Settling in

Since returning to Tasmania, life has had a a fairly cracking pace but I’m trying to keep it controlled. So far I have managed to say no to anything that is not A) CAST B) Just me in the studio or C) Trying to extend the life of BUG.

Two works Encore and Barbichette opened in ‘Someone shows something to someone’ at the Canberra Contemporary Art Space on Friday night. I’d been fussing over Barbichette since I got back. I love it because I’m a sentimental fool and had such a good time playing with my friends in Tabor but there’s no reason why that should mean anything to anyone else, I guess….

Michael says it’s a ‘minor work’. I fear he might be right, not that there’s anything wrong with that…

I showed it to Monica last night who protested loudly and at length about not knowing anything about art and then kind of hit nails on heads by saying (I paraphrase) ‘I’m watching a home-video. You guys obviously have fun and I can see why you’d want to preserve it but it means nothing to me’. Fair enough too. I only made it for me, really. So why did I send it off to a bloody great art gallery? The curator likes it, which is a plus…

Being back in the seat at CAST has actually been OK but I’m only just starting to come to grips with what my job actually entails again. What do I do there? I answer the phone. I’ve got that down at least…

My first days back were taken up with a staff jaunt to Launceston to visit with artists at the Academy up there, to see what kind of work people are producing. It’s heartening that each time we go, there are more things to like, but some folks are still a struggle. When I asked one woman if her work was mostly figurative she replied “No I don’t do figurative works, as you call them. I mainly do portraits.”

AS I CALL THEM.
As I live and breathe…

Here we are propping up the bar after a hard days art appreciation.

That’s Philip on my right, Michael on my left and Fiona running like the wind in the foreground.

Much later that evening (actually early next morning) P, M and I sat in the bar of our v. classy hotel listening to the jangling of the pokies with a man with a silver mullet, a white leather bomber jacket and tatooed earlobes. And his numb-nut friend. I think one or both of them had recently been released from prison. There was also the more non-threatening younger bloke who M was convinced was an off-duty drag queen.

We considered them an apt form of replacement entertainment for the sadly departed mechanical bull.

When in Launceston, CAST staff choose to stay at the Hotel Tasmania….

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