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Archive for the ‘art’ Category

Tan Mr Cool.

Tan the man, Mr Cool.

The Ice Dragon.

Early stages.

Early stages.

 A slim Asian man looking after a photography exhibition at Robina library complex asked me which photograph I thought was the best. I chose a clear crisp picture of a white cockatoo in flight. He said “Thank you my name is Tan.” I introduced myself and we discussed photography. I then realized Tan had taken that photo. He shared his lunch of berries and vegetarian treats, a delightful change to my usual lunch.

Chain saw rips into the ice.

Chain saw rips into the ice.

That is how we became friends. Tan was very generous giving not only material things he shared his wisdom with me.

Taking shape hours of artistic action.

Taking shape hours of artistic action.

I think Tan had suffered a lot of racial prejudice, probably because of his talent and good ethics. Also Tan would not bend to please bigots or fools.
Visiting the Buddha’s Birthday celebrations at Southbank, Brisbane, I was surprised to find Tan carving a large dragon out of ice using power tools. Just another one of Tan’s many talents.

Detail.

Detail.

The picture of me and the Ice Dragon hangs in my room reminding me of many things. I learned from Tan and the Ice Dragon.
Our paths meet up only occasionally. Men rarely keep in contact but no matter how long it is when they meet again it is like yesterday.

The tail.

Detail now the tail.

Voyaging on the vast ocean of life ships may sail together in a fleet for a time then drift apart.  Reciprocity and commitment is needed for people to stay together for any length of time. If we are fortunate sailing in the same direction we find good company.
If the company is really good  we change course. So if you are fortunate enough to find a really compatible companion appreciate and change your way to suit. The scenic route may be longer but more enjoyable.

Tan was fully in the now.

Tan was fully in the now.

 The photo of the Ice Sculpture Dragon reminds me.

Out of the ice the dragon appears.

Out of the ice the dragon appears

Born in fire and made of clay.

I thought myself very clever.

To make a dragon that would last forever.

Your ice dragon will not last

But you are wise as well as clever,

Giving is how you get your pleasure.

Better and bibber than the pottery I did.

Better and bigger than the pottery dragon I did.

 We are aware an ice sculpture will melt and appreciate its beauty without clinging.

Tan smiles at his achievement.

Tan smiles at his achievement.

 It is not so obvious that all things change regardless of what they are made of.

The ice dragon made me more aware as it melted, that the joy of doing anything is to be absorbed in the delight of doing.

I no longer cling to my pottery dragon it has shattered. Not a smooth expected transition like the beautiful ice dragon as it melting.

I asked for a pose.

I asked for a pose.

We cling to a fragile memory that time will inevitably consume.

Reluctantly we must let our past slip into the abyss of time. Time is the ultimate winner.

 The ice dragon teaches pleasure is doing,

 joy is giving and that sorrow of cling.

This is my reminder of impermanence motivates me.

This is my reminder of impermanence that motivates me.

 

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Great pictures in side and out side Murwillumbah Art Gallery.

Great pictures in side and out side Murwillumbah Art Gallery.

A Fantastic Art Gallery.

The food and the views are great at the café.

The food and the views are great at the café.

You don’t have to die to go to heaven I am in heaven, live and pumping. I am back home on the Gold Coast biking down to the beach. There is about 20 km in  both directions from Burleigh of flat bike track adjacent to a string of beaches. I have been about six months without my pushbike and it is good to be back in the saddle and visiting my favourite gym just across the road from Burleigh beach.
There are beaches from Surfers Paradise, a tourist play ground, to Coolangatta and further on north and south.

This post is in the Tweed Valley a short drive from the beaches.

This house is in the Tweed Valley a short drive from the beaches.

It is call the Gold Coast because of the golden sand, or is it because of the bustling entertainment and commercial interest there.
This is the best of both worlds the American style theme parks and then there is the lush hinterland rain forest, the high escarpment has beautiful views of the coast.
It is only a short drive to Tweed with its lush World Heritage rain forests and dramatic mountain ranges and more unspoiled world-famous surfing point breaks beaches.

This spider has a wonderful view through a gallery window.

This spider has a wonderful view through a gallery window.

Journey along the road less travelled pass by tranquil waterways cane fields and dairy farms to picturesque little towns supporting art and craft community’s, it is a lifestyle choice that brings people to  live here.

