Neon & life
September 2, 2013 § Leave a comment
The show opening at Kings ARI in Melbourne went well. As with all installs there were anxious moments (mine) regarding lighting and balance between works, and horrible visions of broken neon all over the floor… I took lots of install shots with my medium format, and I should have that film back at the end of the week. My friend Karen took this with her Future Phone though:
Prophetess Mountain, 2013, Neon on aluminium, 150cm x 100cm, installation shot.
Working in this medium is interesting. I have some other ideas, but maybe fluros would be as good.
Coming back to Sydney on Saturday night, it is strange how silent and calm a plane full of people can be towards the end of the night. The row I sat in, had no window.
Yesterday I rode out to Cronulla and back, via Sans Souci and the green cycle paths through the mangroves. About 60km. There were some interesting smells of dirt and the sea, and the sun which made me think of Adelaide. The government there have been planning to tear down the house I grew up in, my father’s house, to widen South Road, a main trucking corridor. Dad says maybe this won’t happen if the libs get in the next election. Thinking about it makes me so sad… the house has featured in so much of my work, let alone my life.
“The smell of jasmine. The colour of the roof on the old boarding house in Eveleigh, the same red turned dusty pink in a warm sun set as my father’s house.”
Going to Tasmania soon, for MoNA, visit UTas and check out the art school there… possibilities. Still feeling like I don’t belong anywhere. But having the sun come in the door to my room is a comfort. My Yashica Mat 124 is being fixed as well, another camera for me to work with.
Next year Is Finland, Norway, Iceland, USA, UK… maybe Lithuania. Next month is the video works. One is about industry and repetition, and execution of tasks, one is the snow storm as celestial event. Two visitors soon. One from Iceland, one from the US.
I also saw my friend Lea Donnan‘s show at Kudos recently – this is what I wrote to her, ” It was mesmerizing, and yes a little emotional for someone who knows the town. There was also this.. aggressive futility to some of the actions – so overt, powerful, using cars, guns, big things – but then exposing fragile cracks, bodies absorbing a gun kick-back, the ice that crumbles while wrapped in a blanket, the refuse and things left behind…”
This has become a mish-mash… I won’t ever stop hating others until I stop hating myself.