Better be better than the last one

I'm going to be in the wilds of Wanganui for the evening and next day, visiting my brother Ben, who's the Tylee Cottage resident at the moment (followed by Mr Couper), so here's to you, hope you have a good one:

Truly unbelievable

The two things I really can't handle at the moment are noise and people. I was woken this morning by our neighbour putting up scaffolding right next to our bedroom window, from where the bastard can look in the window and down into the (previously private) courtyard where I like to smoke cigarettes (which I'm smoking a lot of at the moment), and now no matter where I go I can't escape the extremely loud, continuous noise of hammers, drills, scrapers, etc.

Good news

Daniel Johnston is home from hospital:

As recently as last week, family members were advised that Daniel would require long-term medical care and permanent dialysis for kidney failure. But early this week that prognosis changed drastically and the artist is now at home with functioning kidneys and a renewed zeal for pursuing his songwriting and art.

Family members describe the episode as a serious infection that caused kidney failure and resulted in dangerous distortion of prescription medications in his system. The infection proved to be highly resistant to antibiotics and prolonged the uncertainty of the cause and his recovery.

In the hospital, Daniel had a wall covered with cards, pictures, letters, and emails from supportive fans, which he reportedly packed up to take home with him on Friday. "I didn't know where I was or how I got there," Daniel is reported to say after weeks of semi-conscious state. "But this has happened to me plenty of times before".

This is a both a reference to memories of waking up in a mental institutions and that he sometimes wakes up in some part of the world performing on tour and is uncertain where he is, his brother explained.

On the ride home, Daniel was exuberant. "Hallelujah! Freedom! I feel like an escaped mental patient."

My consciousness returns like a bloated corpse to shore

She's been a full on couple of days. Not all bad, even pleasant moments here and there, but I'm beginning to suspect the gods are conspiring to drive me completely insane - one thing after another, it's unbelievable. There's been synchronicity aplenty and a few bizarre touches as well, not least the craziness in the car park at Nana's retirement home and all the old people lined up waiting at the door when we went to visit and do the family thing on the morning of the 25th.

Speaking of synchronicity, I'd stayed up late and had got up early (before the kids even) cos I wanted to finish this drawing while it was still in my head. It's a first stab at what I call a pscychocosmological map. Later on I discovered Rose had got me a book on imaginary maps that's going to be very useful indeed. She hadn't realised it, but it even had an essay on the maps of Arthur Ransome from the Swallows and Amazons books, which I've been getting into a lot recently.

Here's to a consumerist frenzy based on a Christian myth slopped on top of a pagan ritual

Sun going down through the Pohutukawa tree in the back garden where we had dinner:

The wild beast enjoys her spoils:

Back in the world (sort of)

Rose came and picked me up this morning. An unexpected visitor, setting off the car alarm inadvertently, and a guy having pump rage behind me while we were getting petrol on the way back have not helped. Neither did leaving stuff behind and forgetting to do other things. Needless to say I haven't even thought about doing Xmas shopping till I was confronted with the tree in the corner (this is what happens when I'm not here to maintain ideological rigour). I don't think I can face the madness that town will be either, so will just have to incur yet more utu obligations.

Zombied

I had a brief period of consciousness this morning, but I've been asleep all the rest of the time. Last day here as well. I need to suss out what I need to do before departing - this might take some time.

Waikanae views

View from McF's lounge, with Kapiti in the background:

Garden and cat:

And if you feel like something else to look at, you can't check out Couper's drawing of Mark E Smith but you can admire his one of Jad Fair, among others.

Start the programming now...

I found this in my sketchbook, which I'd been meaning to do for Ben's 1 yo twins' room for some time, and today seemed ideal, seeing as I can just leave it here and all. It's called Word painting (ABC):

And to use the title of this post in a completely different sense, check out Simon Sweetman's blog.

