A journal of questionable quality

Thursday, January 27, 2005

more of the same..

Australia Day yesterday.

Rain, wind, wet, remain.

A day investigating various styles of some of the better known Australian illustrators, my very favorite being Ashley Wood, go there this very moment and see what a wonderful style that man has. I would have informed you of his abilities months ago, even longer, but I misplaced him somewhere in the BigMac sized collection of favorites I burden IE with, finally found him again after remembering that his name was Woods, not Smith as I has named him.

Still in Australia, in deference to yesterdays holiday to celebrate all things Australian, Design is Kinky, remains a unique collection of all things design, requiring a daily visit by me so that I may be in formed of anything I need to be exposed to and plenty that I don't.

Interestingly, what little I know about Ashley Woods I gleaned form a profile done on him by DesignisKinky.

Ben Templesmith, another unique artist, from West Australia, same as Ashley Wood, maybe it's something in the water?

Whatever it is it's good, great actually, art, a style that suits my brain (not always a good thing), and a style that seems to have the effect of making you want to pick up a brush and have a go too. In my case it would be double click the Painter icon and set about trying to emulate them.

I have to inform the world that Painter 9 is the nearest thing to actually working with the real thing, if I was wise enough to buy a tablet I believe I could have myself a fine time with it.

The sheer naked ability of the program really is brilliant, and that coming from someone who views all software that promises to emulate real world as evil.

But, before the abortive attempt to copy someone with real talent, by someone with no talent, another trip to the pool.

First, step into the garage and stare threateningly at bike. Makes bike remember who's boss. Makes bike appreciative that I don't try and ride it in the rain. Bike remembers last time.

Pool. This time fully confident, strutting even. Reflection of shaven headed paunchy male waddling toward glass door makes strut stop immediately.

Double the amount of laps. Impressed. Still have to stop at each end and check if heart is actually going to keep beating that fast.

Madly flailing along an approximately straight line brings me into conflict with a vacuum hose attached to some crustacean like equipment waiting on the pool floor for people like me. Huge fight ensues. A draw. The pulsing noise I had heard in my ears was in fact the underwater sound of the machine not my heartbeat as I had previously thought.

Manage to stagger from pool, apply shirt to body backwards, unable to remove because of wet/sweat cling. Major fight under my own clothes, flapping about looking like a person with no head.

Pleased to be home.

All that one day after Australia Day - too much for one week in my life. Weather attempting to clear, bike cringing.


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