The Waterfall

It’s an art school cliché that the most naïve and fresh out of high school student will always paint a waterfall; just like they will always develop large, underexposed glossy black and white images of their dog or cat in their first Photography lessons. What’s important and touching to their impressionable eye and sensibilities is banal shite to the initiated mind and trained eye.

I grew up near a waterfall and typical of most parts of Australia it was either trickling like a gutter in dry spells or gushing like a Hydroelectric Plant after periods of rain.

The local council have built a walking path through there in recent years; it’s kind of lost it’s charm as it was such a difficult spot to climb down to many people didn’t bother making the effort. I honestly believe there will be more damage done to the forest rather than prevented by visitors. Idiots in grass roots council can never be told.

I have done a series of painting relating to the waterfall over the years, because it was a place my friends and I visited and had adventures in; later we drank booze there by the fire and took girls. It was a magical kind of place; the constant running water was kind of meditative; like white noise in the background.

I like the idea of it being a secluded and relaxing place but with an element of danger. When I began this doodle I had included a figure of a man looking down on the woman lying in the sun below. I painted him out of it; it made me uncomfortable but perhaps it was a mistake. Who knew what the man’s motives were. Was he a dangerous man, looking to harm her… or just looking..? Was he a gay guy walking his dog, admiring her fashion sense..? Was he her boyfriend, bringing her some lunch..? I like this ambiguity.

Many feminist thinkers, artists and philosophers have suggested that the waterfall as a motif is a euphemism for the vagina. The meeting point of a valley, moisture, somewhere life springs from. Goodness-gracious. How embarrassing, he said, mopping his brow. I do like girls, very much actually, but I don’t think I had this in mind.

Or did I..? The collective consciousness may be having the last laugh.



I think the painting needs to be pushed a lot further so I view this as a study; an experiment.


Stay tuned; when I find time I may just be able to get back into the waterfall again.

Study of The Venus de Milo

Lead pencil study of the Venus de Milo

Aphrodite of Milos (Greek: Αφροδίτη της Μήλου, Aphroditē tēs Mēlou), better known as the Venus de Milo, one of the most famous works of ancient Greek sculpture. Created some time between 130 and 100 BC, it is believed to depict Aphrodite (Venus to the Romans) the Greek goddess of love and beauty. It is a marble sculpture, slightly larger than life size at 203 cm (6 ft 8 in) high. Its arms and original plinth have been lost. From an inscription that was on its plinth, it is thought to be the work of Alexandros of Antioch; it was earlier mistakenly attributed to the master sculptor Praxiteles. It is at present on display at the Louvre Museum in Paris.

Famed for her missing arms, I have always wondered if she was actually playing the banjo.

In all seriousness, archeologists and art historians believe her right arm extended across her torso, her hand resting on her left knee, as if holding up her drapery. The left arm was holding an apple at roughly eye level.

Not every apple will keep the doctor away, least of all a marble one; but aside from her missing arms old father time has been pretty kind to her.

Christ Triptych

A while ago I produced this Christian triptych for a fundraiser my Mother was running. It seemed to produce a really positive response from everyone who viewed it.

I’m not a religious person; I have many issues with organized religion, and my own beliefs which are complex and ironically simple at the same time. I still believe though there is a great deal of good which comes from it, such as community support, tradition, enlightenment on many levels and sheer goodness.

There really isn’t enough of that in the world so it should be encouraged, not mocked or derided.

I chose a triptych as it’s a type of work which developed through Christianity. In the first few centuries as the church developed, folding three-piece screens were set up behind altars for masses. After a period, Christian motifs appeared on them and this developed directly into the tradition of multi-paneled painting and associated art which is employed world-wide throughout studios and galleries.

In producing this work I was aiming for imagery which everyone could relate to. Elderly people, little children, those who don’t normally view art, and hopefully some of those who do. The result is it’s a little benign by some standards. Regardless, it touched people on some level and for this I’m glad.

It also raised several thousand for impoverished people in South America, so for this I’m very glad.

Faded Thoughts

I found an old photo of an ex-girlfriend in a book I picked up last night. Realized I hadn't thought about her in a long time. It seemed a lifetime ago. It's funny how time changes the way you feel. Once apon a time you feel like you would die for someone, then you feel the oppposite, then you feel nothing.

Sometimes in life that is, happily it doesen't always turn out that way.

Still, made me think. Wondered how she was. Not exactly intrigued, too much water has passed under the bridge, but hope she’s doing well.

Remembered these little sketches I'd scanned from an old sketchbook of our time together. Pretty good.

