It is appropriate for the earth element to be represented by something that is visually heavy, solid, grounded, and has strength.
This abstract watercolour references rock, soil, and chalk in yellow, oranges, red, brown, and white. Metals of gold and silver. Amethyst, emerald, and plants are shown in purple and green.
The poem reflects on changes to my body living life on Earth, the planet.
Sweaty Betty body blues
‘I can’t live if living is without you’* ear worm………
Why is it dry, oily, and moist? Are they sunspots, freckles, liver spots or moles? When and why did the lines, wrinkles, crows feet, and crêpe texture first appear? Surely not from rare UK sunny days or coconut oil frazzled lobster red to peeling brown trips abroad? Or from living in antipidean glare?
Journeyed from Johnson’s lotion slathered babe Through acne ravaged, Clearasil cleansed teen, Twenties, thirties, forties; Clarins, Lancaster, Clinique treated T zone, factor 10 to 30 suncream To fifties, sixties; Simple, Nivea, Olay, spf 50+ sunscreen, and shade.
Joie de vivre patina of itches scratches, burns, grazes, cuts, bites, blackheads, blisters, blemishes, bruises, fungal rashes, warts, tags, scars, ingrowing hairs and whiskers, and blocked pores. And, Yo-yoing weight stretches, sagging wobbling rolls and folds loosening; losing battle against gravitational pull and aging.
atop inanimate entity lithe life lazily lurks a striped Saint Andrew’s Cross spider silently sits in stealth secure subterfuge awaiting lunch to land linger and never leave
When travelling to and from work, I have backpacked: laptop, headset, headphones, compact umbrella, face masks, cotton bags, hand sanitisers, tissues, wallet, keys, key card, pens, pencils, eraser, sketchbook, propelling pencil. When possible, capture moments. The following and sketch above filled fifty minutes.
when one is really quite weary how dreary dearie surreptitiously seeking inspiration questions no right asking even if strong featured person opposite is known consciously combined cosmetics for commuting? muted tones without shading to avoid notice? only one or one of many masks?
i feel different perhaps it is losing weight being comfortable in thirty eight inch waist chinos from a different pre-covid state surviving the sacrificed shirts faded frayed familiar from Brooks Brothers operations in North America sadly no more stores in Australia there is a lightening of mind of spirit of outlook of something maybe it is the pink blushed clouds against a brightening sky rather than nowhere in sight there is a modicum of hope glimmering against backdrop of self doubt easier to rest on my laurels thoughts vacillate between can can’t worth worthless i will finish the application(s) submit ahead of the deadline i will win the new role(s) i will make the pertinent decision it will be interesting fulfilling enjoyable motivating work after all Spring has sprung
Emerge from Central gloom into a brash world. Persevering down pain filled steps, Hunched against chilly drizzle, I am engulfed by swishing traffic And beep beep crossing noises To traverse Creek Street.
Epiphanic; time and raindrops slow Gaze catches a leaf of coffee shade Resolutely reclining in the gutter. Dew bejewelled before dusky rose kerb Gold, ruby, sapphire, amethyst Shimmering in the spartan morning rays.
In minds eye, the moment lingers While crossing over Ann Street, During descent of Creek Street, And left into Adelaide Street, Ad infinitum The image remains to this day.
Inspired by the 21st century couturier, Iris van Herpen at Queensland’s GOMA (Gallery of Modern Art), Brisbane, I present a modest collection of organic poems and images from the exhibition.
Abstract watercolour and ink painting from a few weeks ago
On Thursday, I was thrilled to receive lovely feedback about my paintings and poetry. I was inspired to wax lyrical, below is the result.
Seasons shift
The southern freeze hasn’t arrived, yet, Stepping out into a chilly ten degrees Elicits a soft billowy cloud. Echoes abound in the pre-dawn inky silence, Like deep squeak footsteps in snow. A trail of taillights illuminate the Trip from home to train. Others whoosh past us on their daily paths. Clearing the trees, the ice white edifice stands resolute. It’s cold magnetism lures commuters into it’s depths. Thankful for a black, long sleeved layer, My thoughts link back to the dark decades, Of deliberate anonymity and self discovery; Uniformed in raglan and denim. Compromise tempered the giving into temptation. Onboard, the sleek serpentine capsule streaks, Illuminating the slumbering surrounds. The warmth of sms’ from home and online messages Soften and brighten the journey as the seasons shift.
These sketches of tubes of watercolour were a step towards the current period of painting.
2022 twisted tube sketch
Today is a a public holiday in Australia. Anzac Day is a day of remembrance in Australia and New Zealand that honors the members of the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps (ANZAC) who served and died in wars, conflicts, and peacekeeping operations. It’s observed on April 25th each year to commemorate the landing of ANZAC troops at Gallipoli during World War I. It’s a solemn day marked by ceremonies, marches, and paying respects to those who sacrificed for their countries.