Total randomness today.
This morning I went to an inspiring and fabulous art exhibition. The Archibald Prize for portraiture is Australia’s biggest and best known art prize. Everyone in Australia knows about it and it makes the news every year. Usually the winner is a highly controversial choice. The exhibition never leaves Sydney – except this year it has come to an art gallery in a town near to me. There was no way I was going to miss seeing this one. Of course it wouldn’t be right for me to post pictures of it here on my blog (wish I could have taken photos) so if anyone’s interested in seeing the works of art you can see them at the Archibald Prize 2007 website. Of course these pictures don’t come anywhere near close to showing what the paintings are really like. These works of art are typically massive … over 10 feet high, some as big as my kitchen wall. They’d have needed ladders to paint them.
The winner of the prize was the portrait of Janet Laurence, which looked like the paint had been dabbed on in small dabs and had a gel medium added to give it a look of translucent layering. Amazing. The People’s Prize was the George Ellis portrait – who I’ve actually seen when the Sydney Symphony Orchestra’s Baby Proms came to town (he’s gorgeous – oh those green eyes). This one was my second favourite. But my favourite of all was Stone Cold Sober (the flying one). That was incredible to see up on the wall. HUGE. There was one painting there – Fink on the Phone – which must have cost an absolute fortune in paints. In some places the paint was 3 or 4 inches thick. Hugely textured work of art. And the artist had wiped his brushes on the edge of the canvas – leaving gobs of paint. One thing I picked out when I got close up was that he had left stuck in one of the gobs of paint … a cap for one of the tubes of oils!! What a delightful find. I couldn’t help but twist my head to see what colour the cap had belonged to … vermilion.
My car is foobar. It’s been threatening to totally cark it for a few days so I took it to the mechanics. I thought it could have been the transmission. The mechanic said “nah, it’s probably just the leads”. Well guess who was right (dripping sarcasm here). But what would I know – I’m just a girl. grr. I’d rather have been the one in the wrong here though because now it’s going to cost me $700 and who knows how long without my car. The entire transmission needs to come out and be pulled to pieces.
I sat a while on my front verandah reading this morning. The weather has been ridiculously gorgeous for winter. This past week the temperature has been sitting at a balmy 22 degrees C (apparently around 72F). Winter!! So while I sat I read from my cherished little old Matthew Arnold poetry book with the Arthur Dixon illustrations and found a beautiful one I wanted to share … A Modern Sappho” (Sappho being the “10th Muse” – the ancient Greek poetess from Lesbos who may or may not have been a lesbian – like that matters).
A Modern Sappho
They are gone: all is still: Foolish heart, dost thou quiver?
Nothing moves on the lawn but the quick lilac shade.
Far up gleams the house, and beneath flows the river.
Here lean, my head, on this cool balustrade.
Ere he come: ere the boat, by the shining-branch’d border
Of dark elms come round, dropping down the proud stream;
Let me pause, let me strive, in myself find some order,
Ere their boat-music sound, ere their border’d flags gleam.
Is it hope makes me linger? the dim thought that sorrow
Means parting? that only in absence lies pain?
It was well with me once if I saw him: tomorrow
May bring one of the old happy moments again.
Last night we stood earnestly talking together–
She enter’d–that moment his eyes turn’d from me.
Fasten’d on her dark hair and her wreath of white heather–
As yesterday was, so tomorrow will be.
Their love, let me know must grow strong and yet stronger,
Their passion burn more ere it ceases to burn:
They must love–while they must: But the hearts that love longer
Are rare: ah! most loves but flow once, and return.
I shall suffer; but they will outlive their affection.
I shall weep; but their love will be cooling: and he,
As he drifts to fatigue, discontent, and dejection,
Will be brought, thou poor heart! how much nearer to thee!
For cold is his eye to mere beauty, who breaking
The strong band which beauty around him hath furl’d,
Disenchanted by habit, and newly awaking,
Looks languidly round on a gloom-buried world.
Through that gloom he will see but a shadow appearing,
Perceive but a voice as I come to his side:
But deeper their voice grows, and nobler their bearing,
Whose youth in the fires of anguish hath died.
Then–to wait. But what notes down the wind, hark! are driving?
‘Tis he! ’tis the boat, shooting round by the trees!
Let my turn, if it will come, be swift in arriving!
Ah! hope cannot long lighten torments like these.
Hast though yet dealt him, O Life, thy full measure?
World, have thy children yet bow’d at his knee?
Hast thou with myrtle-leaf crown’d him, O Pleasure?
Crown, crown him quickly, and leave him for me.
The other beaut thing about today is that I finally got a copy of the latest Harry Potter book. My messages are caught up, and now I’m going to allow myself to bury my head in this doorstop. I bet I finish THIS one no worries. See you all in a couple of days (unless I need a break teehee!)