Farmers etc

November 21, 2014 § 1 Comment

I am still set on my idea of wayfinding and placemarking as the topic for any eventual PhD I attempt to do. I am still going through all the images from my trip to Finland, Scotland and Iceland.

There is this residency in the Arctic I have been eyeing off for years. Maybe this is the time I actually apply. I don’t know.

The below are all from series Farmers 2014.

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Farmers | Bændur

September 18, 2014 § Leave a comment

The autumnal country of Skagastrond in Iceland and the young women who live there.

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Monuments to decay

August 10, 2014 § Leave a comment

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Monuments to decay, installation, hand gathered wildflowers, deadwood and ruins. Mustarinda, Finland 2014.

Looking forward to showing similar work in Adelaide in early October.

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Camera. Finland and the mist.

Abandoned | hylätty

July 15, 2014 § Leave a comment

I do a lot of walking/riding around as far as I can get – the roads are rocky and hilly, so my boundaries are not as far flung as I would like. On a recent ride I came across two abandoned and derelict buildings, one which is now just the worn down walls and foundation, with trees and plants growing in it like a makeshift botanic garden.

The second house has a circular area, almost like a grotto, which remind me of the Norman Lindsay house in the mountains in Sydney. I would like to make a work here.

There are so so many mosquitos that being spontaneous doesn’t really work. you have to slather yourself in mosquito repellant and wear, as I have started doing, a combat jacket, boots and a hat with a mesh wrap around head covering. I sort of look like a militarised bee-keeper.

I wish the mosquitoes had been outlined more. There may be mosquitos! No, there will be hundreds of them, swarming to every inch of bare skin not covered in repellant, and they will weed through your hair to sting your head. you will find it impossible to go for walks, rides, swim in the lake (whcih we did and then assaulted by mosquitos as our ward-off had slithered off in the water).

Swimming in the lake was fun but so nerve-wracking. Though I remember times in the tubes in the Murray River as a child, tethered to Nana’s houseboat, a persistant fear has grown in me of surrendering myself to the abyss of blackness, where things lurking are about to slide against your leg or bite your arse at any time.

Tonight I took three photographs on film before surrendering to the mosquito attack. I cant pretend its not frustrating.

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lakeswim

Midnight Sun

July 12, 2014 § Leave a comment

For M.

When I was in Iceland, towards the end of May, the time between sunset and sunrise became smaller each day. We used to look at the weather report and see the times inch closer to each other. The period of “night” became something like an hour or an hour and a half before I left, a quiet blue.

It feels here that it becomes “dark” or the point of least incidental light at around 12:30pm. The pull towards darkness begins at about 10:30pm when you see the long point of the sun just above the horizon and this shear of light gleams across everything and passes over the tops of the trees outside my window. There is a slice of peach to pink to purple in the sky then, sitting against the horizon, soft and beckoning, before it fades to the beautiful blue.

That blue colour draws down from the top most point of the sky, the shift is slow but total. The trees change colour, the ground changes colour, as does the building. There is a sheen of blue almost like an aura, and it surrounds everything. The contrast is low, and some far away objects become indistinct. Even sounds feel like they become blue, or crisper, with the slightest metallic edge. The wind in the trees carries and it sounds like water against the shore.

But there is still the light. The sky is opaque, that is how it feels, or like a pearl with that gleam, perhaps like blown glass –  it has this colour as if it were an object and I could place my hand against it.  There is enough light that bees still work amongst the flowers. The light promotes a restlessness. i am constantly looking through my blinds, watching the shift, trying to recognise the point when it is dark.

The air is cooler of course, and being outside at this time confuses me. The ground is cool against my feet, it is very quiet and still. My mind recognises the signs that say this is darkness, but of course it is not. i want to explore but I am scared. I do not know if animals are affected – do they come out at this time, are they less afraid? What might i fail to see? But I am also drawn – these blues are hypnotic.

I am scared my cameras will not capture this light. I have taken some with the phone camera, but they do not show the blue as all pervasive. These were taken variously from 10:30pm and 12:30pm last night.

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Komulanköngäs waterfall & and

July 9, 2014 § 4 Comments

Yesterday I was a bit stir crazy. The isolation here is different to Iceland, as this isn’t just an area of remoteness, but an area remote from the already remote. There are several bikes here, but most have completely flat tyres, or pedals falling off. It took me the longest time to find a pump. One bike was in ridable condition after doing up the tyres, and I took off for the 14.5km round journey to the falls.

The road is gravel for half of the way, so it was slow going. The trip there is on the decline, so the ride back was quite a punish, but I did make it.

The falls themselves were interesting to a point, but I am so jaded lately (depression, preoccupation, mediated expectations, sickness) that I did not stay long, that and the bugs were out in force. The river splits in two (I am not sure if this is natural or man-made) before going over the falls. The smaller of the two streams has a mill built over it, so that the water funnels down a runway, which presumably powered the old mill.

This area is now set up for camper/walkers and has the obligatory wood shed and campsite/picnic table – however it also has a traditional wood sauna free for use – so I have suggested we all go in the van one day and make a fire and eat and have a sauna, and maybe we can run to the lake at the bottom of the falls (though I am petrified of lake/river swimming).

I really loved the ride down the big hills of the main road, it felt nice to have the cool wind over my body and through my hair. it was essentially just me on the road, four other cars in total, and they speed by and are gone like that – ghost people.

One thing about here is language. there are three Finnish people, two Germans and a Czech girl. No-one speaks English very well, so well all communicate in a pidgin, which makes it hard to have sustained conversations or really express my ideas or thoughts very well. I use gestures more. The czech girl must feel like me, as we do not have someone to speak with in our common tongue, so it becomes lonely and isolated.

Remoteness through language.

Remoteness through distance.

My heart is all over the place and I am struggling (?) to find a place of comfort and assuredness to settle. Its not so much knowing what my feelings are, but being able to keep them safe while I carry on with these other things in my life. It is hard not being able to have conversations. There is also the newness of everything that makes all emotions sharper, making me overthink things and push them more than they need to be pushed. I hope it gets easier.

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Mechanics of work

July 8, 2014 § Leave a comment

The start of a reading list, looking at work, bodies, industry, machines and machination/mechanical process,particularly in primary industries. If you have any suggestions – please leave a comment.

  • The Trouble with Wilderness; or, Getting Back to the Wrong Nature from Uncommon Ground: Rethinking the Human Place in Nature – William Cronon
  • The perception of the environment. Essays on livelihood, dwelling and skill – Tim Ingold
  • Work and the Body in Hardy and Other Nineteenth-Century Novelists – Elaine Scarry
  • Some moral and technical consequences of automation – Norbert Wiener
  • The Human use of Human Beings: Cybernetics and Society – Norbert Wiener
  • Industrial work and life. An anthropological reader – Mao Mollona
  • Humans, Animals, Machines Blurring Boundaries – Glen A. Mazis
  • Copying Machines: Taking Notes for the Automaton – Catherine Liu