The here and now

It's been a fairly harrowing day, but I'm now feeling pretty good. I'm ensconced in McF's place in Waikanae up the Coast, and very pleasant it is too. Rose drove me up and helped me suss out the 20 point instruction list for 'bare maintenance' of the household that's been left for me before leaving me to it. I want to see the full maintenance set, with maps and diagrams and all.

I have a ridiculous amount of stuff with me. Snide remarks such as '300 books for 3 days' were made as we were leaving the olds. My answer was that you never know what you're going to want to consult, but I didn't let on I'd picked up more from Rose's. I can't conceive how I'm going to begin considering how to sort my life out at the moment, so I'm not going to worry about it, relax, and do stupid drawings (i.e. not worry how they come out either), hence the need for reference material.

I went to see the doctor today and he's upped my dosage to 'a more therapeutic level' (I think is what he said (my memory is shot, along with other basic cognitive functions, so I s'pose 20 point lists aren't entirely out of order)). It may well zombify me again, but I think I can cope with that.

Oh yeah, I've sussed how to deal with these panic attack things. Part of it is you start to breathe rapidly and shallowly, so you just breathe in deep slowly and measuredly through your nose, hold it for a sec, and then let it out slowly and measuredly through your mouth a few times till your heart rate's come down. Sweet as.

Of course you don't think of these basic things when you're spinning out (which is partly why I've written it out in full like this - to help fix it in my head).

Random thoughts

Isn't it funny that the contradictory phrases 'free as a bird' and 'pecking order' both make sense?

I've been up the hill again, watching the birds and finishing off a drawing. I also managed to fluke it so that I could watch the leaders duel round the first mark of the local yacht club's race.

Look out from the top and it's apparently all wild and free. Turn around and it's all tame and suburban. Both sets of views, however, show clear signs of the land's use (and abuse) by people. We don't see what's objectively there (otherwise everything'd be upside down). We see what our brain's made of the signals it has received based on its previous experience. We see what we've learnt to see.

Patterns on the water can indicate a gust coming, a bunch of clouds on the horizon can indicate land over there, the shape of trees can indicate the direction of the prevailing winds, but they don't necessarily do so. There is meaning in everything, but it's all dependent on context. Not only do two different people see two different versions of the same thing but so does the same person at two different times.

Sitting in the sun can addle your brain.

Strangeness

I've had a very strange last few days. I find being around people extremely difficult. I'm going to house-sit for my friend Ben and feed their cats for a few days next week and try to get my head together.

Titahi Bay and environs

Looking back from left to right. Radio mast and Pauatahanui Inlet:

Porirua harbour and city:

Titahi Bay:


The olds' place is down there somewhere, a short walk from the beach. People drive their cars on to it, the boathouses seem to be more full of fridges of beer than boats, and at low tide you can see and stand on the petrified remains of a forest. The whole area's got an interesting history.

The views from the hill next to my olds' place...

This hill here in fact:

On the way up. Looking out:

Looking down:

Looking back at the entrance to Porirua harbour:

At the top. The entrance to Titahi Bay:

Mana Island:

The Marlborough Sounds are off there in the distance.

On a vaguely related note, the effects of the new pills are quite different than the old ones. At first I was a real zombie - couldn't read, couldn't draw - but that's been getting better. I tried posting a couple of days ago but couldn't.

I get these full on panic attacks but (brought on by any kind of stress it seems, even the smallest amount). My hands shake heaps, my heart races, I get all confused, and I can't remember anything. It doesn't help that the vast majority of human beings seem to be selfish assholes.

Oh, and for boring technical reasons I can receive email okay, but sending it is a real pain. There's an easy fix I think, but I'm not up to working it out at the moment.

Strange weekend

I've had a strange weekend. Friday night was not so good. Saturday and Sunday nights were. I've had some really good conversations with friends old and new.

I'm going to stay with the olds for a while, probably from tomorrow.

Catharsis

This one's in response to gothamimage's suggestion:

Pencil, pen, watercolour, and blood. It's all jiggly at the top cos I was holding it at the bottom above the scanner and my hands were shaking a lot. Fight the fockers with sorcery I reckon.

