Keeping 'the art of
making' alive in our community becomes an important responsibility. Why?
Because we, the homeless artists of door3, believe society and the community
needs artists. Artists are important because they
are brave enough to still play. To play with old and new materials, with old
and new techniques, they reveal the magic which is inherent in them.
Consider this, and then imagine the alternative, life without art and
poetry. I mean the art and poetry of everything. Doing without the art of
sculpture, the art of architecture, the art of ceramics, the art of dance, the
art of cooking, and on and on. Without 'the art' all of these activities would
be dead. Meaning, they would not inspire, they would not excite, they would not
enrich. Art, like science, is important because it inspires both exploration
and greatness in all fields of human endeavour.
The artist, for whom I speak, plays, and through his or her play with
ideas and materials, occasionally comes up with a revelation, a beautiful idea,
an exquisite object, a great building, an intriguing story or a moving
The artist and the poet explore and share the possibilities of magic in
an otherwise ordinary world. They show, in one way or another, that there is
always another way. The artist and the poet are important in our community
because they teach us to play. They remind us of something as simple, but
relevant, as our childhood, when there was much magic. Much learning. The magic
found in experiencing things for the very first time. Things new.
This is what the artist and poet do, they awaken in us a sense of
wonder, which is the driver of a creative life. They take us on a journey, a
special journey, in a world where we are perishing for want of wonder, not for
want of wonders.
From the moment, many years ago, when I first bought
a piece of land, I have gardened. Vegetables, herbs and flowers. My latest
garden in Victoria, is situated next to the forest. While gardening one day, I
realised how the forest is the perfect garden. Self contained, it supports many
species. Since that moment I have modeled my garden on the forest example. Observe.
Leaving things alone mainly.
‘the exhibition of stillness’
the mid-eighties, I returned home from 8 years of traveling, during which time
my true education began, I set up a studio and started making ceramic bowls. The
inspiration of these came from a meeting with an American Indian medicine man
who, one night, took me outside and, while pointing at the first moon, a thin silver
bowl filled with light, said: “We call that the receiver”. I found this a moving
and poetic moment. I took it as my direction.
The bowl is a
most satisfactory form to work with. From that beginning my bowls have gone
through many changes. Always the same. Always different. Until this moment in
time, where the bowls are the result of my many years of bowl making.
Then, while walking in the forest recently I watched a
leaf slow-falling to the ground, I became aware of the silence of the trees. I
found myself listening.
During my ongoing journey along the ceramic path,
where each bowl represents a step, I found myself again in the forest and
there, written amongst the trees, a message. This became my inspiration for
Using imprints from the forest floor, I have created
aspects of that which speaks to us from our family of trees. Aspects such as ‘the
nothing becoming the everything’, ‘the primal stillness’, ‘things not known but
remembered’, plus ‘the total silence of decay….’
of my project starts with a return to the source. From there I find a new
direction again and again. Something raw with something refined. And there lies
the necessary tension in the work. The tension which gets the attention.