Scrabble

I went to bed last night thinking it would be great to play a game of Scrabble at the workshop today. Somewhere in the middle of the afternoon for whoever was there we would set the board up and play a game to let our minds think of other things for a little while.

Saturdays meet and greet and today's workshops went surprisingly well. Whilst lowish in numbers - I think the word is starting to get out and Louise rocked up again today which was wonderful.

I have set up five tasks and exercises so that people can interact immediately if I am already talking with another group or person as I have set them as open works shops for the while. I will list the tasks at a later date. Some have worked immediately others (photo taking, video, audio) take a little gumption to interact with - so I might throw them over to people who are more comfortable in performing and approach some perfoming groups to help me.

The workshop today was a little fretful at start as I didn't know who was going to arrive - and I had five new people - so we did some more introductory stuff then begun to muck around on Reason with three brothers. It'd be good to get them making some music performing live or recording for the installation. And must call Annemarie to talk potential Bago Magic involvment.

Everyone left at three(ish).

Louise interrupted a top notch Scrabble game between Jenni and myself in which I was winning this afternoon. Together we worked on some questions for an interview with a surf life saver or the like. Hopefully we can video or sound record this interview and begin to include it in the mix. We also went through some of the collected writings from one of the exercises and stripped the themes running through them - this may also form one of the stories I will begin to wrap around the Signal Shed.

So all in all a complete day, new people a couple of steps forward and a top notch game of Scrabble (in which I was winning!)

I must say it was good to be in a winning state for the AFL grand final!

Tomorrow? lots of phone calls and arranging stuff for next week before I head off to Newcastle.
Now? back to the box to see if the ABC can't stuff up another arts program.

Deuce Bigalow vs The Station Masters

Went to a community radio station in Wauchope (pronounced Warhope) and spruiked the project which I am getting better at but still not really sure what to concentrate on...getting old technology?...getting participants?... and then there's what sort or participant...performer?...musician?...electrical technician?...carpenter?...video maker?

I have been reminded of The Mystery Plays a lot lately and how the "template" of this type community participation in the arts practically came from the Medieval days where each cycle tradespeople from butchers to weavers and everyone in between would lend their skills to help celebrate the stories of the bible. Skills and stories passed down from generation to generation.

It's the start of the school holidays today the year 12's had their assemblies today and have a couple of weeks off before swat vac and then exams. The youf are on the beach hanging out doing a bit of celebrating. Cars occasionally roll into the car park below and the little squirts of light each mark a fire in between the low dunes and high bushes on the shore. It'll be schoolies soon.

The South Australian Government advertises Adelaide on TV in New South Wales as a place to relocate. Apparently it's cheaper living, the house prices are still inexpensive and the education is better. I found its depiction of a comfortable eastern suburbs lifestyle somewhat different to the vibrant up beat urbane "You Are Here" of Adelaide City Council's we get back home. I don't know who to beleive now!

At the Maritime Museum in Port Macquarie yesterday I spoke to an elderly gentleman volunteer about what he does in his little way to keep a museum of that size open and the amount of cataloguing and the systems he was putting in place as a Station Master (a term used by him in lieu of volunteer). I couldn't help think of how the knowledge in a small but relevant institution is passed down and handed over. Can a Maritime Museum of this sort with artifacts from the convict history of the area make itself relevant to a younger generation apart from the obligatory school visit once a year? (Believe me when you live in country town you visit your main museum at least once a year sometimes even twice for different subjects.) Does it need to have an interactive multimedia installation? Should it turn into a Museum of surf culture?

Need to talk to some youth committees and find out whether there is a need to re-energise a lagging youth arts spirit. Engage young people in the making of the art with the possibility of setting up a youth arts committee or group for the council, region, area or pilot station and suggest the elders take a mentoring role for a length of time.

Some interesting questions I came across today...
What does the Mark Latham's Diaries and his subsequent interviews and press say about the Australian Male and masculinity?
The Baby Corn TV Commercial for Woolworths?
Why is Deuce Bigalow Male Gigilo making me laugh?
Does Sabrina bring her cat Salem downunder with her and will he need to be put in quarantine?