And then my magic art powers failed me...

No pictures today. I did try to sit down to do some drawing but couldn't work out where to even begin. I tried lying in the sun and reading, but that didn't work either - just couldn't take it in. For most of the last couple of days I've been smoking lots of cigarettes and listening to Daniel Johnston, the Fall's new album, the Beatles, selections from Johnny Cash's American III and IV albums (one song in particular over and over), Bonnie Prince Billy's I see a darkness, some Bongwater I used to be into and only recently rediscovered, and lots of classic NZ music from my youth.

We've got people putting up scaffolding around the house. I find being around people difficult at the moment and might have to find somewhere else to hide tomorrow (oh right, it'll actually be later on today).

Bloody life.

Don't know about this one...

Update on previous post

Okay, so I went to the doctor, and he looked pretty freaked out and immediately said we're stopping the medication and trying something else in a few days' time with sedatives for the interim. Apart from that, all I remember of the ensuing conversation was getting really confused and totally losing the plot at one point and him using the words 'acute case' and 'hypomania' somewhere in there. Good thing Rose was there.

Some documentation

I think the term side-effect's a bit of a misnomer. Surely a drug has a range of effects, and what we call side-effects are simply the set of unintended effects from the particular combination of effects a particular drug that's been designed to perform only one or two has. I've started some medication recently and am now about to attempt to document the unintended effects I've been experiencing the last few days.

I haven't been sleeping. I've been stumbling a lot and all jittery and agitated. I've been raving a lot but also really forgetful, often completely forgetting a conversation minutes after it's happened. I've been replacing words with others that sound similar but bear no other relation to the one I meant in that context. I've been making all sorts of stupid spelling and punctuation errors, which is very uncharacteristic. I've been getting obsessively focused on one thing for hours at a time. It's been quite fun to be honest, and useful, but I'm extremely difficult to be around and interact with. I'm putting Rose through the wringer. Hopefully it'll settle down soon.

Paul and I went to and tidied up the studio last night, which was a particularly good thing to do - getting rid of the piles of chaos and beer bottles.

Sitting in the cafe reading the paper yesterday

This morning

I couldn't sleep last night, so stayed up all the night doing this:



Then I went for a walk to watch the dawn:

Dreadful news

Daniel Johnston's been hospitalised for what appears to be poisoning from the medicine that's allowed him to be so productive recently.

(Pic nicked from here.)

Translations of a couple of Nahuatl poems

I, Cuauhtencoztli, here I am suffering.
What is, perchance, true?
Will my song still be real tomorrow?
Are men perhaps real?
What is that will survive?
Here we live, here we stay,
but we are destitute, oh my friends!

Here's part of one by Nezahualcoyotl, tlatoani (king or lord, literally 'spokesperson') of Texcoco and famous poet:

Ponder this, eagle and jaguar knights,
Though you are carved of in jade, you will break;
Though you are made of gold, you will crack;
Even though you are a quetzal feather, you will wither.
We are not forever on this earth;
Only for a time are we here.

Speaking of the barbaric Yankee dialect...

What's with the way they use close quotes? I've read a fair amount of American style and usage guides in my time (for my day job - it's important to know your enemy) and have yet to find a rational explanation.

A few more tweaks

I've sussed out how to email posts. I've changed the date format from the barbaric American system to the proper logical one and've added a couple more links to the right there (funnily enough, they're both Yanks, but it's sweet as - they both seem cool).

Update: Okay, added another link to balance things up a tad (this one's from Denmark no less). I need to learn some new languages. Being a monoglot's getting me down. Nahuatl'd be good.

After I die

I need to check out the legality of this, but I want to do up my skull somewhat like these (specifically the Asmat ones) - though of course in a contemporary Pakeha style. I'm also considering getting some tattoos to adorn my flayed skin. For some reason, Rose doesn't seem too keen to be left these in my will, but I'm sure she'll come round.

