Show Me The Treasure

Home Archive for January 2025

at 08:03

Ambiguity Contained - Celadon and Red Glaze Days

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Any visit to the Art Gallery of New South Wales gives one something to ponder, if you’re the pondering kind. Here Liu. Jianhua’s take on celadon and Ox Blood glazes, the Container Series 2009, suggest that they a full of blood, and that are hollow under the meniscus of glaze. Of course the impulse to turn them upside

at 15:47

Between Me and the Sea - Jennifer Blau at Mosman Art Gallery

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Between Me and the Sea - Jennifer Blau at Mosman Art Gallery Image

Jennifer Blau’s thirteen photos are now up in ‘In Profile’, an exhibition space dedicated to local artists in the foyer of Mosman Art Gallery. If, like me, you haven’t as yet paid attention to this small space, now is the time to check it out, as Blau’s subliminal treat is only up until 2 February 2025. Between Me

at 16:23

The Leaning Brick Tower of Mt Melville

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The Leaning Brick Tower of Mt Melville Image

Rakish? You bet. Brick a brick? Emphatically brickyard. This homage to the leaning Tower of Pisa, is one of the secret treasures of Albany WA., eight levels of the not-so-level, eight tiers of columns. All those pristine beaches of white sand and clear aquamarine are one thing, and this is entirely another. Even its shadow is a model

at 07:36

Beach + Abandonment Barbie

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Whatever happened to Beach + Abandonment Barbie that finds her in disarray on the sand, handbag and sunnies suggesting it was a big night out, arm up to shield her eyes from the morning sun’s inquisition, I hope it was fun. You might think, dear Reader that this scene was a set up, and B + A Barbie

at 15:07

Ten Fish Hanging Out at Fishmass

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So, this school of fish missed going up by Christmas but now they have flocked up for what might be called Fishmass. At the moment they are having their sway from on this inside hoistable clothes line in the bathroom but I think they may need to migrate to less humid climes. Their mobile is made with 1.3mm

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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.