I can see the signs of the new season. You hear talk of the great European and American nature poets and the effect of the seasons on their lives. Not just their lives, but everyone's. In some parts of the world the coming of winter means a whole lot more than just chucking on a jumper. The loss of the sun and the loss of that green seems at odds with what it is to be human. And when it's over the spring brings with it such elation - I can only pretend to understand as I listen to their season songs. 

The dramatic change of colour and atmosphere is something I've never truly experienced, but I still feel sudden joy when I notice Canberra shifting. Though here the signs of change are far more subdued and I can't precisely say what they are. Of course we see slick new buds swelling on the naked suburban tees, but there's something more, too. A cleanness in the air? A cold clear bite on a quick breeze? Some small new fragrance? 

 Spring Tree Puss Spring Puss Slick

Canberra 2014


This year I only got to see the lead up to spring, and on the first day of September I got on a plane and flew to Taiwan. I'm here to study my Masters. It's exciting being back at uni, after four years pretending I was still a student I can now actually call myself one! I'll be working on a project examining the role of art as a tool for cultural repatriation in Taiwanese society. I'll be using this blog for general updates on my work. 

I'm encumbered with many half baked ideas. Luckily my little flat has room for a small studio, which I've been attempting to set up this week. It means so much to have a studio. Really it's a place to facilitate the mind, a space in which thoughts become actions of the hands and body. Without such a place I feel less. 

So - first thing's first. Set up a studio and establish myself in it. There's no rush to make work at a time like this, I can relax and take things as they come. Walking is of greater importance than ever if I'm to get to know my new home. I feel like I have time, and I want to use it to breath this place in. I want the city to follow me into the studio. I want the work brought out into the streets and mountains. I don't know what the results will be yet - but I have the time to find out. 


We are living in the forest. The weather here is bad; but surly, cold clouds seem to make things special.The next change in the forest will bring an exiting type of permanence.

I have been making things that don't quiet fit together. These sculptures are sitting on my desk, their segments jutting out at uncomfortable angles when they should be smooth, seamless surfaces. Art always seems to be an effort of control. Not control of materials, which are perfect, but control of my own body. One day I hope to fully understand my hands, my movements.

I am fitting many things together. I am trying to form objects to suit all nooks and crannies. Some of these objects don't quite fit, but they are still beautiful, sublime. At times like this all I can do is know these objects, these feelings. Have them fill me, and engorged in beauty and love I am ultimately happy.

saying goodbye under enormous skys

I like to travel away from something and towards something else. This can be a person or place or atmosphere or shop, it doesn't matter as long as you do it with romance and melancholy.

Saying goodbye is not just loss, it also accompanies change; a passage to somewhere new. "Goodbye is a little like dying", but without it you're incomplete and cold long afterwards. I can't stand short goodbyes.

A friend said the year is finally beginning. It's about time.

in november

"During a short and violent thunderstorm Mymble had become completely and utterly electric. Sparks flew from her hair and every little bit of down on her arms and legs stood on end and quivered. Now I'm full of ferocity, she thought. I could do anything, but instead I'll do nothing. Isn't it marvelous to just do what one feels like. She curled up on the eiderdown, feeling like a tiny flash of ball lighting, a ball of fire." I think it would be an ideal project to make a body of work from Tove Jansson's writing. I can see just how beautiful it would be. I wonder if I will ever do it.


It feels like we are only a slight distance from the cold weather. At home in bed the house sounds like it might fall down. The rain is so heavy, the walls are so fragile. We are barely protected. But the house still protects me, and I'm very happy and very safe. "So Moomintroll went down the stairs, step by step, holding the lamp tightly. and reached the muddy floor at the bottom of the lighthouse. The door creaked as usual and it felt very heavy. He stood outside on the rock in the cold unreal moonlight. 'Isn't life exiting!' Moomintroll thought. 'Everything can change all of a sudden, and for no reason at all! The staircase is suddenly quite beautiful and the glade I don't want to think about any more.' Breathlessly, he walked over the rock, through the heather, through the little copse of aspens. They were motionless and quiet now, there wasn't breath of wind. He walked slowly, listening. The beach was quite quiet. 'I've frightened them,' Moomintroll thought, and bent down to turn off the lamp. "Whatever it is that comes here at night must be very shy. An island by night can be very scared.' Now the lamp was out and immediately the island seemed to come much nearer. He could feel it very close to him as it lay there motionless in the moonlight. He wasn't at all frightened, but just sat there listening. There it was; the sound of prancing steps in the sand somewhere behind the aspens. Backwards and forwards they went, down the beach and into the water; splashing about and making the foam fly. It was them. The sea-horses, his sea-horses. Now he understood everything. The silver shoe he had found in the sand, the calender with the moon dipping it's feet in the morning wave, the call he had heard while he was asleep. Moomintroll stood in the trees and watched the sea horses dance."

from Moominpappa at Sea by Tove Janson


nov 23, 2009, 12:21 pm - icy cold! nov 23, 2009, 12:22 pm - yeah i know, i think the worlds gone wrong

nov 23, 2009, 12:23 pm - It's just sick i think

nov 23, 2009, 12:26 pm - Yeah. :-(

nov 23, 2009, 12:26 pm - An SMS you tried to send or receive has failed as you are out of credit for that message type. Recharge now to allow further SMS messages to be sent or received