly in them. This could slow my climbing career down. Also not anorexic.
-- New entry in Macquarie Dictionary for past tense verbs; "quitted". Stop the presses! Influence of blogs on modern English etc etc.
-- Interstate travel! Berlin, Hill End, Berlin, Hill End [insert 'weighing' hand gestures here). I know where I'D rather go!!
-- Studio. Am gettin one. A good one. Cheap. In which to make MASTERPIECES. Quibblers refer point number three.
-- Ennobling poverty scheduled for initial implementation around end of April.
-- Love. Room for that in maybe ... early 2008? Apologies for the inconvenience.
-- There's some other stuff. Art etc. Fine print. Supplement to the terms and conditions on its way in the post. If I have your address. And you registered for updates.

Everything I said to everyone about 2007 is true, so far. I'm not even scared of jinxing it. I'm practically like Mystical Medusarer! (Vague Wortwut? Not to self; get better thesaurus. Also new dictionary.) Some of these changes might appear to be subtle, but we insiders know that there is a paradigm shift a-sailing in the open seas.

I so don't know ANYTHING about blogging. La di da.

*Resolution was: apply for everything. Yep, there's pretty much NO reference to absinthe parties in this post.