Time for a new look

I thought I'd try a new template. Well, the fact that I broke the other one had something to do with it, but I reckon this one's not too shabby (though I don't know about the picture of what appears to be leaves and grapes in the header).

Oh yeah, and the way they don't put spaces after the colons in the 'About me' section really annoys me.

Stupid quiz time

Lilly nicked a quiz from Rose, so it's only right and proper I nick one from her in return. This is it:

This Is My Life, Rated
Life:	4.9
Mind:	4.6
Body:	5.1
Spirit:	3.8
Friends/Family:	6.3
Love:	7.3
Finance:	3.7
Take the Rate My Life Quiz

It's silly, but it's still pretty dismal. Of course they've got an agenda going on - but that'll be me showing my low spirit score by being cynical and distrustful no doubt.

I'm below the average score on everything but the two things they reckon our materialistic (in the sense of being consumerist rather than the philosophical sense I assume, though given their religious bias they probably don't distinguish betyween the two) society lacks - actual connections to human beings. Not bad for a nihilist, eh?

Hiding out

I haven't been very well recently, and the doctor's given me some time off from the world. Apologies to those who may have received rambling, incoherent, and somewhat freaked out phonecalls recently (my memory's a bit vague on this point).

I did venture out for the Mary Newton first birthday bash yesterday, which was really good. I spent quite a bit of time chatting and comparing notes with Bryan Dew, who I liked very much. He gave me some technical tips as well that I'm keen to play around with when I get back into the studio.

I've been reading The Conquest of Mexico by Hugh Thomas, a truly brutal and horrific tale. I started it just after reading Discoveries: The Voyages of Captain Cook by Nicholas Thomas (I assume the authors are not related). The contrast between the two is pretty full on.

Something else to look at

Check out Victor's new website. It's really snazzy - both the website and the artwork (ha, ha, both the form and content as it were).

Ticking along slowly

Yeah, yeah, so it's not that much different to this.

Synchronicity

Some of the studio conversations mentioned in a previous post (not to mention being accused of being a progressive modernist in a separate incident) tie in rather spookily with something I found recently that I wrote as a note to my future self in early 2002, paraphrasing the main argument of a book I'd just read:

The modernist project, tied in with the growth and rise to dominance of the art market, sustained itself by bringing the margins to the centre whenever the centre got played out. Unfortunately, there's no distinction between the margins and the centre any more. Pluralism's seen to that.

In this situation, image and networking are what determines who gets taken up. The connection with late-capitalist business is obvious: identical products are distinguished by branding. There is no truth or essential meaning any more. That is axiomatic. All that is left is irony. Both art and advertising favour word games, paradoxes, juxtaposition, and cheap attention-grabbing tricks.

I'm a very strong believer in doing stuff for your own benefit. Ignore the one-trick ponies and gimmick art. Don't worry about who's hot or not. Stay away from what PKD called reflex-arc machines (people who've turned themselves into things). Just do what you like and get it out there, and hopefully you'll make connections with other authentic human beings.

Ripping links off BoingBoing time again

These are both brilliant:

MIT scientists test aliminium foil hats and conclude the craze among conspiracy theorists was actually started by the government to improve the efficacy of their mind control rays.

A Japanese primatologist reckons mobile phones are making the young behave like chimpanzees.

Okay then

A night off turned into a weekend off. I've been reading books, watching films, and sleeping a lot. It's something you need to do now and then.

Various stuff

Night off from painting tonight. I haven't been overly productive of late (unless you count turning a perfectly good painting into an overworked mess that is), but I have been having some good conversations with visitors to the studio (which has been pretty productive in its own way).

Stephen's playing Happy tomorrow night. I haven't been to the Walters influence show at Pataka yet (I was going to go to the opening on Saturday but wasn't feeling well enough), but it definitely looks worth a visit or two. Also check out White Fungus if you haven't already.

Three different stages

So they aren't the greatest photos, but at least you can compare them with earlier stages.

How she's looking

Some of these are Paul's, but you'll have to work out which yourself.

