Quoting du Pres

Listening to you quote du Pres,
So confident and convinced by
What I deem an insidiously seductive argument,
I am reminded of the human propensity
For emotional evasion
By self-deception.

June 2006

Artist/Modigliani

Finding Jane Austen

I'm not sure why it took me so long to discover Jane Austen. Or, rather, I should say, film adaptations of her work. It was only this year that I watched Sense and Sensibility, with Kate Winslett and Alan Rickman, both admired by me. I loved it. This time it was the 2005 version of Pride and Prejudice that came before my gaze. Starring Keira Knightley and Matthew Macfadyen, the outstanding male lead from Brad McGann's (NZ) outstanding film In My Father's Den. Macfadyen, alone, was reason enough to hire the film. And he didn't disappoint. Keira Knightley, whom I had not previously been convinced by, was made for the role of Elizabeth. Astonishingly good, actually. Without giving any more information, may I simply say that the film was an absolute delight. One I could easily and enjoyably see again. Interestingly, the bonus features included the alternate US ending. A few minutes tagged on to the end. I feel compelled to say it was decidedly syrupy. I preferred the British version, which concludes at the end of the scene between Elizabeth and her father, played by Donald Sutherland. I appreciate knowing that the director acknowledged my own imaginative powers by not spelling everything out loudly.

A veritable feast

Had I a digital camera, I would photograph the scene out my window: A baker’s dozen of sparrows. Assembled together in the fig tree. Their grey and brown colouring matching perfectly the grey and brown of nude fig tree branches. This congregation has a purpose. Increasing numbers of sparrows now congregate here each morning. Along with blackbirds, thrushes, a variety of finches and the occasional plucky waxeye who dares to confront the ‘big birds’. Joining them, two new visitors: a welcome pair of fawn coloured ringneck doves, come from I know not where. And watching intensely from higher branches, surprisingly reticent mynas. Word gets around it would seem. All are eager to partake of the recently instigated daily buffet. Laid out upon the new bird feeder situated only feet from my window. A tasty mix of lard and seed, supplemented with a few slices of stale bread. A veritable feast.

The spine gives up its saddest stories

I pay a man to manipulate me.

He lays out a sheet of clean tissue
cradles my head and says
from behind a Swiss moustache
have you had accidents before?

Oh yes, I want to say
I am the very devil for injury
I disguise myself
as a white line and live on the road.

I do not say this, I lie
prone in a curtain room
the William Tell overture
plays at quiet volume

his chest is warm on my back
my head is heavy in his hands
there are tiny clicks happening inside me
that even he doesn't know about:

the secret language of the spine.

Author unknown

The Four Walls

One wall of the gallery is divided in two by a doorway. Hence the five images. Each wall represents a particular theme. Three walls have a landscape profile. The divided wall, portrait. Nothing up close but all I can offer at present. These were taken yesterday. Just a taste.

A highly successful conclusion

A small handful of photographs I received via email this morning. By all accounts, the exhibition opening was very successful indeed. And although it does not appear so, there were a lot of people present. You may get some idea of the exhibition layout. The pieces run in a single strip around all four walls.

Photo 1: on the left- my daughter

Photo 3: 2nd from right - photographer, Liz March