This is hands on art.

This is hands on art.

Yesterday we, with friends, visited a remarkable art gallery nestled in the beautiful Tweed Valley. Visit Pauline’s blog to get a detailed view of this gallery.

As usual I got carried away, inspired by the project. I joined in the fun like all the other children.

I was feeling so inspired, encouraged by our two, too kind friends while waiting for lunch, I did some sketching.  Also for inspiration see Zeebra post for inspirational people.

Ball point on back of menu, some cappuccino wash.

Ball point on back of menu, some cappuccino wash.

We are now planning to do some trips back into the area to practice our art. As June is very talented and as you probably know Pauline has created some really beautiful paintings. As for Rex we will supply him with the equipment and we may get a surprise.
I will keep you posted and so will our pommepal.

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Why would this window interest a vegetarian?

Why would this window interest a vegetarian?

 I have not done a post for ‘Lingering Look at Windows’ for a while. But I have accumulated some photos  of windows, I will show you.

Turret windows.

Turret windows in an old shop.

When out with the camera I have a lot of thoughts on photography.  I used to take snap shots to show to family and friends. That was back when we kept photo albums and had to pay for film and developing and printing. I soon realised I was wasting my money, people are bored looking at your photo. For my own sake I still wanted to record the interesting things I saw and did. So I would just sketch to supplement my diary.  I used to really enjoy drawing. I would draw to fill waiting time, I suppose I could have just relaxed and meditated on breath. When you sketch your mind is focused, so it is like meditation. I suppose any thing can be like meditation if you are interested and in the ‘now’ that Eckhart Tolle talks about. Every thing has changed since I got hooked on digital photography. Let me show you.

From the top of Parliament house.

From the top of Parliament house.

This photo was from the roof of Parliament house just below the flag pole mounted on  a-frame columns that allows the flag to be seen for miles. From the roof you can also see for miles. You can see Telstra tower from here and the windows surrounding the court-yard garden. To show it all in one photo as if you were there and keep it interesting. The angles and squares to me make it interesting. Let me know if I succeeded.

A pyramid of windows.

A pyramid of windows.

Note the reflection of the a-frame supporting the flag pole. I like reflections and to show things from a different perspective. To me this is what life is all about, doing what you enjoy regardless of what the crowd think.

The pyramid of windows.

The pyramid of windows.

On the floor below we get another view. I like the angles surrounding the pyramid of angles. They complement each other, Canberra has some wonderful architecture. Melbourne art gallery in Federation Square was another memorable building I enjoyed.

You can see how I like odd angles.

You can see how I like odd angles.

   I like these windows the old lamp and the chimneys and all those angles delight my eye. I get a lot of enjoyment from my digital camera. The joy I used to get from drawing, the camera is just too easy. Drawing you really learn perspective and composition.

A charming old house in Goulbourn.

A charming old house in Goulburn.

 The negative shape of the sky and the nostalgic subject matter is what I like about this photo. The old familiar memories from child hood. We had no fantastic, modern structures then.

Note the cross in the window.

Note the cross in the window.

We did have, and still do have, those incredible cathedrals. Religious architecture of all faiths is superb, be it a mosque, temple or cathedral they are all beautiful and good places to find peace and quiet. I enjoy them all and belong to none. The above photo, I hope, draws your attention to the small and beautiful that is often over-shadowed by the magnificence surrounding it. The small things in life are what bring contentment to the appreciative.

A small Daffodil.

Three  small Daffodils.

Sometimes the small like to show off, I do not mind when they are daffodils. They do overwhelm the windows. This is not a good photo of windows. But it redeems itself as a pleasant photo, I think.

Simply a window.

Simply a window.

This is a photo of a window, no mistake about that. The thing I personally like about this window is the pattern in the glass. If you are interested I also have a post featuring some of my drawings. Reflections on windows. the drawing with the caption ‘Old Glass drawing to match the leaves.’ features this glass. This glass was used in the windows of my aunties bungalow by the ocean, where I spent happy childhood holidays. That was back around the beginning of the 40’s.

More reflections.

More reflections.

Craft-men built houses in those old times and took pride in what they were doing .

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ACT National Arboretum Canberra a Tribute to Nature.

Aboretum panorama 1.

