Saturday, June 24, 2017



                                                                   THE VIEW
                                                    Landscape Photographs at
                                               Margot: House: Gallery from July 1st
                                             127 High Street, Amersham, Bucks HP7 0DY

Saturday, May 13, 2017

Peter and the Chinook

Painting from 1977 depicting Peter in our vegetable garden in Yandina, Qld
Now hanging in the Fryer Library Reading Room, UQ, Brisbane

Wednesday, May 11, 2016

Camino de Santiago



Along the camino, after walking through Pamplona and up the mountain range you look out across the route that you will be walking, small pueblos dotting the landscape into the distance, where you will be in a few days time.

Sunday, April 10, 2016

Interior Landscape

Pathways across an Interior Landscape                                                                                                    
 at Margot:House:Gallery








Kalpa

In ancient Indian cosmology a kalpa is an extremely long period of time. According to The Treatise on the Great perfection of Wisdom, a kalpa is longer than the time required to wear away a cube of rock forty ri (one ri being about 450 meters) on each side, by brushing it with a piece of cloth once every hundred years.
SGI Dictionary of Buddhism

Saturday, October 24, 2015

Allen's art journal issue 4

Read a piece by me about works painted in Sydney in the 80's 

Sunday, April 26, 2015

Lizzie by the Never Never

Dear Lizzie was a Queensland blue heeler with a docked tail that I picked out of a litter of dogs bred on a farm on the edge of Bellingen. She was the runt of the litter but so bright and curious, she squirmed and tussled under my raincoat as we walked back home across the paddocks, smuggled into my life. The deal was that she had to live outside, in a basket with an alarm clock to start with, to simulate her mothers' heartbeat.
She used to go into town with me, riding up on the bench seat, not out on the ute tray like blue heelers are supposed to. I thought once that she'd better have a lead for town, which she absolutely refused to allow, so I trusted that she would follow me everywhere, and she did.
When I later lived in the house alone she saved my lonely ness, I don't think I actually talked to her out loud, but she brought good cheer to my sadness and the remembrance of loyalty, a dogs life.
Blue heelers really need a job, they're working dogs, and she was fairly big on chasing cars, or any wildlife that she could spy out. In the back paddock mobs of feral cows used to jump the fences to eat my delicious grass, they had really annoying alpine bells on so I always knew when they were there. Her biggest usefulness came when I could stand on the river platform and yell 'see them off Lizzie'. She'd leap up from her slumbers, swim over the river, round up and chase the cows down the huge paddock until they jumped back over the fence, then return proud and panting for her supper.
We used to swim in the river on hot afternoons, I'd roar over to the bank in top gear on the tractor, she'd jump in first, belly flop, to scare the eels away, then we'd laze away in the cool water, overjoyed at our luck.
Later, when I'd left the house, gone to pursue something or other, Lizzie went to live with the neighbours, people who were out at work all day. At that time a world famous pianist had just moved into a little house up the road, he talked to himself all day, even when he was playing the piano, but his big plus was that he was there, all day. I believe Lizzie lost no time in moving into this glorious situation of company and chat and peaceful artistic endeavour. Years later when I was living in Seville a letter arrived from the pianists' wife saying what a wonderful dog she was, how well brought up, nothing else, just that.
She was hit by a car she was chasing and didn't live a great long life, but I think she was a contented dog beside the Never Never with me, and later the pianist.