Hi to all. I do hope your Christmas break has been relaxing and you are once again immersed in your art, work, reading, or whatever moves you most. While our holidays are behind us here, there have been many disruptions to my intended outpouring of my art and writing project. I decided this week to give you some idea of why I’ve stalled on my most adventurous art project yet – a graphic novel. I decided to write myself back into this project, and here is some of what I wrote…
I took this photo the day before flying to Christchurch; A good omen I felt. Kerry and I were off to attend the first night of a play selected to mark the opening of the new Court Theatre in the Christchurch CBD. The original theatre in the old university buildings suffered irreparable damage in the 2011 earthquakes.
The play, The End of The Golden Weather, written 50 years ago by New Zealander Bruce Mason, is a Kiwi classic, and my daughter Lara was honoured to be asked to direct the show. We were thrilled to be at the opening and to see how she would interpret this beloved play. Yes, this was a big deal!
The morning of the play, we were with my sister in Sumner taking a walk along the esplanade. It was a stunning day, and naturally I took a photo, looking along the beach towards the Southern Alps (which sadly, were hidden behind cloud at the time).
Behind me were dozens of surfers, mostly women who were there for a competition. The air was chill, and they all deserved medals for their desire to brave the cold water.
“To take art off the wall and out of static display. To adorn the body in wildly wonderful ways. To celebrate creativity in a lavish and unique on-stage spectacular that will inspire us all.”
And inspire it certainly does, attracting entries from all over the world, which have audiences looking forward to the annual event with much anticipation and excitement. Especially this year.
The first day, did not start well, when we realised the rental firm where our vehicle was located was a long way from where we were staying. Family were busy, so an Uber was called, and we set off through the morning traffic. We will certainly study the map more throughly next time before booking. Nice driver, but hates Melbourne traffic. It was to be our first taste of this phenomenon, as we had never driven in Melbourne before and we would soon be amid the crush. Navigation set up, and co-navigator (me), whose job it was to read screen and report to driver. Anyway, we made it out of the city, (phew) and onto the much lauded Great Ocean Road! Ye ha!
It was a busy couple weeks in Australia; a miscellany of many things, starting in Melbourne. We looked after our granddaughters for a few days; busy times indeed working around their activities. We visited the National Art Gallery to see the Triennial exhibition; a host of fabulous contemporary art. NaniViv (as I’m called), was travel-worn and hot, but the girls not. I suggested afternoon tea, and they suggested the city centre. We did both. It was fun trying on clothes at Cotton On, and buying a top each. Though they were extra excited when I suggested shoe shopping, having just lost a heel off mine at the gallery. Next came groceries, and the need for fruit ‘straps’ for a secret treat they wished to make for dessert. They had no idea these would harden on contact with the ice cream and cause a spectacular dripping.
The second week in Port Douglas passed in a similar pleasant style to the previous one, seeing us mingling with our friends at the beach, or over drinks in the evening. The weather was warm and skies calm until the end of the week, when strong wind ruffled the sea and waves rolled onto Four Mile Beach. Kerry was undeterred by the strong wind as he loves nothing better than body surfing the waves. I was happier either walking or sketching. But this week had a different focus, because we decided to visit a wildlife habitat a short distance from the town. Never before, I must add, had I ever posed for a touristy photo like the one you see here. I only agreed as I love owls. What a hoot!
The trip to Wellington last week catered for two needs; to see my friend Jayne, and to gather research for the book I am writing. Jayne and I met when I lived in the area many years ago. We had a lovely couple of days together, one of which involved Jayne offering to drive me around the areas I wished to research. So, we headed across town, through the ‘tooting’ tunnel and towards Lyall Bay – one of the places the protagonist of my novel lived in the 1970s. I’ve called her Marjorie and she is based on a very complex woman I used to know well. Back then she liked to be called Mother.
I’ve been biking in Central Otago again, undoubtably one of the most picturesque areas in New Zealand. It has a multitude of walking and biking tracks, if that’s your thing. And biking is a thing for my in-laws and me (to a lesser extent). Or, maybe I should rephrase that to the less brave. I was down here almost two years back with Kerry, to ride part of three tracks: the Rail Trail, The Roxburgh Gorge and The Dunstan Track, some of which we were about to repeat, but rather differently as it turned out. That’s me above, on the Roxburgh Gorge Trail last week.
Two weeks ago I took myself to see the film Caravaggio: The Soul and the Blood, which was part of the Italian film festival showing in our local cinema. I am a big fan of Caravaggio, and three works in particular, which appear in the movie. To think that I almost missed seeing these works in the flesh when visiting Rome some years back. The accidental way this came about is quite funny, I think, and why I’m reposting the story I wrote in 2018 about this experience.
Funny, just when I thought I had nothing to post, I turned my head and saw Rosemary sitting in the corner of my study, my ‘walkie talkie’ doll from childhood. I met Rosemary on a Christmas morning when I was six years old. My sister also received a doll, but there was something different about our parcels. Mine had a note pinned on. It read something like this. “Dear Vivienne, I have an apology, but on the way over one of my reindeer stood on your dolly, and now its ‘Mama’ doesn’t work. I know your parents will have it fixed as soon as they can. My best wishes, Father Christmas.” My reaction?
ARTISTRY 