Arboretum panorama 1.

These views show the immensity of this project it is far from established. Even at this stage it is well worth visiting. The work is still in progress for people and Mother Nature to complete the work. Nature is unmatched, by man’s hand and she cannot be rushed. I would like to see the forests when they are established in ten; twenty or thirty years (I will have to be lucky) The people who have dreamed up this whole project are  impressive artists in many fields. But like the poem by Joyce Kilmer.

Trees

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is pressed
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.

There are two exceptional sculptures and spectacular architecture.

 The sculpture is a tribute to Dorothea Mackellar and her poem, My Country. The start of this poem is appropriate to Pauline and I. To get a more comprehensive idea of the area and history hit this link to Pauline’s post. I am more interested in the sculpture and the tribute to Mother Nature.

Panorama made up of 3 photos by Pauline.

Panorama made up of 3 photos by Pauline.

The wide brown land sculpture that can be seen from many vantage points, the words are in Dorothea Mackellar’s hand writing. To me it is not a small achievement, it was a combined effort of skilled artist and craftsmen.  Imagine the marking out of the steel plates, the forming and welding the grinding and smoothing and the shifting into place.

 The Village Centre houses the Bonsai and Penjing collection and many other things of interest.

We walked into an established forest area and smelled barbeque cooking.  There was a man cooking at a powered barbeque and a lady. Click went my camera I like photos of people enjoying life.

I spoke to the man “I just took a photo of you and your lady she looked so at peace.”

“My wife is praying.”

“That’s nice I follow the Buddha’s path and meditate.”

“It is all good.” He replied.

“Enjoy. “were my parting word.

I thought what a nice couple appreciating nature in the peaceful forest, nature’s cathedral or mosque. As he said all is good. The wide brown land is a multinational land where people are generally accepting and respectful of each other’s customs and this enhances life with the different foods and a variety of dress.

Dorothea Mackellar was in London when she wrote the poem My Country. I often recalled the poem when I was working in New Zealand. New Zealand is a wonderful country but there is no place like home.

 

My Country.

The love of field and coppice,
Of green and shaded lanes.

Of ordered woods and gardens

Is running in your veins,
Strong love of grey-blue distance
Brown streams and soft dim skies
I know but cannot share it,
My love is otherwise.

Natures art.

I love a sunburnt country,
A land of sweeping plains,
Of ragged mountain ranges,
Of droughts and flooding rains.
I love her far horizons,
I love her jewel-sea,
Her beauty and her terror –
The wide brown land for me!

A stark white ring-barked forest
All tragic to the moon,
The sapphire-misted mountains,
The hot gold hush of noon.
Green tangle of the brushes,
Where lithe lianas coil,
And orchids deck the tree-tops
And ferns the warm dark soil.

Core of my heart, my country!
Her pitiless blue sky,
When sick at heart, around us,
We see the cattle die –
But then the grey clouds gather,

The Kiss.

The Kiss.

And we can bless again
The drumming of an army,
The steady, soaking rain.

Core of my heart, my country!
Land of the Rainbow Gold,
For flood and fire and famine,
She pays us back threefold –
Over the thirsty paddocks,
Watch, after many days,
The filmy veil of greenness
That thickens as we gaze.

An opal-hearted country,
A wilful, lavish land –
All you who have not loved her,
You will not understand –
Though earth holds many splendours,
Wherever I may die,
I know to what brown countryArboretum JC
My homing thoughts will fly.

Dorothea Mackellar

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What is name  this rose?

What is the name of this rose?

What’s In a Name?

Known to no one Jack plays for fun.

Known to no one Jack plays for fun.

Jack Caldwell is an ordinary name for an ordinary person. I can work and make this name into a name of acclaim and transform my ordinary self into an extraordinary person.  With hard work and perseverance, I have been told anyone can achieve this. It is this well-trodden path that many people choose, to make their name of acclaim.

Sam Baroo would play for you.

Sam Baroo would play for you.

Do I want to join the jostling crowd clawing their way to an inevitable end, no my friend. I do not want to look back down the steep, rugged trail to see a joyless journey. I would rather sing and dance, love and romance, in tune with the song of a bird. Painting a picture of contentment I can then depart without resentment.

With much more talent than Jack.

With much more talent than Jack.

