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Published: February 11th 2013
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Australia Day Freemantle fireworks IN SEARCH OF SANITY.
It is never a good idea for an artist to spend too much time at his own exhibition less it turns out to be his execution, while the general opinion may be glowingly positive he will remember above all that snide little cutting criticism that glinted on the blade of the axe just before it fell. If there is no audience then there is no show and so rather than blame myself for not realizing that the location was unsuitable, the publicity was insufficient or the timing was wrong I prefer to think that I have not just had an exhibition at the East Victoria Park Art Centre in Perth WA but that I now have an exciting body of work, framed and ready for sale. The firework display that followed the opening on Australia Day was in itself enough to have made the trip up to Perth worth while but chose to watch an equally fine show at Freemantle with fellow artists and freinds.
My first run for sanity started rather late in the day and took me just north of Perth coast line to the “The Spot” a few
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John and Elvis at Grey miles south of Two Rocks. The Australians have the ability to name places in such an obvious and yet appropriate way. In Breton, Cornish, Welsh or Gaelic the name “Poldu” would signify black pond but it may not in reality be the same pond, one might be more of a dark hollow another a far more sinister dark body of water. The Spot was so obviously the spot; to fish, walk the dog, drink a few beers or simply watch the setting sun. Two Rocks was even more obvious with two massive lime stone rocks left abandoned whale-like out on the township beach marking an ancient long since forgotten coastline. Twelve years ago I made the mad 3 hour drive north with two psychiatrist friends along the Brand Highway to see the natural limestone formation of The Pinnacles at sunset, but as we turned west toward Cervantes with 50k to go it became obvious we would miss that evening glow and so we drove around the mysterious lumps by the headlights of the car. This time I was in plenty of time, on the winding approach there were plenty of no stopping signs followed by one that indicated the entry
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Sketch from my diary at Grey fee, my heart sank all this way for nothing as ever since Peter De Savory bought Lands End and charged for parking I vowed never to pay to see a natural formation. Arriving at the tole booth I could see two other building had been built no doubt to enhance the tourist experience beyond what they had already read in the guide book, there would be no trace of discovery remaining, just another theme park. On leaving I noticed that the beautiful new road continued south to Lancelin, which now made the fishing shack settlements of Grey and Wedge easily accessible. So having stopped the night at Hangover Beach where a massive new car park area, toilet block and barbeque spots allowed no camping I pressed on south.
With the summer holidays over Grey was desserted apart from three sun soaked retainers who seemed as beaten by life as their rusting shacks. There is a wonderful rational simplicity in their construction that speaks of their lifestyle in total contrast to the million dollar nearly sea view mansions in Perth that scream look at me I loaded. Both these shack settlements are under threat and it is unlikely
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The madness of money that their leases will be renewed for much longer as the relentless commercial coastal development pushes north via the new Ocean Drive road.
Two days back in Perth and I ready to head out south this time to Kwinnana Beach where the facilities are new and well maintained. The bin man informs me that Kwinnana hoons are a very particular breed and that night I’m woken by a stream of foul-mouthed language, mostly from screaming young women known locally as Sheila although I’m told today that is more commonly used for dogs. The flashing headlights and loud music meant there would be no sleep here and so I calmly climbed down from my rooftop bed and started the Landrover. The two leaning on the bonnet hadn’t even noticed me and jumped aside as I found first gear and a quieter spot. Having spent a good part of the following day visiting good friends in Rockingham and idling away the afternoon on a walk around Peron Point I returned for a second night at Kwinnana. Parking this time at the far end away from the noise and toilet attraction I got talking to a fellow wanderer from france. He had come over to see his brother in Freemantle and informed me that I had chosen an infamous gay pickup spot as well as drug dealing area. I wondered just what my second night would bring as a brilliant sunset dipped down over Gardener Island and all seemed right with the world. I make it a point to talk to everyone I meet and over the past two days the conversation has been of the fears young fathers have for their children in the face of an increasingly technological age and the problems that has already brought. It would seem that here in the sun-soaked paradise of WA where people are so wealthy in comparison to our new found European poverty that even those who choose to live in tin shacks and with so little are threatened by mans relentless search for wealth in the mistaken belief that will bring happiness.
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