They’re not mozzies…

We travelled east across the bay and landed on the side that is sheltered from the northerly winds. The sea was flat but not glassy, and it didn’t take long for us to reach Horseshoe Bay where we stretched out on the beach. We flopped in the shallow water and floated on our backs and walked on our knees in the sand. The tide was on the way out and we had to move the jet ski every few minutes to keep it in water. White pippis were abundant and we collected what we could, keeping them in the footwell of the ski where the water gathers. The tide was against us and we left at high speed towards the bigger island to our east. The sea was greener there and deep where the ferry docks. Today, we’re covered in sandfly bites.

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Pippis a la Peel...

 These pippis were collected on Peel Island and cooked on our barbecue with chilli and salt and pepper and some butter and they were fine.

Make sure they all open. 

Make sure they all open. 

The eyes...

...follow one around the room. The effect is not that difficult to achieve and is one of the first things I was taught at art college along with where the student union was and to never expect to see stuff returned when loaned.

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Ink on newsprint with silver pins. 

Ink on newsprint with silver pins. 

Long, wide verandah...

The verandah I’ve been working on is long and wide. I reckon it’s a 7-barbecue verandah (evenly spaced). I have to allow for the table and lots of plants in pots. Maybe six barbecues. Not the enormous barbecues, the medium ones. A beautiful gum tree is Kardashian Orange in the afternoon light and I’ve seen a bright green tree snake in the branches before. At six o’clock mosquitoes use the verandah and we go inside.

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Low on ink and anti-venom...

On the verandah it looks like rain but I doubt it. I’ve run out of ink and I wanted to do some more trees and maybe a bit more of the verandah. I’m prepared because I have an oil pencil or two with me. Someone told me not to stray too far from the house in flip flops because of the snakes. 

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A few of my favourite things can now be yours...

At the local tip, I was given insight into the hidden sophistication of the community in which I’m living.  Fine paintings and opera records littered the site. Actually, someone has decided that these things belong in the tip, delivered them and chucked them into a metal skip. But then, an employee of the council has chosen them to be rescued and has salvaged them by placing them on a table beneath a sign saying ‘treasure’. That’s a powerful position to hold.

I’d like to think that stuff I considered worthless was reclassified by someone behind my back and placed on the treasure table, to be reinstated into our cluttered society.

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