To make a name for myself I will use imagination and make my own name by lateral thinking. From all the heroes of the past the name I choose must outlast, withstanding the test of time, a name outstanding, and sublime. I have the phone book in my grasp but all the names appear ordinary. No name that rings a bell that will resound to waken everyone around, a peal that is appealing bringing forth a joyous feeling. This name must chime throughout the land a name so wondrous and grand.

Still most people never look back.

Still most people never look back.

I will graffiti my words, every place one must visit, and sign my signature for all to see, so everyone will remember me. Words of wisdom I will write, you will recall them late at night, to fill your dreams of wondrous things. I will paint my way every day, in every alley and walkway. Signing my name for all to see and you will remember me, for my pictures and calligraphy.  As I travel far and wide my music will be heard it will inspire happiness and dance. I will sing and play my ukulele, when you hear my music, you will give credit to my pseudonym, and say Sam Baroo the incredible, plain Jack will be forgotten. There will be no ‘play it again Sam’.

This is not Casablanca, no one says Play it again Sam..

This is not Casablanca, no one says Play it again Sam..

Without a self I will have no ego, no driving force to goad me on, I will live in peace and contentment. Let Sam Baroo take all the credit. His fame will not be ever lasting time conquers all in passing and nothing is permanent.

Jack paints but never expects to be hung.

Jack paints but never expects to be hung.

Stand centre stage Sam ‘as you like it’ take your bows while Jack stands in the wings enjoying the performance. “All the worlds a stage”, said Jack.  Sam’s teeth, Sam’s eyes, Sam’s everything.

My kind of advertising.

My kind of advertising.

 A new type of rose could be called Sam Baroo. I wonder how many varieties of roses there were in Shakespeare days. It sounds like they all had the same sweet smell, but one named Montague was a problem;

Juliet had no aversion, “Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. “What’s Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man.”

This prompts me to say, “Where does that leave you Sam Baroo?”

A beautiful rose fits all occasions, both happy and sad.

A beautiful rose fits all occasions, both happy and sad.

Juliet would say, “O, be some other name! What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet;”

Could this be the daughter of Al Martino's Painted Tainted Rose.

Could this be the daughter of Al Martino’s Painted Tainted Rose.

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Get out and see the light.

Get out and see the light.

Windows are inciting opportunities.

Some one saw an opportunity here.

Someone saw an opportunity here.

Our dwellings should have many windows to let in the light. To live in a house with one window is to dwell in darkness.

Go around obstacles.

Go around obstacles.

Only looking out one window is to have a limited view. Fill your house with windows to see the world from different viewpoints.

Accept the challenges.

Accept the challenges.

I cannot see things as you do from where I am standing and you cannot see things as I do from your location. Maybe we should change positions and we would see things undistorted in true perspective.

The more windows the more the more you see.

The more windows the more you see.

The more windows the wider our outlook, to look out of only one window is to see only one side of our wondrous world.

See more than you REALEYES.

See more than you REALEYES.

The person with one window is like the person with only one book. They are limited in their views; one should never draw the curtains on other views. Look and see the many possibilities.

Lots of windows but some never look.

Lots of windows but some never look.

A house full of windows is a house full of light, light that makes it possible to see all viewpoints. Look out of every window and into every window to see the vast range of opportunity, to paint or photograph your beautiful picture.

There are many opportunities missed in hast.

There are many opportunities missed in haste.

 Build your house with many windows take the best from all view points and your wisdom will grow. Never limiting ones view from one window, one book, one country or one belief broadens your horizons.

Look everywhere and broaden any limited views.

Look everywhere and broaden any limited views.

Dawn inspired me to photograph windows. You may like to go to her site “The day after” to see what has inspired others.

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To see from a lookout you miss the intimate detail.

To see from a lookout you miss the intimate detail.

Chapman Drive Northhampton jc sx50 066_3000x4000 Chapman Drive Northhampton jc sx50 067_3000x4000

You have to look to see.

You cannot see how productive this land is from a car.

You cannot see how productive this land is from a car.

The renowned Western Australian wild flowers were at their best, after a wet season, three years ago on our last visit. Last week was the first significant rain they have had for two years in the area. The sky is now clear blue and the red dust is all caked and settled. Pauline is ready to roam the travel bugs are biting making her restless.

