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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 ...

Path of Flight

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A manifestation of problems is about to piss down on me This difficult situation is cloaked in nonsense Encased by feral monsters with voyeuristic intentions I am struggling to see the difference In light of this, I take flight

Rapid Creek Tide Out

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Trying to make sense of it all When the tide goes out And the rain stops What was once seen is now not what is seen All the way across the expanse To the horizon A revealed beauty That is transient and formed Flowing ebbing and eroding Of continuous loss As present A simulation Creation in place And witnessed by my force in time

Once We Were Your Imaginary Gods

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When I was your mirror I was no less dangerous I knew what it took To be as yourself Now I know how to protect I know your empathy I know your trust I know your desires Desecrated through impunity Deep within Where your monster resides You are in fear of reconciliation And of blame

Black Cockatoos Rapid Creek

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As true majestic beings Black cockatoos return to Darwin To squawk and demonstrate What belonging really means

Celeste Dark Awake Not Knowing

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Sweet sickly toxic plume From city to city cars are killing Dead mouth Deàd eyes Push this mess away The inconvenience and perversion

From Montpellier Park to the You Yangs

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Beautiful sprawling Geelong A veneer of suburbia each and every way And all of that granite just 22ks north east With distinct pyramid like peaks Making the flat plains so much more It has not always been this way Station Peak Flinders Peak A discovering with sheep Reporting that the natives were unwilling to work Waves of squatters drove off custodian resistance Conflict Aboriginal massacres Procedural lack of evidence Enforcement through denial of representation Legitimizing colonial  right of way Never to be officially documented A systemic off the record ‘land grab’ Plunder and claim Victim accounts reduced to word of mouth Forever locked into what can be deemed acceptably plausible Dogs must now be controlled There are walking and trial bike trails Picnic tables and toilet facilities It is challenging and family-friendly This, the now unquestionable modern day Australian landscape

Flagstaff Gardens Missing Statues

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This is a matter of inference rather than direct seeing Seven burials took place here No evidence that the bodies were exhumed What potential If we want to understand it’s time to reinvent We act as forgeries in the style of what we really want Only to became redundant due to the introduction of a new technology Then knowing we have been found out We lack the  knowledge Like fallen angles that lack life and emotional play Taking the historicist position by what we forgot about it Through the development of scientific knowledge The colony of identity has been re-established Normalised aura To form once again - a unique existence in a particular place in time This magnificent achievement that time has reshaped To what is now less good, less beautiful, less awe-inspiring, less interesting Our memories reliant on reward and monetary gain Walk on by and think less about it When none of the original statues exist, it nolonger matters.

Melbourne Summer Twilight

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Melbourne, she gathers strength as she goes But where has the Pleasure Gardens gone? The attitude and disapproval of forgotten times linger No more holidaying for the diggers on the hunt for a bit of fun Private enterprise will build the bridge A wooden toll bridge Bluestone and granite Then removed replaced and reinforced Finally, the possessive apostrophe was remove The lost and whispering magnificence of 19th-century Melbourne

Celeste Dark Awake Beyond Understanding

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Can you remember a time? When society didn't use fear When society didn't use hopelessness To control your imagination Your imagination to be obscure Your imagination to be different

Neon Slug

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Deception generated through want  Propagated trust through beauty Mimicry to attract predators To manipulate their intended outcomes To manifest concealment Actively transmitting misinformation Such militaristic cunning Tasty yet noxious and toxic

Scratch Away All Unpleasantness

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Seeing only a fraction of what could be seen Saying far less than what needs to be said Scratch away all unpleasant urges Heighten sensation  Inflict thoughtlessly Until repulsion has been removed Release your outward scream Until repulsion has been destroyed Then justify your behavior  Until your actions are obscured

Celeste Dark Awake Beyond Parameters

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Seeing yourself in darkness Thick and impenetrable darkness Anticipating what could and will happen Indulging in the fate of horror Cautious and alert Inability to speak or think clearly And beyond nurtured parameters