Rewarded?

Earlier this year, one lunch time, as I was perusing my favourite Adelaide bookstore, I discovered a Charley Harper colouring book. I'd seen Harper's art works before. They have been with me since childhood. Sharp, graphic, geometric images of birds were familiar to me. I associated them with the 60's - the colours and simple style seemed to fit with that era. I'd never known who the artist was. Since that moment in the bookshop I have searched to see more of Harper's works, amazed by how many there are and how witty they often are. An American, Charley Harper (1922 - 2007) developed his unique style, based on his life time love of nature, while studyin

g at the Art Academy of Cincinnati. If you are interested you can view some of his works here, though a Charley Harper search in Google Images will bring up many of his works.

I felt very lucky to find a small Charley Harper 2010 calendar in Readers Feast bookstore but then, having seen that, I got it in to my head that there would probably be a diary with Harper's art works in it also. I wanted it. Choosing my diary has long been something I do with care. It has to have images in it which I will enjoy through out the year. I began a search for it, looking in many book shops, even went on line to Amazon.com - all to no avail. But then, when I had put it out of my mind and almost decided on a Delicious diary, I found it! I reluctantly attended a workshop for small businesses on record keeping run by the Taxation Department. On my way to to the workshop, as I was walking past The Hill of Content Bookshop, I decided looking in there would be my reward once the workshop was over. There I found my Charley Harper 2010 Engagement Calendar - and felt doubly rewarded.

The picture on the cover is called 'The last aphid', a 1981 acrylic painting and serigraph. I don't have a favourite Charley Harper work of art. I love most of them. This one is very cute, it is called 'Love from above' and like many of Harper's works is a form of silkscreen print, known as a serigraph

and this one is clever. It is called 'Bear in the Birches'.

and these are funny; the first is called 'Br-r-r-r-r-thday', the second one 'Blackberry Jam'

It is the birds, though that I think most typifies Harper's works. Here's one example; it is called 'Green Jay'. Even though his illustrations look simple they are incredibly accurate representations of real species.

The Doily Tree

Since most of us don't know what to do with them anymore, it is a good thing that these crocheted ornamental mats don't grow on trees. But yesterday walking along Gertrude Street, Fitzroy I was cheered to see this fabulous application of the old doily. Must have taken someone hours to stitch them all into place. The person I was with wondered what the tree itself might have thought of such adornment. I think if I was a tree I'd be pleased to have my beauty honoured with such an intricate, handcrafted labour of love.

Simple and Fresh!

Trying to live "a hand made life" certainly has some benefits. Better tasting food and a great deal of satisfaction, for starters. Last night I made pizza. It takes some time and planning to make the yeast based dough but it was definitely worth the effort. Topping it with simple fresh ingredients was a good move, too.

Here's the recipe, if you're interested:

Pizza dough:

350g strong baker's flour - plus extra flour for dusting and kneading

1 teaspoon castor sugar

7g packet of dried instant yeast

few grinds of salt (half a teaspoon)

2 tablespoons olive oil

250 ml warm water

Place 1 tablespoon of the flour into a bowl with the castor sugar and yeast. Add three tablespoons of the warm water and leave in a warm place for 10 minutes, or until large bubbles appear on the surface. I put my bowl into the sink filled with warm water.

Then add the yeast mixture, olive oil, salt and remaining water to the rest of the flour. Stir with a round topped knife until mixture comes together. Then turn onto a floured board ready for kneading
Knead the dough for five minutes. This will give those arm muscles a good work out! Then place the ball of dough back in the bowl, cover with a damp tea towel and leave in a warm place for 1 hour, until dough is doubled in size.

While waiting two trays can be lightly sprayed with some olive oil spray (or greased in whatever method you prefer) and the topping for the pizza can be prepared. Preheat oven to 200 degree celsius.

I used about 150g bocconcini balls, sliced

30g grated parmesan cheese

12 cherry tomatoes sliced - I used the delectable Perino sweet snacking variety

6 swiss brown mushrooms, sliced

8 black olives, sliced

2 handfuls of baby spinach leaves, washed and torn.

When the dough is doubled in size, knock down, then divide into two. Knead each into a small bowl. Flour a rolling pin and roll each rounds. Place onto trays and use your hands to press the dough out, making the base quite thin. Then top with all the ingredients, except for the spinach leaves. Bake in oven for about 7 minutes or until the bases are crisp and golden and the cheese has melted and is golden as well. Remove from oven, sprinkle with spinach leaves. Then slice and serve. Bon appetit!

the first!

Dora Ruby is launched. This was the very first garment and it has already gone to a good home.

Other garments can be found at www.doraruby.etsy.com

What a difference 30 days can make!

I took this photo on the 8th of September. I've greeted this tree as I have greeted the day since moving in in July. I have loved it in it's dark and barren phase, timber against grey sky backdrop. Very conducive for speculating, dreaming, planning, scheming. And it has been just right for the phase of my life where it might have looked to all the world as if not much was happening here, while underneath in silence and hiddenness, new creation was stirring. Just thirty days after the first photo, I took the second one. Same window. Same tree. Now aflame with life, energy and vitality. The transformation has happened so quickly there were times I'd swear I could actually see those buds growing, unfurling into leaves. If the tree from my bedroom window is anything to go by, it must be time to let what I have been working burst forth and flourish like the green of spring.

