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Artists Who Stare

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  Artists who Stare into their Creative Self Vignette There is a reckoning in the soul of every artist. It begins as a tremor, a flicker of light, almost imperceptible, yet relentless in hunger. That precise moment when the artist is alone, silhouetted against the radiance of an internal inferno and stares unflinchingly into their creative self. They dwell in the space between inspiration and doubt, bathed in the glow of possibilities and tormented by the fear of mediocrity. To exceed the ordinary, the artist knows, is both a blessing and a curse. Each touch, each word, each act of creation becomes a paradox: an offering to eternity but rooted in the fleeting frailty of the present. What if they fail? What if the light within, so achingly bright, burns them to ash rather than illuminating their path? The act of creation is no longer a choice; it has become a necessity. There is no turning back. Like a lone figure before the furnace of their own making, the artist surrenders to the ...
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EggHead Costello

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I could have been PM.
I wanted to be PM.
Unfulfilled ambition some say.
End of a dream some say.
Some say a lot about could have beens. What if I had of challenged Howard? What if I Howard had of stepped down? What if I had of snatch leadership. What if I was the victor? What if I was the PM of Australia. I lead Australia through crisis and through crisis. I lead Australia out of debt. That is no debt. That is leadership. You can insult me, but you will never understand my paradox. I am the good son. I have ethics. I have morals. I am proud. I have not exploited my position of power. I have not enriched or misused my entitlement of power. I have no scandles attached to my name. There is no dirt to my name. Forget honest John I am Peter the rock. The curse all Peter's must endure. It is a death foretold.



I left because the decision was mine and I made it. You can decide if it is your loss. You can decide whether it is your gain.

I have been described as the poor man's Keating. What I have to say is Brrrrrrrrr.

I have the best smirk. I have the smirk of all time. I smirk because I know. You may see butterflies but I see elephants.



I have tolerated being called a dope. I have been called a moron and I have been called a whimp. In my twilight days I sat on the back bench smarmy and smirking and unctuous and smug. I sat there from the moment Howard kicked sand in my face. But I turned the other cheek. Despite my outer persona of seeming arrogance, I am a sensitive and self-questioning man. So to all those great aussie knockers who called me a pissweak, smartarse wanker get of your behinds and do something worthwhile. Do something that benefits Australia.



Keating may have called me a shiver looking for a spine but I was generally trying to do the best that I could. Sometimes I made a decision that in the hindsight was bad but I made the decision because it had to be done. I was needed because we need someone who can make order our society. It maybe a bad job, but someone's got to do it. And I won't spend the rest of my life justifying a limited reign

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