The Plovers or a deleted scene from "The Birds"

For the past week I have been accomodating a pair of nesting plovers on the front lawn of the Pilot Station.

The nest is situated in a open expanse of lawns and the plovers positioned themselves with a good view in all directions to keep a look out for potential threats. They have the front lawn totally staked out in all directions including the space between the house and the boat house constant under surveillance - the back yard between the carport and the back door is the only place where one can walk without the potential dive and swoop from the non nesting plover at the time. The plovers have yellow spurs on their wings and are pretty protective - they prepare to swoop at you by lining you up whilst they are on the ground then they lift off up and high and fast and begin to come straight towards you at head height.

The nesting birds swap positions on occaision relieving each other of the nesting duties keeping the eggs warm and communicating with a high (ish) pitched stacatto squawk that usually came in threes when danger threatens.

Deluding myself into thinking I was some kind of nature photographer for a David Attenborough doco I decided on my second day of the residency that I would video the plovers on an ad hoc basis when something interesting was happening and I happened to be in the house. I have set up the tripod in the front corner study ready for any "action" that may arise. The footage is rivetting!

I have been swooped by the plovers now on four occaisions.

The first was whilst I was chatting with Jenni (my trusty project coordinator) on the front porch. It was then I learnt the hands up technique: When the plover is swooping towards you, raise hands above head or over your face. Whilst Jenni was fine with this technique, the duck and crouch instinct that I found I was suddenly practicing to be just as effective at short notice.

Both techniques are suitable when stationary yet slightly difficult with a cup of tea in your hand.

The second time I was carrying equipment from the house to the boat shed. The gap between the boat shed and the house is about 3 to 4 meters. I was wearing a red t-shirt at the time and holding a computer screen. It was my second or third trip between the buildings, and I must have appeared to the bird like some computer game character traversing within range repeatedly back and forth, something like the old super Ninetendo game Duck Shooter except I was the duck and the bird had the gun accessory included in the package! I decided that I would wear my khaki green jacket over the bright t-shirt to see if they would swoop again. Luckily this camoflage worked and all technical equipment was placed safely in the technical equipment hold.

The third time I was being shown the signal shed by Glen (gate keeper of the pilot station). The signal shed is where the marine flags were kept to signal to the boats off shore back in the days when the pilot station was operating. It is positioned in the front yard approximately 15-20 metres directly in front of the boat shed and say about 10 metres from the front right hand corner of the house. The plovers are between the house and the signal shed. The signal shed looks like a slightly larger outside dunny and its very cute with the fourty odd shelves for the signal flags still inside just waiting for each shelf to filled with a collection of items to signify a story (installation ideas maybe?). To get to the signal shed we decided to make a break for it whilst keeping a wide berth from the nesting birds. This was tempting fate, I admit, and as I was running through the clearing with my fist raised above my head to make myself slightly taller than normal I collected the swooping plover in the chest. Upon reaching the locked door of the signal shed I turned to view some of its feathers drift to the ground. Suffice to say we took an even wider berth on the way back, with a similar reaction from the birds.

The forth time was today - but in between then and today - I am slightly proud to announce that I am the "uncle" of four plover chicks. Three appeared a couple of days ago and I managed to video them staggering around the nest on Tuesday. The fourth one didn't appear until today. I was out all day from very early and arrived back home at around 4pm to find the whole plover family staking out the back yard! Now ... to get to the back door with shopping and bag in hand along with the key ready to open the back door whilst fending off swooping birds and not stepping on the chicks was not a viable option. So I calmly stamped loudly, walked sideways, keeping my eye on the plovers at all times (as they were both preparing to swoop) and thrust my bag infront of me as I stomped, making me appear like some sort of spastic crab edging around the side tree and towards the front door to safety.

It was here that I promptly discovered that none of my keys would open the front door.