And now for something completely different

I thought those of you with no experience of it might be interested in the following:

Editing principles
The main aim of editing is to remove any barriers between the reader and what the writer wants to convey. Editing ensures the text is clear and consistent; has good grammar, spelling, and punctuation; and has a sensible structure. The reader usually only notices editing when it is lacking.

Strictly speaking, if something is not inconsistent, grammatically wrong, or factually incorrect, it should not be changed. A common error is for an editor to rewrite in their own style. Every change must be justifiable and must not affect the author’s intended meaning or voice.

Types of editing
Structural editing
Structural editing, which is sometimes called substantive editing, involves clarifying or reorganising the text’s content and structure. The editor may suggest changes for the author to make or may rearrange and rewrite the material in consultation with the author.

Copy-editing
Copy-editing involves detailed editing for sense and checking for consistency. It is sometimes called line editing. When editing for sense, the editor looks at each sentence to clarify meaning, eliminate jargon, and ensure that it meets the requirements of house style and English grammar and usage.

House style
Every element in published material follows a style. Spelling, punctuation, capitalisation, etc can be rendered in different ways that are equally correct. In order to be consistent across publications, most publishers have preferences on which variant they use. These preferences are known as the publisher’s house style and are usually documented in a style guide. A house style is distinct from the generally accepted rules of grammar, spelling, and usage (which are usually inviolable in good writing). Editors apply both when carrying out their work.

Some common misconceptions
Put commas where you would pause when speaking or to break up a long sentence
Commas are arguably the most abused form of punctuation. Although there is great latitude in their use, there are some circumstances where including or omitting a comma is mandatory.

A common error is to use a comma to join two unrelated main clauses. This causes a comma splice and can be fixed by adding a co-ordinating conjunction, replacing the comma with a semicolon, or separating the clauses into two sentences.

A comma must never be used to separate a restrictive (defining) word, phrase, or clause. A restrictive word, phrase, or clause cannot be removed from a sentence without affecting the meaning. In the sentence “The man who was wearing a suit stood up”, “who was wearing a suit” defines which man stood up.

A comma must be used to separate a non-restrictive (non-defining) word, phrase, or clause. A non-restrictive word, phrase, or clause is not essential to the meaning of the sentence but comments on, or adds information to, the main clause. In the sentence “David, who was wearing a suit, stood up”, “who was wearing a suit” adds information about the man who stood up but could be removed without affecting the meaning of the sentence.

A comma must never separate the subject and verb of a sentence. This is a common fault in sentences where the subject is long and there would be a natural pause when speaking.

The semicolon is a “super” comma
There are only two legitimate circumstances where you can use a semicolon. One is to separate two unrelated main clauses that could have been joined by a co-ordinating conjunction or treated as separate sentences. The other is to separate elements in a list that themselves contain commas.

Never end a sentence with a preposition
Nineteenth-century grammarians, in a misguided attempt to make English more like Latin (which they considered more logical than, and hence superior to, English), made up some rules that have proved remarkably resilient despite their patent silliness. This is one of them. The artificiality that results from slavish adherence to this “rule” is exemplified by Winston Churchill’s cutting observation that “This is the sort of English up with which I will not put.”

Never split an infinitive
This is another pseudo-rule taken from Latin by nineteenth-century grammarians and inappropriately grafted on to English (which is a Germanic language). The only thing wrong with Captain Kirk’s injunction “to boldly go where no man has gone before” is its sexism, which leads me to…

“They” is not a singular pronoun
“They” has been used as a singular pronoun since at least the fourteenth century, until those pesky prescriptivist grammarians from the nineteenth century naively interpreted Latin-based rules of grammatical agreement and ruled that “they” should be used only in the plural. Therefore there is no need for cumbersome new constructions such as “he or she” when a perfectly good old word will do.

