And now...Sim City 2006
Mixed media installation
A residency driven project curated by Sally Breen for Artspace, NSW with Anne Kay, Josie Cavallaro, Lisa Kelly, The Wild Boys (Trevor Fry, Richard Gurney and Tim Hilton)
Pictured; L found mattress, solarised paper R install view
Writings in situ
I could watch the water all day, recording the changes and transitions I observe every time I get the chance. As the tide goes out more piers are appearing, and when it rains I can see the fugue. Rain falling on water seems one of the only times you can see the wind. Emerald gelatinous form, solid...smoothed with light, billowing. The golden purples of the afternoon, the light! The light! Swelling the mass. Harboured in this little nested bay, we are quite still and safe when it is choppy water further out. Am mesmerised by the passing of air in front of me, through me, and out to the H2O. Inside the walls I am hidden, outside I am shared. Public space reveals us, we are on show, sharing each other's breaths.
The coin bag from the bank states "DO NOT MIX DENOMINATIONS". I wonder if Juanita Neilson is buried in the concrete of the buildings on the hill. I fly out the windows and over the bay before me. Gliding and diving through airwaves, washing through the rush.
There is some graffiti on the window in studio#4; "Does the noise ever stop?"
I watch the rain, the salty water of the ocean laps it up. Gray light and haze fills the bay, as it comes down more solidly it washes and soaks. Lucid tranquility pours over us. I see the shifts in colour, intense blooms develop in the water, from bronze and steel come copper, navy green and deep browns getting murkier. A mass of sawdust and floaties arrive, casting a grotesque grunge. At night I delight in the reflected lights.
Today the water is alternately mirrored and glowing as well as shimmering and fractured. When it rains the pavement opposite looks mirrored. A woman in a red dress struts along, and I can almost see up her dress! Watching the crinkly waves lapping the wharf. Tidily re-arranging themselves to subsume, merge and then re-offer their form, irrespective of each other? The accommodating mass pleads and plies, a washing form, virtually alive. Ominous in it's darkness, but so inviting in the light.
Terrific turquoise emerald quality today. I am transfixed by it's iridescence, and flat whole, stretched like a vast mirror to the sky. Lakes of ripples, swollen with oxygen.
Ships disturb and displace the drink, as rolls come toward me, swallowing land. I watch the warships*, and note their appearances, I detail the colours of the cars across the road at the W.
Sometimes it is just play, the residency at the Gunnery. 'Let me try this with that'. I downloaded a Google map of the area and set about doing a rendition of it in locally sourced detritus. And Now: A new day; Night mergers, Offerings and Wishes
* Huge steel bulk with a killing conscience.
