Resilience

I enjoy watching Julia Zemiro's Home Delivery. She seems to be a warm, compassionate person and I'm impressed with the way she allows her guest to take centre stage. Unfortunately, there are many example of hosts who have access to fantastic guests, but make the interview all about them.

Kurt Fearnley was featured this season, a thoughtful man full of fun and an evangelist for resilience. I took heed when he said "Your body is a bag of meat, you can turn it into anything. Your mind-frame and your approach to life is the most powerful thing that you have. The strongest part you have in you is your resilience, your ability to tell yourself to keep going."

With all of his stellar achievements, Kurt remains humble. To me, humility is the most attractive of the Seven Virtues. A few years ago I came across the Litany of Humility, inspired by the words of Rafael Cardinal Merry del Val (1865-1930). He was the Secretary of State for Pope Pius X when he crafted this litany. When I showed it to my best friend, she said she was astonished to find something from the Catholic Church she could agree with. Take a look at this excerpt (by the way calumniate means to make false or defamatory statements).

From the desire of being esteemed, Deliver me.

From the desire of being loved, Deliver me.

From the desire of being extolled, Deliver me.

From the desire of being honored, Deliver me.

From the desire of being praised, Deliver me.

From the desire of being preferred to others, Deliver me.

From the desire of being consulted, Deliver me.

From the desire of being approved, Deliver me.

From the fear of being humiliated, Deliver me.

From the fear of being despised, Deliver me.

From the fear of suffering rebukes, Deliver me.

From the fear of being calumniated, Deliver me.

From the fear of being forgotten, Deliver me.

From the fear of being ridiculed, Deliver me.

From the fear of being wronged, Deliver me.

From the fear of being suspected, Deliver me.

The image above is a work in ink on rice paper, using this text as inspiration. To finish I inscribed a symbol of humility on the back of the paper. Apparently in some African traditions, ram's horns are appropriate because they go humbly to slaughter. My Australian farmer mates say that rams are not slaughtered because they are needed for breeding. A valid life purpose!

Sketching

The Archibald prize is now showing at the Gallery of NSW. Every year The Australian newspaper prints copies of the finalists. It's a great source of discussion in our house, with the girls able to rip in almost as critically as Christopher Allen. Back in 2009 when I first started studying painting at the BIA, our teacher, Sally Duhig, had us copy Guy Maestr's  portrait of singer Geoffrey Gurrumul Yunuping. It was a tonal exercise, we were instructed to choose a colour, mix up a light, medium and dark of that colour and paint using only those three tones. Concentrating on the tones took away the fear of making a good likeness, so that everyone in the class was pleased with their result.

This year I made a few pencil sketches of Carla Fletcher's portait of Jenny Kee. I like Clara's version better, but it was fun to have a go.

Making Time

From time to time I get discouraged about my art. Like ants in a colony, I can be busy and engaged doing the work, but will anyone even notice if I stop. When I start thinking like this it's time for me to take stock of my goals, to meditate on the benefits that living a creative life bring me, to appreciate the enjoyment and calm that making art gives me.

The antidote is often to grab the nearest writing implement and start to draw. Copy something from the newspaper or focus on simplifying an animal into a recognisable shape. These ants are a good example. The small satisfaction of making it look like an ant plus the state of flow I feel when I focus in on the task is a total reward. This temptation to look outward for reward is a dangerous trap.

Arts Te Papa Wellington

Wandered through a fascinating exhibition by Glenn Jowitt called PHOTOGRAPHING THE PACIFIC. His style of photography was to be a documenter, so that few of his images have people looking directly into the camera. This show focused on his love of Pacific Island culture and ceremonies. As a visitor from another country it's an excellent way to gain some cultural insight.

There are a few images documenting the initiation of a boy with a hair cutting ceremony. The initiate is frocked up with his long hair sectioned into ribbons. Relatives and friends give the boy a gift (usually money), then snip off one of the sections of hair.After all the hair is cut the boy shucks off the frock and does a dance to celebrate his transition to manhood.

Glenn died unexpectedly last year, this exhibition is a poignant legacy. Walking through it made me more aware of Pacific Island culture, but also made me think about the commonality of many ceremonies celebrated by many cultures.

Fury

filled with rage

filled with fury

small fists flailing

large voice wailing

feeling hurt

feeling confused

big tears pooling

left thumb drooling

striving for calm

striving for control

big book reading

voice of reason heeding

slowing her breath

slowing her pulse

deep lung sighing

anger tiring

seeking solace

needing love

small shoulders shrugging

warm mama hugging

Highly Commended

Last week, Frank McBride judged the MiIburn Prize and my piece was Highly Commended! It felt like being back at school and getting a certificate of achievement. According to my dictionary highly commended is failing to win a prize but nevertheless considered meritorious.

I made RADIANT (gathering ideas about imperial obsequiousness and radical libertarianism) last year. I spent the year experimenting with ink and various papers I had picked up in a washi shop in Kyoto. So many of my efforts looked like fabric that I even tried ink on fabric.