George Orwell’s rules
In his classic essay “Politics and the English Language”, George Orwell set out six rules for effective writing:
1. Never use a metaphor, simile, or other figure of speech which you are used to seeing in print.
2. Never use a long word where a short one will do.
3. If it is possible to cut a word out, always cut it out.
4. Never use the passive where you can use the active.
5. Never use a foreign phrase, a scientific word, or a jargon word if you can think of an everyday English equivalent.
6. Break any of these rules sooner than say anything outright barbarous.

Anus by Anon

Sums up the night really.

In other news, I've not been at the studio since Thursday. I got a bit stuck on stuff and wanted to take a bit of a break so I could come back to it with fresh eyes. I've been drinking beer and reading William Burroughs (big cheers to Stephen) and Arthur Ransome. They might not seem to go together to the casual eye but they do. I should relate my theory that Arthur Ransome, despite being an MI6 agent, was one of the great anarchist heroes of the 20th century at some time.

Yet more pics

Here's a general view, with Piero and Beckmann staring down admonishingly:

Here's what's on the wall at the moment:

Astute observers will notice the same painting in two different states in the two pics.

The four canvas thing has been giving me gyp, but I think I've got the compositions sussed. With any luck, I'll have them nailed this evening. I want to get them all drawn up before starting on the underpainting - do them as a group.

State of it

Here's where we're at:

These first two are new. This one is what will be the first of four related ones (the start and the finish):

This one will be The first word: the nothingness:

And, finally, this one is coming along nicely:

Oh, and I thought I should remind you that you can click on any of these suckers to see 'em bigger.

Some more pics (in various stages of completion)

Mind body problem:

Self-portrait with Harbour Cone:

As yet untitled:

Also as yet untitled:

Studio pics

The studio-ho

I've finally got into the studio. It was meant to be vacated on Thursday night (when I started paying for the sucker) but wasn't until I was at the Puddle on Friday night (brilliant gig by the way - George played for about three hours solid - keep your eyes peeled for forthcoming albums).

As well as hangovers to contend with, we had Mum and Ben and Ang round for lunch on Saturday, so I didn't actually start moving stuff in till Saturday arvo. I spent most of today there and got heaps done. It was really good. The two small ones I was working are shaping up nicely, and I've started another. I'm thinking of painting over the new one though. I think the composition might suit a bigger canvas, and have something else that will fit this canvas better.

I was expecting to be able to post some photos of the nice sun streaming in the skylight and the nice view out the window, but they haven't appeared in the old email yet (even though the crappy photos I don't want to post and sent at the same time have - typical).

The codex

Mum brought me some really useful books back from Mexico, including a reconstruction of the Codex Borgia. I went along to the Gregor Kregor opening on Monday and kept pulling it out and enthusing to people about it. I get into my new studio tomorrow evening, and want to get stuck into some new paintings. I've still got a couple to finish off, but I think I might get started on some others first off. Nothing wrong with having several on the go at once - in fact there's something to be said for it.

Oh yeah, and Rose has finally got around to updating her blog.

Miscellaneous blither

I neglected to mention the couple of openings we went to on Tuesday night: John Walsh at Janne Land and Chris Clements at Mary Newton. I managed to spectacularly smash a beer on the nice concrete floor at the John Walsh one, and didn't stick around at the Chris Clements one cos it was so packed. I really liked the work though - particularly the way the images and titles reinforced the groupings. Go and check it out.

Went to Enjoy last night, for the closing thing of Mike Heynes' Schlock Horror. I really enjoyed Dragstrip. He reckons he's used to hiding behind a PA but having this direct and immediate relationship with the audience really worked well.

Paul, Matt, and I ended up drinking beer back here and listening to records while Rose tried to do some work (good eh?). She's got a ridiculous amount on, which is why her blog's been interrupted indeed.

Why I hate everything

Having to delete this comment crap every single time I post is really beginning to rip my tits. It just seems emblematic of everything that's wrong with humanity. The focken Internet should've been this great thing - the whole of human knowledge at your fingertips and a way for the physically isolated (e.g. those stuck in the South Pacific instead of being in the thick of it in the middle of Europe) to keep up with what's going on, among other things - but instead it's just been captured by people wanting money and/or sex. And this from a species that claims for itself the inherent dignity of human life, which is just laughable. These puffed up pompous apes strutting around pretending they're not controlled by their gonads and venal self-interest. Pathetic. Focken latrine fillers.

