rentier

I saw the Roger Ballen exhibition at the National Library recently, and loved it. the work is beautiful and disturbing--he studies as a psychoanalyst or similar during his later years, and you can see it!
But one thing really made me think. Ballen's work is supported by his career as a geologist -- it has in the past allowed him the financial freedom to travel and take photographs. How important is this 'time' to make art, I wonder?

It got me thinking about the difference between people who haven't got financial pressures and those who do, and what this means for their art. I think the technical term for it is a rentier class--people who are supported by private means (ie family money) and thus have the time (and probably the education) to lead them to create art. This is contrasted with people who don't have financial backing and who may make different art, or not make art at all....Am I making assumptions here? Is there such a thing as a class divide in artworks/artists? It all sounds a bit Cultural Revolution to me, but I can't shake the feeling, especially when I think of art school students. The difference beteen those who don't have to work and those who do, for example. How does it impact on their art? Would Nick Cave have made such brilliant snotty nosed noise if he'd not been a private schoolboy. with access to the education and family money that allows one to f*ck up, and then start again? Does it matter?

hmmm. Is that a chip on my shoulder? I worry ....

PS the surfing's going well, thanks for asking! Heading back down to the coast tomorrow :)

agave

UPDATE: Having found my archives, I realise that the discussion about the meaning of blogging and the niceties of my home town has been had before on this here cyberpebble. O well. Its comforting to know that some questions take along time to answer and some preoccupations take a long time to pass. Its also nice to read back through them and be reminded that once I seemed to have more time to inquire and didn't stress so much about whats coming up .... instructive.

Reading: The Tree of Man by Patrick White. I started a book club with a friend and we've just read this. Nice to be able to suggest it without people thinking you're a wanker. I love it - although the first half much more than the second. I loved it when I read it years ago and wanted to share it with other people - everyone I had spoken to about it before had such a strong reaction (usually revulsion) that I despaired of being able to read it with others.

Listening: Not enough. I've moved twice in the last year and left all my music at one house - split up with an ex and it was too much drama to copy CDs we both owned so I left them all with him. I regret it. I listen mostly to newsradio and my running soundtrack these days (Tom Tom Club, old Michael Jackson, Beyonce and Dizzee Rascal).

Spending: Too much time on the net. All day work and all night at home doth make me one big Square Eye.

Good night.
x

My small town

I live in our nation's capital, but you'd never know it. Bucolic scenes like the one above are about 10 minutes drive and, as I write on a Thursday night, the streets are quiet and dark.

Its a transient town, as people move here to work or study (there are 5 unis), and so there are always lots of farewells and goodbyes. I've been here too long, and said goodbye to too many people who've moved on to far more exciting places. I often dream of leaving, but I'll probably be here till the end of a Phd.

Never mind, though. Its beautiful.

avast

Heh. I did it. Stood up a few times, fell over LOTS. Here's where I paddled on New Years Day:



SO.AWESOME.

So, I've been thinking about why blogging happens - why do people get into it? Why am I so insanely addicted to reading other people's blogs? Some people think blogging a weird, self-aggrandising project--the ultimate vanity. In some ways it is. I mean its self-publishing for no discernible artistic effort. there's no 'piece of work' to publish. Its just bits and bobs of consciousness for most people - on some blogs more artfully refined than others.

For me though, its not necessarily a vanity project (although there is that). For me, its about observing communities and/or participating in them. At the moment, for example, I love reading US 'domestic' craft bloggers, like angry chicken, or wise craft. I don't know these people but they are part of a larger US crafting community which is doing something I'm kind of fascinated by (combining domesticity with a gentle form of creativity, being happy). And I love to watch how they all riff off each other. Its like watching seamonkeys (but way cuter and smarter), or a soap opera at a constant emotional pitch...

And I LOVE reading Canberra blogs. I like that they give me a different perspective on my town and often share my affection for it: see rummage, ampersand duck, and numberonemillionaire - plus the often banal and very blokey riot act (who else would post about hedges in Ainslie. FABULOUS!). Its the same with blogs from anywhere in Australia, really - given our small population, everyday type blogs from this island make me squeal a bit when I find them.

