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March 10, 2006

the inexplicable miracle of life


the world slid out of focus as
a stunning woman elatedly pressed a stitched up business card into my hand.

I slid it into my back pocket and then let it rest unopened on my desk for a few days before taking a scalpel to it's orderly stitching.
Five or six small seeds dropped out, I'm not sure now.
But I followed the instructions on the rear of the card and planted them.
Even though there was no instruction to water them I decided it was a good idea and have spent the last 10 days doing so each morning.
Then sproing spriong three fragile little green Y shapes popped out of the soil.
They continue to grow larger each day.
As does my heart for the woman whose hand set this life in motion.

March 06, 2006

LASERCUTS

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After spending almost 8 months sitting idle in the paintshop, the LEDA trainstation public art commission sculptures are finally complete. They are a series of twelve lasercut figures in a run cycle. The figures themselves are a loose and slightly comical interpretation of the massive power lines in the Kwinana rockingham area. Soon they will be installed into the newly completed trainstation.Strangley I feel kinda flat. It actually been a bit of a anti-climax, maybe the long wait and the slightly lighter-than-expected orange has dulled the impact. Sometimes I look at things I make and wonder if I really made them. Old art can be akin to remembering intimacy with an ex-lover; it can sometimes resemble an old faded photograph.

HOMAGE TO THE HOUSE OF CONCRETE

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I've kept journals before though never in a disciplined sense. It's the kind of activity I seem to immerse myself in when I'm either sad or confused or engaged in a period of study or travel.

They are the times when I am really seeking to unravel my thoughts and feelings or record my observations and impressions. Writing in particular seems at these times to be a rich medium with which to channel the many voices of a curious or disturbed mind. Looking back at some of these journals I see a wonderful interior dialogue between me and some other mysterious source. Of course there is all the bad attempts at describing people, places and phenomena that passed close to me, but there is also so many occasions where I ask questions in earnest and then write out answers in response. I'm not sure where these responses come from but it seems from a far more intelligent source than me. As I write these responses my mind typically quietens and my body relaxes. In that calm I seem to have much more sensitive connections to sensations in my guts, my heart, my throat and my head. The body becomes a wholly sensitized seat for grounding the generally stratospheric workings of the mind. I've so often written that I need a cable connecting me to the earth because I have such I tendency to taken by ideas as if they were hot-air balloons on route to fantastical cities in the clouds.

I still suspect that there will be a bit of that floaty stuff in this journal, but I'm going to try from the start to follow a gutsy intent which requires that everything recorded or brought here must without a doubt quicken the heart. It will be a collection of things at quicken the heart, which is something I heard the filmmaker, Chris Marker say he heard someone else say which I think is a wonderful starting point in the journey toward something real.

I'm not sure I know exactly what the concrete journals are all about yet, but I want it's founders and creators to know I think it's is a wonderful gift to have this space to publish my thoughts and I that will offer it the serious playfulness that it inspires.