Sunday redux

Check out Stephen's version of events.

Catching up

Spent the weekend catching up with people. After Matt and Victor had finished verbally dissecting my work on Saturday, Paul came round to drink beer in the sun and smoke a lot.

On Sunday, Sandra, Paul, and I went to see Dutch Light at the doco film fest. I really enjoyed the film, despite some people in it saying some annoyingly stupid things. It was good to see an artistic subject being treated seriously. I won't be going to anything else at the fest but.

We hooked up with Stephen afterwards. He should've come to the film with us, and would've too if I'd knocked on his door when I was standing right outside it. But I'm stupid, so I didn't, so he missed it. We drank beer in a couple of different dives around town before heading back to Paul's (and hopefully soon to be my) studio to make plans for laying out the space to maximise usable wall area, usable bench area, and viewing distances. Sweet mate. I can feel it in my bones. It's going to be good.

Of course yesterday was the first day of daylight saving, so getting up this morning was grim, especially as it was raining to boot.

Quote of the day:

Painting, n.: The art of protecting flat surfaces from the weather, and exposing them to the critic. - Ambrose Bierce

Studio fun

I've just had a couple of friends come round to check out what I've been up to in the garage. They both had useful and constructive comments to make. Story.

Saturday morning

I'm about to head up to the garage to put some more layers of underpainting on. I'm taking these ones pretty slowly - just getting used to oils again.

At 11 am this morning we will apparently have the official final election results. That will be interesting.

Update after 11: Ironically enough, the Nats lost a seat to the Maori Party (they don't get an extra seat though - because the Maori Party's share of the party vote went up, the overhang is reduced at the Nats' expense). The Greens' position seems unchanged.

Comment spam

I've disabled anonymous comments because of the amount of comment spam I've been getting. I hate anonymous comments anyway. As a general principle, I reckon that if you don't have enough courage in your convictions to put your name to your opinion then that opinion's pretty worthless.

In other news, I've surprised myself by really enjoying my new job. I'm also really getting into the old oil painting. I think the trick is not caring about having a finished art work at the end of it but just playing around for playing around's sake. Ironically, I've flicked out the pingers for some flash materials for it.

I've been a bit down recently, and am feeling a whole lot better now. There's one thing still on my mind that's somewhat distracting, but I'm trying not to worry about that now and will deal with it in a wee while. I need to concentrate on work (in both senses of the word) at the moment.

Leonardo

The Guardian has a thing on the underdrawing of Leonardo's unfinished Adoration. Ignore the stupid bollocks about that stupid book. If you took that at face value you'd end up with a very weird stunted and misshapen view. It's important to put it into an actual historical context and make associations from that, not from a made up one.

Three days in

I've started the new job. The first couple of days were pretty full on, getting my head round a new place and new culture, but today was easier. I'm still not sure how I'll go. I think it'll be pretty sweet though - formal language and the past unreal.

I started painting in oils again for the first time in years again on Saturday. I'm just playing around, getting the Skeleton Guy out of the studio and into the landscape. It's been really good, except my garage cum studio is not exactly well ventilated and I've ended up making myself quite sick. I'm about to head up there for some more now.

Full on

Back from our crazy driving up and down the South Island trip. Too much driving in too little time. I'm only beginning to recover now, and I was a passenger. I may blither on about it when I'm more compos mentis, but for now I've added a completely unrelated new link to the right there to check out. If you're really keen you could always have a gander at the Christchurch art scene - of which we had a bizarre experience at the dinner after Matt's opening. And of course a selection of touristy photos is a must.

The Kaikoura coast (including seals):






Looking towards Portobello on the Otago Peninsula from above Port Chalmers:



And towards the heads, plus a couple of things from Oamaru and Portobello: