Show Me The Treasure

Home Archive for March 2015

at 19:50

Gloves Gone West ? Apply Here.

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This tribute to lost glovers everywhere sits on top of a traffic box, just outside the Australian Museum. The code I think is unrelated but I've taken the liberty to reconvene it as an anagram of West, but this is side story. The gloves, a subject dear to me, are plaster partners of each other, frayed, thumb-worn, fake

at 08:32

Matching Dark Undertones

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Autumn's generous rewards, seven spikes of dark, perfumed blooms from one of the Oncidiums and elegantly soft,s sculpted grey stratacumulous ( you have to imagine these off stage). The perfume is a kind of exacting puzzle, notes of musk, a hint of something nearly jasmine-esque, a note of intoxicating mead, that creates an uncertainty that makes you go

at 18:10

Fall into Grace - The Noritake Take

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Fall into Grace - The Noritake Take Image

Completely leaving behind its past life as an ashtray this elegant Noritake piece has quietly, secretly fielded a fallen gum flower, with its operculum. The flower has gone out in styles, suggesting saffron's great sabor, but framed here by the five compositae, I've gone back quite a few times to check, and admire, this after-arrangement. Completely leaving behind

at 21:05

The Self-Caught Flower

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The magnolia proves itself an old hand at most things, here we see its resolutely tough tepals catching the fall of its own stamens. Starting off their career in a world with no bees, the magnolia may have some handy lessons for us in the sadly bee-less world tha, if we were collectively wise, we would, right now,

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Curiosity Cabinet

As a child I thought there was a jewel box hidden in my parent's house, I imagined there was a cache of pink cut glass rings - the ones with adjustable soft metal sizing - laid out in pink foam in the nailed tight plyboard box in my brothers' walk-in robe.

Years later, I realised the box was really the back of the bathroom cabinet. I got a lot of enjoyment out of those pink glass jewels that weren't there. Imaginery treasures are curiously satisfying.

Here is a central point where someone who might be interetested can see what bits of words, some links to work published in journals and ezines, and images that I have made.

Absent Knowledge

We are talking about knowing certain facts,

and he says, I know all that or used to,

it is only that I can’t remember.

Is this not knowing or forgetting

what you know? Perhaps the head holds

a trace of what was there,

perhaps it is there but can’t find

the way out; maybe it was there but left,

or there was a rumour that it was coming

but never did,

like the promised holiday ,

in Pennant Hills. At eight years old

I would lie in bed at night a hardly contained

precipice of anticipation that time

would take me to Pennant Hills and a big house

with a swimming pool. I can see

the façade of the house, the curve

of suburban street, where that house

I never went to might be - or even was.

Though I know I never went, maybe

somewhere, there is an unborn memory

of being there, and I am thwarted by absent knowledge

from enjoying what I did not do.

Carol Jenkins

From Voices from the Meadow Wollongong Workshop Anthology 2007 ( Five Islands Press)

Bambiraptor

The Going Down Swinging # 25 -special double CD edition has at last unwrappped itself in Sydney, with a lauch at the Last Bastion of Civilisation last Wednseday 25 September. I still don't know what is in this CD it apart from my spoken word poem Bambiraptor as I was incarcarated in an invention called Good Mummydom. I hope every one else had a good time at the launch party.

The fossil Bambiraptor’s importance in the evolutional of dexterity and the dissonant name gave me this rave by Blanche (Street Car Named Desire) - here she makes a play for Bambiraptor believing his tough and powerful persona is lined with tenderness, like Stanley. This poem is one of my bids to get fossils to colonise and take over the myth as the substratum of literature.

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