Slow up and see up close there is more than wild flowers.

Slow up and see up close there is more than wild flowers.

 There is a nice scenic drive from Geraldton, on the Chapman Valley Road, through the grain-growing area to Nabawa then on to the old town of Northampton. The brochure called it ‘The valley of natural charm.’ When the wild flowers are blooming, any city slicker would agree, even doing the legal speed limit of 110 km/hr., one cannot help but notice the colourful flowers.

A White Gum by the road.

A White Gum by the road.

There is a sign look-out, we take the rutted, washed out side track. Did we misinterpret that ‘look out’ sign? Pauline negotiates the rough and gets us safely to a plateau high above the road. It is a good view but quite a challenge to photograph.  The land has had a hard, hot and dry two years, we see tortured trees and acres of parched land, it is difficult to imagine waving wheat fields. Yet Geraldton is the second largest exporter of wheat in Australia.  Lupins and legume crops are also grown here.

Wouldn't this make a lovely painting.

Wouldn’t this make a lovely painting.

We stop to look at a little Anglican Church, it is closed, looks like it has not done much of the Lord’s business for a long time. Today we appreciate its beauty and the dedication the builders put into it. Man does some of his most wonderful works when religiously inspired and also some of his worst acts in the name of his religion.

Parked at the museum.

Parked at the museum.

 We find a nice place to park, in the shade of one of the old White Gums, at the Chapman Valley Museum, where the sign said open, but the doors were closed. We could see the old farm machinery, but I was more interested in the gum nuts. I love to see the trees in blossom, but nuts fascinate me. With their vast variety of shapes and patterns and the way they look silhouetted against the sky.

The shadow of the fence and the aged White Gums with the old Toyota parked, I thought made a good photo. How could I show their character and how these trees spoke to me of years of the weathers hard extremes endured to be shade for man and a home for a diverse range of creatures, birds and animals?

Let me show you natures inspiring abstract art

 and some creatures that find a home under the pealing bark.

Home and shelter to some a work of art to others.

Home and shelter to some a work of art to others.

 When the gum tree is injured it bleeds red sap that dries like red gem stones. I cannot show you, I can only point. You must look to see the wonders of nature. Slow down, the speed of modern life distracts us from much of natures gifts. You have to take the time to look, to see and not be distracted.

Time seems to pass quickly when you are interested. I removed a small piece of bark to see if anything was there. Surprise! A host of stink bugs scurried off. They were not easy to photo using macro, it did not matter if they were blurred, haste always blurs things, and the patterns and colour of the bark was so nice. I was having fun.

Then Pauline from the wagon said. “I am ready when you are.”  Once that may have excited me, but now it only roused me from my flirtation with Mother Nature.

Northampton has a lot of history with the lead mining and the building of the first public railway in WA. running from Northampton to Geraldton. The Church and convent are impressive buildings. I will leave them for Pauline’s blog. What interested me was the Family Store built in 1910 and still hardly changed from the stores I remember as child, thanks to the elderly couple running it.

Where is Mrs Wally?

Can you find Mrs Wally?

A room behind the store displayed the best collection of old sewing machines I have ever seen. We had only $1 in small change to put in the donation jar. In the store there was a wide array of merchandise on display. There was a sparkly coloured glass crystal necklace winking at me and asking me for $20. I did not need it, or want it, still I bought it. There are always times when a birthday is forgotten, it is handy to have some nice trinket on hand.

My mother had a 'Singer' like this.

My mother had a ‘Singer’ like this.

The owner said “You know this is not an antique, I bought it in Perth last week, do you still want it?” “No I do not want it, I am only buying it to see you smile and I would like to take your photo.”

The necklace and an ethical sales man.

The necklace and an ethical sales man.

 As the sun sank slowly in the west we arrived back home completing a round trip. To down load our photos and see how much of the day we have successfully captured.  Only a memory of some of what one can see if one looks.

He is not Love bug.

He is not a Love bug.

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An old favourite.

An old favourite.

No worries so simple.

Glass House Mountains.

Glass House Mountains.

We grow attached to things that are close to us. Not close like a pair of undies, not that kind of snuggly close. More the being together of a warm wooly jumper on a bleak winter day, the something or someone who shared the wins and the losses and kept you smiling when it was all up hill. Through the sun shine and storms, time takes its toll, the shine and sparkle diminishes but the fondness grows for the tried and true the familiar and reliable.

