Art, Memory and Mortality

A day spent with my boys. A trip to the library, some paperwork and the first meeting with some new clients: A pair of boys fresh from Brisbane over the holidays just like us.

Fbook, by minor coincidence put me in touch with friend of my father and mentor Brandon Cavallari (Gallery Link). He shared a pic of one of my works from childhood, in his house. I went looking for and found this in mine:


‘Fire of Henelon’ Acrylic. 5″x7″ 1984 aged 6.

Painted in Brandon’s studio of the time somewhere in Sydney. I remember the day and my cousin Caitlin is still slightly resentful that I used all the red and yellow before she was even really started, leaving her canvas a little ah, drab by comparison. Also proof that little boys taste in topics hasn’t changed that much in the past few hundred years. 

We exchanged a few more pictures including these two of Brandon’s:


This one of my father although laminated for protection is badly faded. I think it’s from when we lived in Balmain so about the same period as my painting above.


My friends father’s passing reminded me of an essay extract I read in Tell Me No Lies of the extraordinary The American Way of Death. Let me say with absolute certainty that I do not want an open casket funeral when my time comes. In fact the quicker you can get me mixing (hygienically) with the biosphere the better. I take great comfort in knowing that my atoms once belonged to stars and will again someday.

Trying to get that terrain card over and done with now. Oh and I’ve some Hallmarkish cards to produce as well.

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