This piece started during a Friday studio session at the BIA. I was thinking about the origins of the paper so I started writing the name of the towns and cities I had visited in Japan. When I turned the paper sideways the writing could be read as calligraphy. This gave me the idea to paint an iconic Asian image over the writing. The rising sun used in the imperial flag of Japan has rays radiating from the red centre. With the addition of this image it took on a distinctly flag-like appearance, which led to the paper being hung from a bamboo pole.

I love how when you are making a piece the end is never clear, but when you reflect back you can see how one idea leads to another, connecting your thoughts and experiences in life. My wise mentor advised me to name the work so that the judges had a lot of information to help them understand my viewpoint. So I used my experience of Japan to come up with the title. I find Japan fascinating because it is so exotic and so extreme:

• traditional vs modern
• rural vs uber-urban
• safety vs yakuza
• friendliness vs war crimes
• obedience vs individualism

The exhibit is open Monday - Friday until May 15, 2015

Anxiety

Last night I woke up with my head feeling as though I had polished off a bottle of wine, some kind of head cold I guess. When I got back to sleep I dreamt about tomorrow night's exhibition. It started out very pleasantly with me enjoying a drink with my friends as we cruised the gallery. It then morphed into a horror show because my painting was not on display. I tracked down the organisers who told me it was too fragile to withstand being exhibited. I was furious that they hadn't bothered to tell me and embarrassed in front of my friends.

On coming to my senses I realised I'm feeling some anxiety about the Milburn Prize. I will make calm my meditation focus and simply enjoy the night.

Who am I?

Am I the things that I say, the things that I do or the things that I think? Perhaps it is the sum of all these THINGS. It's fascinating to look back on our younger selves and recognise the 'stages' we make our way through. I shake my head increduously at the rash acts of my youth. Things I would never do now, words I would not say.

When I see my children going through these same stages it helps me to be less harsh in my approach to their brutalness. To realise that maybe we need to pass through these 'stages' to become who we are. To be brutal and have others be brutal to us, may be necessary in developing our empathy. This is how we learn to discipline our tongues, to marshall our thoughts, to direct our actions. In reading SPRING by David Szalay, I find his character James reflecting on the changes in his life:

"Once he wanted more than he does now. Once, his idea of his own life, of what it was meant to be, was something magnificent. It seems a sort of insanity now. A sort of megalomania. An impediment to a proper view of the world."

I think this is a neat summary of what we term 'the arrogance of youth'. I know people who never seem to pass this 'stage'. Humility is not an option. There is an almost frightening certainty about who they are and what they do. They would struggle to relate to the Dalai Lama's advice; "When you talk, you are only repeating what you already know. But if you listen, you may learn something new."

Shortlist

Thrilling email arrived yesterday. One of my paintings has been shortlisted for the 2015 Milburn Art Prize.

When I made the shortlist in 2014 my family, my parents and my in-laws came to the presentation nights. The gallery was a sweaty crush of people trying to look at the art. Last year's entry The Red Peril was 40 by 40cms, which was dwarfed by the other entries. Linda Back, the president of the Brisbane Institute of Art (BIA), gave a moving speech about the late Paul Milburn and the origins of the art prize in his honour. Bruce Heiser, a local gallery owner, was the judge and announced the winner. Christian Flynn, who also works at the University of Queensland Art Musuem. When it became clear to my partially deaf father-in-law that I had not won, he attempted to console me. Using a raised voice to get over the hub bub he said, "Not to worry, you can always put it in the Ekka." Unfortunately his timing wasn't great, as he spoke the crowd hushed and he had a wider audience than intended. He successfully blew away any pompousness surrounding the event.

During the school pick up I told my girls about my good news. First they congratulated me, then advised me not to invite Grandad this year. Clearly what I had found funny, they had found awkward!

Radiant (gathering ideas about imperial obsequiousness and radical libertarianism)                    Ink on Japanese paper

Mirth

I heard a comedian talking about audience response to his stand-up routine - he was astonished to notice someone choosing to say LOL rather than actually LAUGH OUT LOUD. I'm not sure what we can read from this, but I know that it made me sad.

I am a person who laughs out loud, sometimes snorting and often even slapping my knee. Over the years I haven't been able to help but notice how differently people respond to my expressions of mirth. One camp will say "gee your laugh is loud" in an unenthusiastic way, whilst the opposite camp thinks having me guffawing helps them to access their own funny bone.

When I first met my perfect partner in life I was immensely attracted to his wit and joke-telling ability - perhaps part of the reason he was attracted to me could have been the vocal appreciation I showed. I would happily give way to laughing fits that became tears and struggling for breath. The resulting sore cheeks and rib cage I felt as a blessing.

Luckily we have managed to pass this appreciation of humour on to our children, though the teenagers will sometimes stifle their amusement, I'm hoping it's just a stage. Don't hold back, don't just text it, do it.