Softened by Nature.

Softened by Nature.

I am pleased with the fad that made faded, frayed and tattered jeans and other garments fashionable. Stressed furniture with artificial crackling and peeling paint showing the under layers became the in-thing. Now I can take pride in my old weathered and worn comfortable things that I find appealing, without feeling inferior to the upwardly mobile fashion conscious crowd. Not that it worries me what people think now that I have my ego subdued and under control.

Nature's art.

Nature’s art.

At twenty I worried about these things, at forty I lost interest in what they thought, at sixty I realized no one was even noticing me, at eighty I am pleased if people smile at the way I dress so I wear what is functional and comfortable.

Nature are is every where.

Nature’s art is everywhere.

Our friends will excuse our idiosyncrasies and we should not grieve over unjust criticism. Most of the things I worried about never happened. So is worrying a way to prevent misfortune happening?  I stopped worrying a long time ago and the answer is worrying does not help in any way.

Their passing is beautiful.

Their passing is beautiful.

I genuinely like things that Mother Nature has aged, mellowed and softened. Perhaps it is because it reminds us that all things are impermanent and wanting this to be otherwise can only bring sorrow.

Castles are gone the old dog remains.

Castles are gone the old dog remains.

 The child builds castles of sand the tide comes in, the child cries, that is one of the first lessons nothing lasts. Childhood passes also, have we learned we cannot cling to impermanent things. The flower blooms, fades and dies, the brilliant sunset fades into the dark night.

Past Reflections.

Past Reflections.

Nature’s lessons teach us not to cling and hoard but to freely share. The truth may well be, though I am well past my use by date, I still feel useful and am pleased I have not been discarded as worthless. I live in the now, sharing the good before it passes into infinity.

A beautiful fraim of a picture.

A beautiful frame for a picture.

There needs to be balance as one can get too fond of old things. I worked with a bloke; he was built like a brick chicken coop, but gentle as washing up liquid. One day to attract his attention I pulled on his shirt and a button popped off under the strain. The passive, massive man turned on me like a wounded buffalo, eyes flashing like hazard lights on a road train. He took off his shirt and tossed it on the floor shouting “You have wrecked my shirt!” “Sorry mate, I did not mean to, it’s an old shirt.” I should not have said it was old. “I’ve had that shirt since I was an apprentice, I only wear it on special occasions now.” He raved on about the places he wore that shirt, wakes and weddings, sporting events and music festivals. It took a lot of diplomatic bull dung to calm him down. Actually I did not say a word. I let him call me names that indicated I was far from dexterous and my mother let her heart rule her head. I used this opportunity to practice my exercise on staying calm under pressure. The fire burned down the pot went off the boil, he turned and left.

Dramatic departure.

Dramatic departure.

Next day I saw him and gave him back his shirt washed, ironed and with a new golden button in place of the lost one. I explained how sorry I was and returned his repaired shirt. He smiled and said he regretted losing his temper over an old shirt. “No worries the new button can remind you nothing lasts forever.” I said. He put out his hand in a gesture of friendship. I shook his hand and the rest of me stopped shaking. I felt so relieved and happy, over the moon as they say. I felt like laughing, so jokingly said “You were lucky I did not lose my temper too or you would have been in trouble.”  “Yes, I would have been up on a man slaughter charge.” He replied. We both cracked up laughing. It is so simple just do the right thing and you have no worries.

Natures amazing beauty.

Natures amazing beauty.

 

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Thailand memory.

Thailand memory.

Reflecting on Windows

Old glass to match foliage.

Old glass to match foliage.

 

Keeping a dairy was necessary when I was promoted from playing the game I loved, to being in charge. A fun way of earning a living became a responsibility. Maybe it was for the best, because walking around up on the steel, where the birds perch, is a young man’s job. I did not like writing a diary and reports; I had to have a dictionary in one hand and a pen in the other. It turned out it was not a bad thing, as my vocabulary increased and my English improved. Keeping a diary became a habit.

First sketch of window inspiration. .

First sketch of window inspiration. .

When I travelled I had a record, as this was my personal diary, I did not have to use a dictionary and could do a few drawings instead of words. Pictures really are worth a lot of words. I entered all kinds of ideas and notes, anything that took my fancy as entertaining, worthwhile or wise.