I guess in all, reading what some people might consider the minutiae of other peoples- lives, or self-indulgent blathering, reminds me that I'm just one ant among billions, and that's kind of comforting.

What do you think?
x

PS: this the view from the verandah of where I was staying. Going back on the Australia Day weekend. Can't Freaking Wait.

hoo huum

Hi, back again for another random post. The picture above is from a trip to India taken in October. The woman who ran the bed and breakfast I stayed in took me here late one night (it was close to Diwali). She was incredibly Western (blue contacts, jeans all day every day etcetc) but made offerings in her home every day, and came here to make extra special Diwali ones. More about that later.

One of the reasons (ahem) that I've taken to posting to infrequently is that I seem to have lost the links to my archives, which USED to be to the right of the text. I'm worried that as I add new posts, my old ones will disappear. Any suggestions, anyone? Blogspot help is kind of um, lame.

My Christmas was fabulous. I now have TWO new nieces - Eva, who is now two, and Philippa, who was born in November this year. Our Christmas was spent on a huge sheep and wheat farm near Orange, NSW, and involved much eating and lazing, and the joy that only Christmas with a two-year-old can bring.

I'm off for a few days down at the coast, to an awesome little surf beach near North Durras. It has perfect little tubes rolling in all day - it is here that I will at least TRY to learn to surf. I've taken a leaf out of Andrea's sunny and inspiring blog and written myself a list of 33 things to do before I turn 34. One of them (in fact, Number One) is to learn to surf.

Note to you: hope you have an excellent new years'!
xx

Spotted

Back from another weekend down at the coast. No blue ringed octopuses this time, but plenty of perfect waves, and the hint of a tan. This photo is of a barn on the side of the road as you turn into North Durras. I had a dream about it years and years ago, when I was little. I don't remember whether the dream was good or bad, just that it involved living in that barn. It still spooks me out every time I see it - the image is just so vivid!

I'm moving house this month, to a house where I'll pay more rent and barely know the people I'm living with. It means I will leave my VERY small room and my current flatmates, one of whom is my ex (!). I just feel its time for a change, people. I'm starting volunteer work at the Migrant Resource Centre next week. Teaching english to Sudanese women who've come halfway across the world to a place where they don't speak the language, don't get the culture and can't look back, only forward, makes me appreciate how truly lucky I am to have my piddling skip across the suburbs.

hurrah

Hmm I thought this new posting malarkey might have worn off, but as it turns out it hasn't. I just had the most beautiful long weekend camping on the South Coast, at Murramarang National Park. With a gorgeous man I camped amongst the straightest, tallest spotted gums I have ever seen, AND I saw a blue-ringed octopus as well. The trees were seriously like the ones out of that Sydney Long painting of a girl leading a dance of brolgas (anyone?) 'Twas good, 'twas good. I'd post pictures but I was too busy having fun to take any.

Here, try this instead:



I'm reading Cloudstreet again, trying to stop myself doing 'comfort reading'. Does anyone else do this? Read the same books again and again, particularly in times of stress? I never did it as a child, but I seem to do it quite regularly as an adult - Jane Eyre and Cloudstreet have been the most recent culprits. Its kind of lazy and relaxing at the same time - good, but never ever challenging and ultimately a bit of a waste of time....

Still stayed up reading till 2 this morning though. It was great. :)

x

chills

I love the little tufts of grass in the photo above. I think they are actually a type of weed - maybe African Lovegrass? (Cool name huh). They remind me of the black coal sprites in Totoro, but a green kind that lives only in the bush. They kind of look like cows grazing, too - just the way they're randomly grouped together and, um, standing really still, like cows do ....... Anyway, enough about grass!

I'm really enjoying the pictures at yarnharlot at the mo. She's stuck out in a cabin in the middle of the woods in a Canadian winter, and has to follow deer tracks in the snow to make sure she doesn't get lost - this is whilst on walks which can only go for 10 minutes cos otherwise she'll FREEZE! There are some great photos of the snow piling up around her windows... slowly cutting out the light. Extreme.