Saturday, July 23, 2011
These bark painting depicts the Lorrokon or 'Hollow Log Ceremony'. The works are painted by Charlie Djinmalala Brian from Buluhkarduru Arnhem Land in 1999.
In the works above, Charlie reveals boldly the bone, hollow log and kapok forms that are the elements of Bone Dreaming. These forms are part of the story, the Rarrk pattern between the forms is the coded element of the story. The Rrark has a private and public face to it, as the artist constructs the work using ochres and a bush brush made from local fibres the artists retells the story, thus illustrating the craft and the story to an initiated apprentice like a member of his family. In these paintings there are hidden or sacred elements that have been painted in, which are only visible to those who have been initiated to the story.
While in Arnhem Land I watched artists in camps working slowly through the density of the lines, discussing elements with others, revealing and concealing the scared.
The last Hollow Log burials were done over 30 years ago.
These works were purchased in 2006 and they sit nicely with our ever expanding 'Bone Art Collection'.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Well do I know thee trusty Yew,Cheerless unsocial plant, that loves to dwell.Midst skulls and coffins, epitaphs and worms,Where light healed ghosts and visionary shades,Beneath the wan cold moon (as fame reports),Embody’d thick perform their majestic rounds,No other merriment, dull tree is thine.
Robert Blair 1743
Saturday, July 16, 2011
'Trace' has wrangled these toy horses out of a Gordonvale Op shop.
Apart from talking to rocks, she is a horse whisper too, bring in the ponies babe.
Some of my first and strongest memories of growing up are of horses around the farm at Allansford near Warrnambool.
The farm was home to a number of horses.
All the horses had special powers. Pixie was in a league of her own, she was blind. It was truly magical to watch Pixie run the length of the paddock with Fred and Bill leading her from the windmill to the tree line. My Grandfather's horse Roger was a working beast. He would bring in the Jerseys' with my Grandfather cracking the whip to get them mooing in the right direction. Then there was the 4am rise, donning a beanie to head off to gymkhana's across Western Victoria with Aunty M competition horse Banachek.
Horses are like giraffes when your a kid, all legs. I was told early on, 'never walk around the back of a horse otherwise you'll get a wallop from the back legs'.
Horse are fun to ride but there are things you should not do. Pretending to be a knight and asking your bro to pass up a broom while sitting on the famous Curly is a bad idea....Curly does not like cleaning, he bucks bad.
Horses are magical and their poo makes some of the best ammunition after cow poo.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
I made a lunge for the cream and jam on toast treat and conjured up this wicked little masterpiece.....dedicated to Gerhard Richter........Yummy abstraction.....Toasty realism.......
thanks Trace for pulling out the sweet stuff.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Saturday, July 09, 2011