Lately I've been working on some out-of-the-ordinary creations: gluing thousands of beads to skulls, filling mini-bar bottles with flowers and resin, sticking little glittery jewels on the inside of abalone shells... Creations that might be an attempt to communicate magic; to share the way some things resonate and hum; to make literal the special significance that embellishes every day objects when seen through my eyes. 

So, with my brain three-quarters consumed with thoughts about the realities of magic, here's what's left: some colourful pages in my sketchbooks, and some half-hatched ideas for the upcoming Curvy exhibition in Sydney later this week.  It's going to be pretty awesome, so if you're in Sydney, come along to aMBUSH Gallery on Thursday night!

I'm also part of the Volcom School of Cool panel and workshops on Friday – which is day one of the Curvy Conference – where a whole bunch of talented women will talk about their work and careers. After the panel discussion, I'll be painting up a denim jacket while Gemma O'Brien runs a short typography workshop. So much fun stuff happening this week!

We left home in the dark, driving south down the peninsula with only a rough idea of where we might go. The world turned dusky and grey around us while we drove, the day starting to seep in along tree tops and horizon edges. We stopped in an empty car park, then set off down a track, down some stairs. More colours steadily leeched in with the daylight.

And just as we headed around into a little cove, the sun broke over the distant headlands, throwing all it's flashy, fluorescent colours up onto the low clouds. Celebratory colours because it wasn't raining, because we weren't it the city, weren't at work, stuck in traffic or on commuter trains full of sad suits. Celebratory colours because we were somewhere alone, quiet, empty. Not sharing space with strangers. Or with concrete and plastic and mechanical sounds.

Just us and the big ocean. 

Just us and a little window on the quiet wild world. 

I'm trying to wrap my little brain around a whole bunch of exciting things that are on the horizon... events and travel and making things and moving around; there's lots to look forward to. So, while I'm in this little pre-fun-storm lull, I'm trying to crank out as much preparation as possible for what's to come... I'm going to be super primed and ready for whatever weirdness comes along next. At least, that's what I like to tell myself. 

A little 70s-inspired matte-finish enamel pin, for those who know the world is full of wonder, and seek to see it all. As Tom Robbins said: well, some people do hide and others seek. 

Available here.

The full wisdom from Robbins (Still Life with Woodpecker): 
“How can one person be more real than any other? Well, some people do hide and others seek. Maybe those who are in hiding - escaping encounters, avoiding surprises, protecting their property, ignoring their fantasies, restricting their feelings, sitting out the pan pipe hootchy-kootch of experience - maybe those people, people who won't talk to rednecks, or if they're rednecks won't talk to intellectuals, people who're afraid to get their shoes muddy or their noses wet, afraid to eat what they crave, afraid to drink Mexican water, afraid to bet a long shot to win, afraid to hitchhike, jaywalk, honky-tonk, cogitate, osculate, levitate, rock it, bop it, sock it, or bark at the moon, maybe such people are simply inauthentic, and maybe the jacklet humanist who says differently is due to have his tongue fried on the hot slabs of Liar's Hell. Some folks hide, and some folks seek, and seeking, when it's mindless, neurotic, desperate, or pusillanimous can be a form of hiding. But there are folks who want to know and aren't afraid to look and won't turn tail should they find it - and if they never do, they'll have a good time anyway because nothing, neither the terrible truth nor the absence of it, is going to cheat them out of one honest breath of Earth's sweet gas.”