Those pieces of art sitting around my home are an expression of a time when I was working out my inner being. Who I was and my value to the world. In some ways it was a healing process. I was recovering from a slight stroke event after having an Asthma Attack. The clay modeling helped me with coordination as I used hand eye manipulation modelling the clay into sculptures. The process of creation was like a medicine and improved my mood and sense of worth.
Prior to this course of learning ,I was doing water colour painting with the Water Colour Society of my home state. Again therapeutic, and rediscovered my love for art. At high school I excelled in this subject but after finishing school all my efforts went into becoming a nurse. Life, marriage and children followed , I kept writing poems but producing art only reemerged in convalescence and the healing produced a large body of work.
THIS FIRST IMAGE : Oil on canvas large painting this view is focusing on left hand side 2008
ICHOR- In the Views of the gods, like blood it flows. This word means more than this, immortal beings with immortal deeds the true liquid instead of just blood. Could it also mean the fluid of our own soul? Or the link we have with the sound of the universe? What frequency are we vibrating when we cry and when we sing, or hum on one note with love in our hearts? I wish it to be of the creative kind to help this world and every human being to be free and see the light, the truth with only love in our hearts. We know that the beginning of all, was from water Coupled with sound is the source of life And how our thoughts and emotions can change us for a sick state into well for our bodies are high in fluids and we push through to connect to others with only love in our hearts. But am I a god? With ICHOR in my veins as the Greek gods of old can I also claim Immortality in this world of flux and change? Maybe someone will end it all and bring down our fall Am I questioning just my own self once again ? I became the random atom and exploded as frustration boiled over and oozed out as bad hummus Smelling of fermented creativity onto a room full of friends. Blinded by ugly demented art that charred my soul. I question my worth as a human being in closed hidden away Of stagnation of creativity I struggle, I stagger then flay My soul and regard the other as the enemy when it is me. Destroying and hiding behind the walls I've created. I am just as guilty of arts demise as we all flounder On the ocean in a rowing boat meant only for streams With out a rudder I dream of love for all in an Utopian world Not attainable in human existence, and have a gal to believe It can be so. But we can't give up on a world with better Conditions and a place were all or most can live in peace. where is the rescue ship in this ocean where is it if not within ourselves to transpose the little rowboat into a yacht With anchor and sails to guide us through the rough times of life. We turn to the immortals and pray for our saving, But the immortal is inside of us we do have the ICHOR And it is our higher selves which must take the world And see the way clear through those waters of destruction.
This is my second attempt at figurative sculpture , Old Athena. Here I’ve turned the wisdom goddess into an older woman and not the younger beautiful strong female rising from the head of Zeus her father. Predefined male orientated look of wisdom. A myth in all ways as history shows us it is the older females who hold wisdom , as age can only give us that elder status.
The most inspiring god as he is physically lame and is thrown from Mt Olympus because he made a throne for his mother Hera in which she was unable to get out off. She cursed him to walk on earth among the human mortals. He taught them metal crafts and is not just the god of the forge but the god of volcanoes. All my pieces I had to drag from the physical plan of earth of soil and clay from this land Australia and memory of how ancient this land is with all the knowledge of the ancient and longest surviving culture and people on this planet , the indigenous of this country. It is in his capacity of volcanoes his presents here in this land. But that is my own interpretation, as I can not presume the right to claim the history of that ancient long surviving culture as I am not native to this land only born here with white woman’s eyes and ears, and brain/ mind.