Carried further ink and a splash of colour.

Carried further ink and a splash of colour.

When waiting for transport, or any occasion when time was dragging, out would come my diary, or whatever was at hand, and I would draw something. This drawing was a habit I formed that has now been replaced by the digital camera habit. I still have many of these diaries now, or as I have come to call them “Jack’s Jottings”.

Pastel on brown paper bag.

Pastel on brown paper bag.

Going through the archives of “Jack’s Jottings” I found these sketches. I thought them suitable for the “Lingering look at  windows” and timeout for art challenges. The window with the old glass and the curtains blowing was drawn in a little place Pauline and I shared at Stradbroke Island. The other window drawings were done in Roma Street backpackers in Brisbane. The drawings bring it all back, not much of a view, but that was the challenge, to make something of it. When you draw you notice things you would normally over look. I noticed those reflections in the high rise building. Then the imagination went into top gear. Ever since drawing those reflections I have been hooked on reflections, noticing them everywhere. Nature is the best artist.

The camera gets in on the act, to see how it actually looks.

The camera gets in on the act, to see how it actually looks.

For me doing art work is only a way to pass the time and make me more aware of the wondrous beauty all around me.

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 The art of enjoyment.

Rosny Cottage front view.

Rosny Cottage front view.

 

I avoid work yet I have got a lot done. I rarely ever toiled doing something I do not want to do. I have played all my life. As boy I enjoyed helping my mother on our poultry farm. It was a pleasure feeding the fouls. Chickens are a joy to look after. On cold nights our chickens were kept warmed by the heat of an oil lamp. It was nice and warm in the brooder shed and Mum let me sleep in there so I could stop those fluffy yellow chickens from huddling and crushing up too close to keep warm.

 

Rosny Cottage as sketched no inhansment.

Rosny Cottage as sketched no enhancement.

I was not all that happy about school education. I only did seven years interrupted by as many excuses as I could find. I liked the social side of school as I was the biggest boy in my class consequently I never experienced any bullying.

Back view and a seat to use while drawing.

Back view and a seat to use while drawing.

My first steady job was in a bakery that was a nice job the smell of bread baking is one of my favourite smells.  Up early you never miss a sun rise, and that is a good habit to get into, baking completed you have plenty of daylight left to play.

Back view artistic licence taken with stone wall.

Back view artistic licence taken with stone wall.

Then I found a livelihood I loved and Rigging became my game. Before the safety regulations, now carried to extremes, spoiling a challenging job. When a man could climb around on the steel without being unencumbered by a safety belt and ride the crane hook I enjoyed being a dare-devil now the young have to do things that endanger others to get their buzz.

Photo of sketch no enhancement.

Photo of sketch no enhancement.

What I am getting around to saying is, “Find something you like doing and you never have to work for a living.” Rigging was my game out in the fresh air getting good exercise and some excitement and being paid to do it. When I becoming an overseer I enjoyed passing on easy safe ways to get the job done. I held classes on wet down time days, making them into productive days.

Some P C help.

Some P C help.

Art, if you can call what I do art, is just another game I playing with the things available at hand, in the now absorbed in art. Let me show you the fun I had with my drawing, for me it is all learning.

Sketched with 4B and 8B.

Sketched with 4B and 8B.

I learn to be more observant trying to record what is before me with a simple sketch pad and pencils. You can use all the range if you like. From H being hard to B black softer and darker to B 8 there is no end to how you can play and learn. I play with whatever is at hand.

Flowers inhabced.

Flowers enhanced.

Without a printer I used my camera to convert my sketch to the computer. Now the fun starts it needs a bit of contrast, Photoshop is used.

Then why not have a game with the other tools available, learn what these graphic designers use to make their advertising look irresistible.

Added enhancement, same drawing.

Added enhancement, same drawing.

Explore more with the yellow and green highlighter pencils could give my flower a lift, may be?

Colour added with high lighters.

Colour added with high lighters.

Now that prompts me to head further into unknown territory. Why not, what is life for but to try to puzzle out, appreciate and enjoy.

Potoshop fun my art all done..

Photoshop fun my art all done..

     Thanks Lisa for the opportunity to offer some ideas for Time out for art.

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