The Cabinet Sketch

In keeping with the theme of posting old drawings, I found this little sketch I did a year ago today.

How amazing that I would sit down at my parents place and discover it on their computer..?

I’ve always been the type of sentimental person who looks at old things I have held onto; even movie tickets, and wondered what I was doing on that day. What I was thinking… Feeling… Was I happy or otherwise?

Today I can look at this drawing with the scribbled little date underneath it and know this time last year I was doing a drawing of my grandmother’s old cabinet.

She passed away not quite 20 years ago now. So much has changed.

I wonder what she would have though of it..?

Drawing Lessons

A few years ago I worked for a business which was treating me poorly. I was in a role where I was dealing with our clients when they were in a very vulnerable position, and I had to inconvenience them to perform my duties. Often, clients were very stubborn, difficult and belligerent towards me. By the same token, some were really terrific and later even sent me gifts. This is what happens when you deal with all kinds of members of the public. Conversely, however, I had regular complaints made about me. This was accepted within the industry as a normal, ongoing occurrence. Not so for the idiots I worked directly for.

I’d been through some unpleasant industrial action where essentially I came out on top and they appeared very foolish, after breaking numerous laws they were unaware of. I paid them the compliment of making them aware of these without taking any legal action against them. I was even verbally abused at one point in a private meeting with the director. I kept my cool and can laugh about it today. Put it this way; I wasn’t as if I was in-the-shit or not-in-the-shit with my employers; I was ALWAYS in the shit. It was just the depth of it which varied. They were used to pushing thier employees around, and I, not being used to being pushed around, had nothing to lose.

There were good things about the place. The other people were great, but ultimately it was a shitty, in-between job and I got a kick out of being a thorn in their side for a short time there.

Let me just say it was the kind of organization which required serenity within the workplace, and the client to be as relaxed as possible. Whilst in a quiet period between bouts with the management, they approached me to paint a mural in one of their rooms they serviced their clients in. (No, it was not a brothel, in case you were wondering. It may sound that way as I'm attempting to be discreet about them).

Here I was, being screwed by ‘The Man’, and they wanted me to paint them a pretty picture on their wall.

In my OWN time no less. When I enquired as to whether they would replace me whilst I did it and when we would find time when the room was free, it was suggested I should do it out of hours… (!?!?)

These people really were the pits; the unmitigated nerve and audacity of them. I certainly learnt a few lessons from them though. Things turned to worms shortly after and I received a nice payout for, ahem, resigning. Gladly, I thought, for a tidy little sum. Recently I unearthed this sketch I prepared for the mural. It’s quite good, although I suspect it’s the story I just told which is more fascinating. I do remember the Director being wholly impressed with it.

I think I’ll develop it into a painting. It needs a tidy-up; the perspective is out of whack; the water above the waterfall would be visable I imagine. The irony is as I discovered later, certain philosophers and schools of psychology have suggested that the waterfall is an extremely sexual image, laden with subconscious meaning. All they wanted was something relaxing. I should have done it with little rude subliminal messages hidden in it. That would have been great.

The last week I worked there they tried to con me again by telling me my severance papers weren’t ready, and I’d have to come in the following week. I took great satisfaction in telling them that "Under no circumstances will I be coming in next week: I don’t want to work here anymore". Ha. Not exactly Take this job & Shove it, but wholy satisfying.

In true shonky fashion, the paperwork was ready for me to sign the very next day.

Not a bad line drawing though, and something prepaired directly out of my imagination, for people with absolutely no imaginations of their own.


And I never even charged the jerks a cent for it.

Happy Valentines Day

More Flowers… already! Another floral still-life!

Well, it was done on St. Valentines Day; the day of love and romance, so I felt it appropriate. And it is a departure; it’s acrylic on canvas, so I’m not flogging a dead horse. But it IS a painting, so technically it’s NOT an illustration…

But it is illustrative…

Arguing with myself; so this is what I’ve come to. I should have listened to people and done Law. Oh well, I’m pretty confident the world doesn’t need another, and I’d rather be poor and happy than wealthy and miserable.

(I’d settle for wealthy and happy in a second though…)

So, a very happy belated Valentines Day to anyone out there who lives for love and romance. You have my blessings.

Personally, for me pursuing love’s like riding motorbikes;

Exhilarating, fun, often hard work with its own rewards, and demands plenty of maintenance. And if you fall off… you’re on ya own… However, there’s nothing in life that makes you feel as alive, vulnerable, valued and powerful as an individual whilst still being on the ground and sober.


(As you have probably guessed I’m not too good at riding motorbikes…)