Another kind of wheel

Hidden paintings

Finding the four-leaf clover hex

There is a hex of four-leaf clovers glued to this painting. 24 leaves in total, which incidently was the age I began finding them. For about a year, every time I looked into a patch I saw one.
I had a sudden change around that time. The fifth dimension of electro-magnetics opened up and I became very conscious of this sense. And the gateway, or the first instances of this, was finding four-leaf clovers. There was even a point where I found a mound with five-leaf clovers. Although I somehow lost those.
When I returned from travelling around Australia there were only these six clovers in my big dictionary my family kept for me, the others had somehow fallen out.
This painting has evolved around these picked-up unusuals. Though, I have not seen a four-leaf clover since. And if I do, I will not pick it. But, I still look out for them, just to see that twinkle and spark that the earth once made so obvious.

When describing living adream, people want to attribute this experience to narcotics or illness. (And I subscribe to neither.) I do understand though, accepting my way of seeing might mean people have to go through the trials of paranoia possibilities, until they are free to accept that interconnection is possible.
And it is possible, just not reliable. Is there anything in the universe that is truly reliable? If there is please let me know!
Anyhow, finding four-leaf clovers is just something a person can sense out without knowing how they do it. Possibly because the reasons they find them has to do with the vast complexities within the earth giving such insight. And through this and many other experiences I know interconnection exists as more than just coincidence, it is now a sense I’m fairly conscious of. Not like ESP or prescience, more like stumbling upon the Welcome Stranger, or the Hand of Faith. But see the earth so far has not given me gold, but things like freaking four-leaf clovers!

Artworks in Apollo Bay

Fern Rainbow took some of my ceramics, found object sculptures and paintings for a ride with her punnets of plants to Apollo Bay. These artworks will be on sale at her Shiatsu practice, where you can also get a treatment for what ails you. Or, for all things permaculture Fern is there. Apparently I can grow dragon fruit in Melbourne. She’s promised me one. (Dragon fruit I love to look at as much as I love to eat, but they’re usually more expensive than a punnet of blueberries! )
Fern’s page: http://www.communitygarden.org.au/

Faceted beings

Trouble

just some dialogue I had with my computer

“How much more of this do you want to play. Could get you into trouble huh? Well, no matter.”
“Trouble is a game apparently.”
“I heard some rich bitch called her pet pooch that and Trouble inherited most of her wealth.”
“Yes, but I prefer to think about the game.”
“What kind of game is it?”
“The only kind of game.”
“There’s lots of kinds of games. Think you’re going to have to be a bit more specific.”
“A game where you can get into lots of trouble.”
“Oi, tell me what I have to do.”
“It very much depends on the circumstance.”
“Right. Doesn’t sound much like a very well set out game to me. Let me give you a few rules.”
“There are no rules. For it is when you make rules that you get into trouble.”
“So you’re not meant to get into trouble.”
“Not if it goes against your rules. And if it is trouble then it would, see. People have automatic rules that they make up. Trouble seeks to work out the boundaries of the taboo.”
“Like a who dares wins game.”
“Winning is an abstract concept.”
“Oh boy, see you later, if the game doesn’t have any rules and no one wins except abstractly, where the hell is the game but in the limbo of someone’s butt. You’ve got to have more than an umbilical cord to play with, otherwise the game will just get bloody and mind-numbingly introspective.”
“Well, that’s your limitations.”
“Can’t get into much trouble then, can I? So, do I win?”
“You’ve got to do more than you usually do to feel like you’ve got anywhere in the game. You have to at least get close to trouble to be considering that you’re playing it. But it is only when you’re in trouble that you can be for absolutely certain that the game is on.”
“Okay. But I find it a bit hard to do much without some sort of set of instructions… some sort of guide of how-to play.”
“You think about it. The more you think about Trouble, the more you get into it.”
“Don’t know if I want to.”
“Then I guess you won’t play it. But it is better to know you’re playing it, than haphazardly follow someone else who is and be right into the game without having a clue what you’re doing because you’d prefer not to taint your pretty little mind with it.”
“Now that’s asking for trouble.”
“Ah ha.”
“Okay whatever. Interesting, but, really…? I mean where do I go from there?”
“Up to you and those who affect you.”

Bit of history: Painting in teen years

I was given my great-grandfather’s oil paints when I was twelve. They were the most amazing pigments. Windsor and Newton, but early last century when paints were made with such beauty. Of course, they were really toxic too… but that was back then when people were spraying their hair daily with CFC propelled glue.

Anyhow, it was the best. When I painted I could get things out of my head and onto the canvas. Things that cluttered in there and I wasn’t allowed to talk about without seeming ridiculous, or things that just didn’t make sense to me. Painting these

thoughts, it was a meditation where I could reach inside myself and put a label to what didn’t make sense to me.

While I haven’t got pictures of all my artwork, here are the canvases have been kept by my parents. These are more than half a lifetime ago teen years, painting in the most extravagant oil pigments, not even knowing how I would never be able to buy the like again.