Friday, April 23, 2010

I painted 'Flame-red' across the edges then smudged and left.

I see her paintings up against the walls. The few piled on the floor aren’t easy on the eyes. They will sell for less. The brush strokes are too impartial and heavy on the canvas. There is strain in the details and you can see she was impatient at the time.  I am no art critic but I have a good eye (she tells me).  Favoritism is interesting.  But if I were to say biasedness is interesting we have a problem.  The correct word is ‘bias’ but I will justify my sentence by reason of style. At least I am not in politics. 

I see she painted her chipped nails black. She pointed towards me. She gestured waving to come over and meet people, she knew people. I scratched at the skin around my nails and waited. It is commonly told that people who tend to bite their nails are nervous or upset. I was neither but I was restless.  I turned my shoulders down as though I was concentrating on something on the floor.  I could see from the corner of my eye she was still in the distance and continued to gasp at her words and wave her hands about in delight.  I always thought she bubbled her words.  I am not sure if you can say that?  But it was like each sentence began with the bottle cap of a soda popping off while bubbles and sound floated up towards the surface. Odd analogy I know but this was it, it was always a little odd.

She started to sound a bit muffled as she paced around the room.  I looked around, she had gathered a crowd of people around her. I watched her black ponytail bob up and down as she explained something I couldn’t quite hear.  I moved slowly around the room with my head tilted towards the right.  I watched a group of students on a guided tour, stroll past each painting with one or two stopping to scratch down notes and show their appreciation.  Do we pause to acknowledge that we have been affected by what we see? I am not sure I have always walked a little aimlessly concentrating more on the blurb below. I stood there in the corner reading her descriptions I have always needed the summary of words.

We were slowly ushered into the second room. The temporary plasterboard walls were painted ‘prime-time’ blue. I stood close to the edge of what soon became a passage way from the back of the room to the stage. There was a track of metal halide lights suspended above the stage. I was happy to notice no flickering of red and blue beams but a constant warm white. As I stood on my tip-toes I could see instruments sitting up against each other but nothing else. I moved closer to the right wall to avoid the constant stampede of liquid filled cups and shuffling feet. I watched three people to the left of me, they stood three abreast. They wore plaid vests, dark green pullovers and a look that gave a feeling of not trying. Their movements kept me looking to the left, a constant nodding of the head, rigid back and swaying knees. Strange but oddly suitable. After eighty minutes all three walked down the corridor three abreast and sat outside on the grass patch. I ambled along behind the rest and waited outside, there was a gathering of groups sprawled across the open grass.

I still had one of her paintings clutched under my arm. It was bulky and the squared corners keep prodding me in my ribs. I kept it covered with an old sheet from my car and then left with the painting.  The next morning I found the painting on the floor pushed up against the side wall. Her fingers had stained the edges a dark orange.  I found a trail of ash and chain-smoked cigarette butts left in a broken coffee mug outside. I liked this painting. I climbed up and left it leaning against the wall high on top of a chest of draws.  I locked the door behind me, left the keys under the coffee mug and left for work.

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

I have an intense craving 'for'.... something.

I am an 'avid reader'. No but I wish I read more.  I like to walk in and out of bookshops making little or no noise. I take comfort in seeing novels that I have flipped through and finished. I sometimes will press my index finger over the hard-back covers. A mental record of things we have wanted to complete or maybe just to feel more familiar in a place filled with words, language and speech. I leave with a recycled paper catalogue. I wish to read more.

I am an avid adventurer. I have had a bite of bungee at victorious heights (Vic Falls) but no I am not an avid adventurer.  We sit in numerous white-wall rooms throughout our lives having to sum-up our greatest feats in less that ten words.  I sit tenth in-line of a room filled with brash uni students, waiting for my tutor who is no older than myself to ask me to share my greatest feat. I pause for a moment and then remember oh yes, "I bungeed". It is easier to have the answers ready to questions that will determine who we are, what we do, and where we are going. I am fearless? No I am terribly scarred of heights.  And on that nice day waiting for my legs to be tied together and nervously trembling my life away he yelled, "One Two Three Bunjee" And I jumped.  However, the balls of my feet cannot claim to have travelled much further than the truth.  I will go away this year, I want to clock more hours on my feet while I can. I am twenty-seven. I am still not an avid adventurer.

I have an avid ambition to live each day to the maximum. It feels as cliche to type the words as it does to say it out loud.  But I still find myself reading glossy resolutions that are designed to help you truly achieve a satisfying life in the New Year : Learn yoga with a group of girl-friends, join a network of food enthused individuals, find time for myself, unclutter your life starting with you wardrobe. I have questioned the effects a polaroid on my fridge would have to my health? I have a weakness to writing lists and find myself drawn to reading up on others.  I bullet note items when I leave home even the simple ones such as: phone adaptor, shower cap, empty fridge. I am untrusting of my memory or terrified to forget.  I am a creature of habit with no time for yoga on my list of things today.

I have an avid need to things. I need a Diana F+ Camera. (  'Dating back to the early 1960s, the all-plastic Diana camera is a cult legend - famous for its dreamy, radiant, and low-fi images'. Ten Golden Rules quoted:
1. Take your LOMO with you wherever you go
2. Use it all the time, at any time - day or night 
3. Lomography does not interfere with your life, it's a part of it 
4. Get as close as possible to the objects of your lomographic desire 
5. Don't think (William Firebrace) 
6. Be fast 
7. You don't have to know what's going to be captured on your film
8. You don't have to know what's on the film afterwards either 
9. Shoot from the hip 
10. Don't worry about rules

Yes I am sold. The golden list says it all.