I used to have night dreams where I was driving, just driving north, to the centre, in my car. In one dream the car was an old rounded aqua 1950's car. I had a pet snake who sat up next to me, like a curious and excited dog, its face reflected in my rear-vision mirror. I remember the feeling of elation, not from fleeing something undesirable but just being totally free of obligation - obligations to be anywhere, do anything, perhaps even, be anything. I feel my energy lift just recalling the dream. There were other versions of this dream. In another I remember, I was driving alone on an endless road surrounded by endless red earth. One Sunday afternoon, with the TV on in the background, immersed in some task or other, my attention was caught by hearing of someone doing just that: driving away from their old life into a new one. The TV program was a documentary about Dominick Dunne, author and society commentator. I stopped what I was doing and watched, mesmerized. Sorry, then that I hadn't watched the whole documentary, I was delighted to discover that another movie length documentary on this extraordinary character was being shown at the Mercury Cinema. Seeing it exceeded my expectations.

The story of Dunne's life was incredibly interesting. From an early age Dunne was fascinated by the lives of Hollywood celebrities. He made a name for himself in television and then as a Hollywood producer. His dreams came true when he moved into a mansion in Beverley Hills and began to socialise with the 'rich and famous'. The lavish lifestyle took it's toll. His wife left, no longer able to tolerate Dominick's addiction to parties, alcohol and cocaine, or his obsession with appearances. His career declined, crashed would be a more apt term, until all lay in ruins about him. It was then that he sold his possessions and got in his car and drove north, not stopping until a flat tyre in the Cascade Mountains in Oregon forced him to. There he rented a cabin and remained in seclusion for six months. He was 53 years of age. It was here that he discovered that he could write and it is this talent which he has used to earn his living ever since. First he wrote novels, then when his actress daughter was murdered by her boyfriend, he wrote about the trial of her murderer. Since that time he has continued to write for Vanity Fair. He is now 83, still writing, still fascinated by the world of the celebrity, still dapper in his dress and presentation and still starry-eyed, despite all that has happened in his life. Much of his writing has been to give voice to the victims of celebrity crime. His time in Hollywood had shown him time and time again how easy it was for the rich and famous to evade justice. It would seem that some who have wealth through fame have difficulty discerning what is real life, compounded when their wealth enables them to avoid the usual consequences of their actions. Dunne's voice has been influential in, at the least, exposing wealthy murderers to public scrutiny.
What i enjoyed most about this film was that it was the tale of a man, who, in discovering that his glittery life is hollow and insubstantial leaves it behind to find a deeper, more authentic and satisfying life. It is this kind of courage and risk taking that inspires me. That sense that we can remake ourselves, we can change the direction of our life, and that we can come back after failure.
Jim Schembri, in reviewing the film for The Age says "Reflecting on a life chequered by triumphs, failures and several career renewals, Dunne demonstrates in this fabulous documentary how the creative urge is something that refuses to age along with the body." Another reviewer, Josh Karp says that "Ultimately, Dunne has made a career out of being an insider. As much as anyone, he has lived in and among the bluebloods and Hollywood royalty. he loves it unabashedly. but he also retains the perspective of an outsider. That's what makes it work."
Dunne is garrulous, inquisitive, passionate about his work. Even now, an old man, seduced by the cult of the celebrity, a child-like naivety shines through him.
The documentary film I saw was made by Australians Kirsty de Garis and Timothy Jolley and sponsored by the Melbourne International Film Festival. It was titled simply Celebrity: Dominick Dunne. The film's website is here. If you 'Google' that title, lots of reviews will come up. It was only screened during a few sessions in Adelaide. It may return during our festival. It is available on DVD

A fresh take on an old, old story

Went to see Juno on the weekend. It was quirky, countercultural. With a good message about compromise, I thought. I liked it. Juno, the protagonist, is sassy and witty. SBS reviewer Tim Hunter says, "it's her disarming charm that makes you fall in love with her". Maybe she is a bit too smart for her own good, but then at 16, who isnt? My favourite line is after Juno tells her parents that she is pregnant and her dad asks "Who is the kid?" (meaning who is the father of the baby). Juno says, "The-the baby? I don't really know much about it other than, I mean, it has fingernails, allegedly." Another great line is in a pivotal scene: she comes home late after discovering that the perfect parents she had chosen for her baby are not so perfect afterall. Her Dad says, "Where have you been?" To which Juno replies, "oh, out dealing with something way beyond my maturity level". The juxtaposition in the film of immaturity and growing maturity is quite beautiful: Bleeker the father of the baby still sleeping in his childhood racing car bed, Juno calling a women's health clinic on a toy hamburger phone. It was really good to see a film where growing up doesnt need to be hurried and a sixteen year old can make choices that enables her to enjoy that stage of her life rather than wanting to fast forward to the next stage of development. The character of thirty something year old Mark, acting like a teenager, wistfully longing for the hipness of his youth, makes the point that each stage of life is to be lived fully and cherished, because there is no going back. Juno's family were refreshingly earthy and likeable. Integrous. They're ordinary, honest, convincingly authentic. The scenes that showed the relationship between Juno and her father and Juno and her step mother were especially delightful. The soundtrack suits: it is simple, whimsical, 'dirtmusic'. Despite the film's subject matter, there is no judgement, no moralising, no didactacism. It is refreshing, fun and generous.