Taking a break from boxes

The pile of boxes is growing smaller. Shelves and drawers have been rearranged several times as each new box is opened. All the stuff that should have been disgarded before moving is going into the St Vinnies box. The furniture is moving around too, finding its sweet spot.The boxes and boxes of art supplies, frames and completed work have not found their place yet. It will take a while

Tomorrow I take a break and go back to art class. I have a late night session. This photo below was taken recently on the way home from class.

Open a box ...

and out hops a kiwi.

In our first year sculpture class at Dunedin Art School we had to learn to use lathes and electric saws without cutting off our fingers and this little kiwi was the result. A friendly fellow don't you think?

Boxes and more boxes.

Its here! My furniture has arrived from Dunedin without major mishap. After three and a half months of living with minimal stuff, the house is now overflowing with boxes.

Tonight I have a comfy and warm bed. What bliss.

Roman sings

Life brings nice surprises. In 2009 I drew a musician playing an unusual instrument in the streets of the village of Rissen in Hamburg. A little crowd gathered and the musician stopped to tell us his instrument was a Bandura and that he was playing in the village to say thank you to the local people for enabling his stay in Germany. His name was Roman Antonyuk.

Today I heard from Roman and it turns out he not only plays but sings. He sent me a pair of YouTube videos. Here is is singing a Mozart aria:



In the second video he is singing Арія Остапа

If I had known he could sing as well as play when I saw him in Rissen I would have requested an aria.

The String Contingent.

If you see The String Contingent advertised, go and have a listen as they are worth the effort. I saw them (a trio of Double Bass, Guitar and Violin) in Woy Woy a couple of weeks ago and was captivated by their music.

Now I have made a little video using a piece of music they composed and played.

Visible history

The door. Once it was cream, then dark blue, then pale blue.  (Now it is white)

Back to canvas

I am back to painting on canvas. Time just disappears when I have a canvas instead of walls to paint. Makes me realise how I love it. The image below is a little bit of a violinist on blue background.

Pink to white

Pink pink pink. Pink walls, pink ceiling, pink lampshade, pink floor. No, not pink floor, but the pink walls and ceiling made the floor seem pink too.

The second bedroom of my little cottage was not only very pink but also in need of a bit of TLC. So I got out the white filler-stuff and patched up all the holes and cracks (very satisfying that) then painted the ceiling white. I used white 'decking' ceiling paint I found in the garage (thank you my predecessors) hoping it might have very good coverage and only need two coats. It had ... and it did.

Then I painted the walls white. Joy, oh joy, it only needed two coats to cover the pink, not four coats like the blue bedroom. It took next to no time in comparison.

The pink bedroom is a warm white, the blue bedroom is a cool white and both rooms are now waiting for pictures to arrive on their walls.

Is it a whale?

Is it a whale with a rock on a white sand beach?

Is it a beach and some stones?

Or the view out of an aeroplane window?

Is it a seascape? Odd sort of boat.

Or a misty snow landscape?

A boat... a whale... a landscape ... a seascape.

From paint.

Off my door.

Lawn of Sasanquas

The sasanqua tree in my garden is so tall I had not noticed it flowering but now suddenly my lawn is clothed in white sasanqua blooms.

They remind me of my courageous and now exhausted friend who has spent the last five weeks caring for her Mother. Her Mother died of mesothelioma last week.

White, all white

Four coats of white paint and finally the blue bedroom has been transformed ...

... into a white bedroom. In my minds eye I can see the pictures hanging there and ...

and the people who bought the curtains and the bedcover on eBay say they are delighted with their purchases.

Our daily bread...

Ever since I worked in plant breeding I have despaired of humanity's chances of survival. The systems we have created seem to be incapable of protecting us from the real nasties. Imagine a seed crop modification company so big and aggressive that everyone is afraid of it:  farmers, scientists, the media. The media don't publish stories about the many farmers who suicide because of the problems this seed has caused. Scientists are afraid to publish negative research results.

All the more credit to those who are bucking the system: An emeritus Professor is raising questions about modified crops  in Iowa (maybe when you are retired you can afford to buck the system?) and US Organic Farmers are attempting to protect themselves from litigation by Monsanto.
Hat tip to @opensourcelaw.

Old Ladder New Ladder

As I was looking at ladders propped up outside the shop, an elderly man stopped and looked with me.
"You are looking at ladders," he said.
"Yes I am "
"Oh, they are dangerous.You can fall off."
The voice of experience, I thought and looked to see which ladder seemed most stable.

I told the ladder merchant in the shop that the ladder I had inherited was rather wonky.
"Ohhh, that's not very good," he said, sizing me up with a worried look. "Its very dangerous, you could fall off."
Then he said, "Look, you stand on this and see how it feels."
He unwrapped all the plastic and tape from his 'On Sale' ladder and stood it on its four legs.

I climbed up. No wonk. Instead of feeling as if I was balancing in a boat, the ladder felt like an extension of my own legs. What a difference. I looked around to show the elderly gent from outside how stable I was, but he had disappeared.

PS Blue bedrrom walls are now white. Scraping back paint from cupboard doors reveals a darker blue beneath. Sigh.

Painting not painting

I would much rather be painting canvases than walls (or window frames) but the walls and frames have taken over for the moment. The previous owners left an elderly and rather wonky the ladder in the garage. It does the job, but as I wobble I tell myself I should get a replacement.

Window frames

Now the floors are done, I am moving on to the window frames which need attention.

The windows are divided into larger and smaller panes. Painting them is a smaller or larger pain (inverse proportion!)

In places the outside peach colour had been used internally and the first coat of paint barely disguises it. It looks as if they will need three coats (even larger pain).

Rock Faces: Cockatoo Island drawings

Floor polished with Livos Kunos Oil

I had thought that a floor treated with Kunos oil might look a bit 'old', but the floor is now oiled and it does not look old at all. It shines and glows and is as happy as wood can be when it is well cared for. It was definitely worth the effort of finding a floor polisher who would work with this product instead of slapping on toxic polyurethane.

Interestingly, the floor polisher told me that architects are increasingly recommending products such as this but their clients have not kept up. They want shine and they want it now and don't realise that some of the products used in Australia are banned elsewhere and off-gas for 5 years. I am very pleased the previous owners did not do a cheap and nasty job before selling the house.

Good fairies

Today the Painting and Technologies class started at the National Art School but after waiting so long to get into this class I discover after the first lesson that I have mixed feelings about it.

Partly it has to do with the environment.  The fellow behind me in the class today slapped turps over his paper as if his lungs (and ours) are impervious to harm but I know too many painters who have died of solvent poisoning to be relaxed painting in a room full of fumes.

Partly it has to do with my learning expectations. I discover that I know more about the subject than I realised so it less interesting than I expected.  I can see the course will help me fills the gaps in my oil/acrylic knowledge but my overwhelming feeling tonight is that I have been undervaluing my years of painting practise.

How lucky I am an (accidental) ceramics major. Ceramics is something I really knew nothing about so the learning experience has been exciting and rewarding.

I had my eye on the wrong ball, but luckily my good fairies have been looking after me regardless.

Drawing Week on Cockatoo Island

Rock faces everywhere.

Poor Christchurch, Poor Libya

While Christchurch churches topple and citizens pull each other out from under piles of rubble, Libyans risk life and limb to topple a President who hires mercenaries to shoot them.  It is hard to think of anything else with such news on the airwaves.