The lovely boys, from a long time ago

The lovely boys, on my lounge wall.

I made this photograph in 1991.  It hung in my mother’s house for a coupla decades.  I’ve just hung it in my lounge. 

I love this photograph. 

I called it The Lovely Boys because they were my flatmate’s sons best friends, and they were wild, and lovely.

This photograph, it reminds me where I started from. 

I was 21 and heavily influenced by Richard Avedon and Diane Arbus. 

My favourite thing about it - apart from the dirty beauty of the boys - is the spit on the lip of the boy on the right. As a portrait photographer for over two decades, I  was always looking for someone’s beauty, but as well I was looking for that extra thing within an image that couldn’t be constructed.  Like the spit on the lip of the boy. 

I’ve begun to miss people’s faces and what I saw there. 

Maybe it’s because for the first time in about thirty years, I’m living on my own.  Maybe it’s the deep connection I generally formed with my portrait subjects that I miss. 

It is such an honour, when someone trusts you enough to open up in front of you.  Let’s you see inside.

The lovely boys, closeup of print. 2018

See ya later

It's beautiful here at the edge, 2018 [original] with my workroom in the background.

And so, the original “it’s beautiful here at the edge” has sold. It’s off to Nelson on Monday.

It’s new owner, B, has children and so I worked with my framer to come up with a solution to make it kid-proof and now it has a double frame and kick-ass museum glass. God it looks good.

I told B that if she hadn’t already bought it, I may have kept it for myself… you can see every imperfect mark through the high quality glass and I love it.

Anyways, I’ve spent this arvo saying goodbye to it before I packaged it… I did weird things like take photos of it with me and in various positions. Yep, I am quite fcking odd…

Me and my artwork...

Then I packaged it... including hand-sewing corners onto it to protect the frame… Got all Rapunzel and pricked my finger and while I was sewing thought just how very lucky I am to be living this artist’s life. I actually get to spend time hand-sewing a corner in my favourite red-thread :-).

Check out the blood...

The last photo in this sequence is the end result of the the packaging… and it hasn’t even got the box on it yet! Safe to say this artwork is wrapped fairly well…

I’m going to miss having this artwork around but I’m also so pleased it’s found such good home. Thanks B, for deciding it was right for your family. And you might want to allow yourself a fair bit of time for the unwrapping. LOL.

A damn fine morning

http://www.fleurwickes.co.nz/studio-prints-2011-2017/its-beautiful-here-at-the-edge-2017

Been feeling sick as a dog for two days. Bad headache, shivery then hot.  You know how a bad cold goes. 

Dragged myself out of bed this morning and into my workroom.  I was rewarded by seeing the most beautiful light hitting this artwork. 

Not only that, two lovely women came to pick up the print they’d bought of this artwork.  They’d bought one for their neighbour, too.  J and S brought their neighbour to my place and she had no idea why she was here until I showed her this artwork hanging on the wall and said, this is the gift they’ve bought you.  L was overwhelmed and I got tears in my eyes. 

It was so lovely to witness the friendship between the three women. 

There is NOTHING like the friendship between women.  The strength and comfort and understanding and love and safety within it makes the world feel like such damn fine place. 

Amazingly enough, buoyed by the lovely interaction this morning, I hardly feel sick at all now… although I may be crawling back to bed this afternoon, lol.  

You me the sea

you me the sea tidal, 2017

I'm posting this image for my dear friend, M, who is having a tough time, and has been having a tough time for years now.  I almost want to laugh when I think of the pressure she's under in her life.  Because otherwise I'll cry.  

M, her heart is so big.  Being in her company you feel her kindness and generosity wrap right round you.  She is also fiercely creative, with something strong and important to say.  This woman she knows how to love, she knows how to be there for those she loves, no matter the cost to her self.  She ain't rich.  She ain't famous. But damn, she is fine.

Ever since I've known M, she's been the same: periodically gone to the same despairing places right down deep, but jesus come out of it with such fierce determination. 

She has achieved so much in her life so far, but most of the time she can't see it because she's lost in the up-down-around of her overwhelming feelings .  She and I we're so similar in that way:  both more than half the time at the mercy of our big-wave emotions.  

What I want to remind you with this artwork, M, is to remember the sea.  That big big water. She has waves so big even ships are sunk.  Some days she's calm and blue enough that the mothers let their toddlers in.

Her endless change, her wild variation, that is her constant.  That is her strength.

Tide in, tide out. No matter the weather.

You, my friend, have ridiculously heavy burdens.  But you are like her, so big and elemental that you can bear them all.  

As long as you embrace who you are.

As long as you accept your life ain't ever gonna be no rosegarden.  Flowers don't grow in a wild ocean.

I could, as you well know, M, be talking about myself.

Let's let go those dreams of a life full of pretty roses, let's leave that to someone else.

Let's be who we are.  Grey and fierce-as-fck, calm and blue.  So strong we can carve the land up if we choose.

You. Me. The sea. 

Tidal.

Love you, mate.

Counterpoint

It's beautiful here at the edge, on the workroom wall, 14 December 2017

I've had a tough week, one way or another.  Today, in counterpoint, I got a big print made of this, hung it on my workroom wall. 

The words were written during a happier time.  It makes me feel good to remember happier times.

“it’s beautiful here
in this small room
in this small town
in this small country
at the edge
of the world”

FInding brightness on dark days is so good for my spirit.

[BTW & FYI: Studio prints of this artwork will be available at the Space Xmas Night Market on Saturday.  If you're in Whanganui, rock on up.  If you're not gonna be in my hood, hit me up and I'll sell you one URL, and send it to you wherever you are. ]

These red threads they tie us so beautifully

A note I wrote about red thread, 11 December 2017

I sent an artwork off to Wellington today.   As usual, I found it hard to let it go.  Wrote this note to go with it. 

Such a beautiful dream

Nadine's photograph of remember love, 2017

I dreamt last night that I called to him, and he came to me.

In the dark, with words I couldn't quite catch.

I woke up feeling open and tender.  It was so nice to feel him with me, even if it was in a dream.

It's good to remember desire.  That particular kind of longing, warm and hot right down deep.

I feel expanded today.

This photograph suits my mood.  A woman, N, bought a studioprint of remember love, 2010 from me a little while ago, framed it with this floral background.  When she sent me this shot, she apologised for its dodgy nature.  But I love how it's all shaky and out of of focus.  Too much in our world is way too sharp these days.  A little bit of gentle soft focus never hurt anyone.  Lol.