Brain Tree

In my brain is a tree. 
Its trunk is the brain stem,
its leaves are thoughts, a myriad of them, 
many that look the same. 
Its roots spread out along the byways 
to the very edges of me where they take in 
air and sunshine and sustenance.
The trunk divides in two, one leader 
in each half of my brain, and in each, 
amid the complications of branches is a crow. 

They sing. 

Now, you may not recognise the voice of a crow 
as song because they’ve had a bad wrap, 
but they sing of sunshine and wings, grubs, 
the dank delicious flesh of the freshly dead, 
and they sing of love and babies, just like we all do. 

And what they sing with, is air, like the air 
on the intricate surface of our skin 
or in each alveoli of our lungs, 
the air that courses through 
all of those byways of brain and body, 
and trunk and leaves. 

No wonder they sing. Wouldn’t you?

Edges

The performance poem I wrote for the exhibition, Solastalgia, at Fabrik, in Lobethal. More details about this series of exhibitions, here.

The drawing is mine, drawn with charcoal from my burnt home. It ended up being about 13 metres long on the beautiful wall of this gallery. It is as ephemeral as my home apparently was, and will be washed off that wall eventually. But all kudos to Melinda Rankin (director of Fabrik) for facilitating it.

Also kudos to all of the people involved in the exhibition, especially Jo Wilmot (creator of Solastalgia, The Exhibition) and Evette Sunset who said I mentored her when it was the other way around. We all learn from each other anyway, so who needs labels.

Thanks to my good friend David Salomon of Simply Splendid Productions for recording and creating this movie.

Charcoal Drawing With No Name (detail)

Charcoal Drawing with No Name

My drawing on the wall at Fabric, Woollen Mills, Lobethal, till 15th March. The exhibition as a whole is simply beautiful. Delicate, gentle, powerful, and healing. (Mine was certainly cathartic to do.) I’ll do another presentation of my performance poem and a reading from the book published for the exhibition at 2.00 on the 7th and 15th of March. On the 7th I’ll also do an artist talk.

It is close to 13 meters long! Perhaps it should be called, ‘Before, During, After’. But it is not. It is called ‘Charcoal Drawing With No Name’, because when I had to name it, I didn’t actually know what I would do. But I like the name and stick by it.
Directly on the wall using charcoal from our place. I did bring commercial charcoal, in case the natural stuff was too difficult to work with, but I didn’t have to use it. I rather like to work with materials that are not predictable anyway. It makes the process more dynamic and that dynamism usually shows I think.
Inch ants. Of course THEY survived!
Only a few days after the fires we saw a couple of Rosellas. The depiction of the Xanthorrea is at about two months afterwards.
We haven’t seen our echidna, but apparently they often survive. They burrow down and their spines can burn and they can be ok. That’s why this one has a flat top. We only get up there in the middle of the day so won’t see a lot of creatures. Definitely there is a kangaroo. and we have seen two koalas.
This is not a koala.

Longing

This was a few years ago now. He’s probably forgotten what ‘me-me’ is by now. I wonder if there is a deep longing, the source of which he’s forgotten.

I’ve got one of those unexplained longings. It’s strongest after sun down. I doubt it has anything to do with my mother, but who knows? What I want, what we all want, is a deep abiding connection. To each other. To the world. Maybe the last time we felt a connection like that was at our mother’s breast.

Ink and mess-making demonstration

So. Did my Artist in Residence spot yesterday. What does one demonstrate? It needs to be something that you can do and talk at the same time and that is not necessarily easy because while one is using the spacial areas of the brain it is really hard to talk. That’s why, while driving, if someone cuts you off or does something funny, you have to stop talking.

So I decided to play around with ink. Abstracts and mark making, what it does well and what different types of ink, blotters and paper can do.

And then of course is the masterpiece that is the blotting paper. Sometimes more interesting than the intended things.

but this, actually, sums up the idea behind the day:

and that’s not a complaint. I love being a performing seal. (Thanks Warick, per kind favour Rose, for the wording)