Depositing the shopping for later retrieval at the front door I then edged with my bag in the more or less than effective "thrusting from the chest position" around the side tree, and again towards the back door where I was swooped by both birds whilst they too were also both trying to shepherd their flightless young in the same counterclockwise direction around the house. This major manouvre on both fronts, with me trying to defend the recently challenged front line of the back yard and them retreating with chicks running eveywhere was distressing to say the least. At one point it crossed my mind to drop everything and suggest that we all worked this out diplomatically with me quite possibly taking care of the young on the odd occasion as the mother and father looked for food perhaps or maybe put their feet up and have a rest from the constant hungry mouths. But reasoning with a plover at this stage was not to be entertained. In between more lound stamps and thrusts from my bag with the keys fumbling in my hand I finally made it to the back door and quickly let myself in. For about an hour or so afterwards from any window in the house I spied the plovers and they spied me with a certain distrust in both our eyes.

Today:
Secured an installation site in Port Macquaire for their Aquasculpture week,
Visited The Marine Museum in Port Macquiarie and inadvertantly made comments about getting ones sea legs to a one legged man - slighly embarrassing.
Interviewed on ABC radio and for local paper.
Met with local council to try and work out what second hand technology I required.

I think things are coming together in my head - but second guessing my self all the time and hoping I am going in a direction that is possible. I am looking forward to finding people to work with so I can download all of this stuff in my head and collaborate on a direction. Roll on Sunday where hopefully some people will rock up to a meet and greet me.

"Come On Feel The Illinoise" by Sufjan Stevens - top album

the first entry from camden head

Well it's been almost a week (6 days 23 hours and 47 minutes to be prescise) since I arrived by train at Kendall NSW and was greeted by Janet and Glen, transported through darkening scenery to the Camden Head Pilot Station. A lot, I am sure, has happened since I left Adelaide but I don't feel I have done very much towards the residency.

A lot of thinking perhaps.

I have only just been connected up to the net today and spent the last 5 hours downloading and responding to emails. The phone connection at the house has been faulty and it's taken this long to get it fixed up. As I intended to keep this blog going on a daily basis to keep track of my thoughts and travels on this little sojourn, I will endeavour to catch up on the last week and a half through subsequent posts.

Canberra was cold. I realised I hadn't been to Canberra for over twenty years. I would like to go back again and spend a week visiting museums and places of "national relevance".

The Bill Viola exhibition which I travelled all the way to our nations capital to see "The Passions" was mostly remarkable. I say mostlly because I felt that some the of the more staged pieces didn't capture the emotion he was supposedly searching for and asking us to empathise with. "Observance" where a procession of people came forward towards the camera to pay their last repects to an unseen coffin, and "The Quintet of The Astonished" where five people were shown reacting to an unseen phenomenon, were too contrived and prescriptive. If Viola wanted to make me feel sadness or be astonished I would have rather seen what the videod characters were seeing. The best piece was the "Five Angels for the Millenium" five huge screens with a sound track to match, of a person diving into the water from various perspectives, speeds, colours forwards or backwards. The bubbles of the water looked like milky ways in the sky. It simply was quite stunning and certainly had a rejoicing or releasing effect on the veiwer. "Emergence" the piece that resembled the look of a traditional religious painting of the passion was at times interesting but again a bit to staged. "Catherine's Room", 5 small screen depicting a time of day and activity of a character within the same room however was poetic and quite mesmerisng.

Basically spent the whole day in the National Gallery with Colin Koch and little Finn whilst Alex Reid was attending Long Paddock. Finn was very good and appreciative of many of the works especially Ron Mueke's Pregnant Woman - larger than life naked pregnant woman with incredible detail and presence. Spent over $200 in books and art gallery paraphenalia - got this really cool book featuring the latest graphic novelists and comic drawers which made me want to draw comics that night. I attempted to depict two slighly surreal money situations that happened to me that day in my sketch book that night and on Saturday night whilst watching the tv just doodled some little charcters on a page. I should do that more often - especially drawing characters which I have never really done before.

Canberra to Sydney via Qantas and then Sydney to Kendall via rail the next day - a long day of travelling.

Today I spent looking up Maritime Flag Signals and Semaphore signals on the net (after 4 hours of emails) - there is a Signal Shed meters away from the house that was used to store the flags for communicating to the boats out at sea - there is something attractive about distress - distress in the environment, personal distress, distress in cultures. I will look further into this.