Perhaps we are all metaphors of ourselves. Perhaps we start life like sketches, which slowly get filled with with daubs and washes of colour – huge blobs of primary colours, two-dimensional and flat. And then as we progress life anoints us with some shadow and nuance, so we don’t rust so much as weather; we […]Read more "A Work in Progress"
From Singapore to Jakarta, it is about 1hour 40minutes. I spent the flight crammed into a tiny little AirAsia seat. As I flipped through the in-flight magazines boredly, the spectacular Bromo Massif caught my eye. I’d been here in 2013, and recognised the iconic scene: Gunung Batok squatting primly in the foreground, Bromo simmering lazily […]Read more "Old Lines and New Voyages: Thoughts en route to Jakarta"
Seeing the fallen columns of Zeus’ Temple today, I couldn’t help but contemplate the hubris of “eternity”. All gods must die: and one day, if they are un/lucky, they return to be sold as trinkets to Chinese tourists. Millenia ago Horus, Demeter, Minerva were once loved, feared and venerated. Today we read about them not […]Read more "The Hubris of “Eternity”, and the fate of Old Gods"
Perhaps we are all metaphors of ourselves. Perhaps we start life like sketches, which slowly get filled with with daubs and washes of colour – huge blobs of primary colours, two-dimensional and flat. And then as we progress life anoints us with some shadow and nuance, so we don’t rust so much as weather; we […]Read more "Work in Progress"
There’s something about this old sketch I did -what, 6, 7 years ago? – that moves me immensely. I think it’s the light, falling in uncertainly on these unlikely rocks, or the brave reflections merging into the blueness. But also an indescribable sense of reassurance and peace. I remember distantly finishing this little thumbnail sketchpaint […]Read more "Learning the Light"
The Godzilla of my childhood was a strange animal. On one hand, someone had given me a muscular, dark green creature along with the three-headed, silver King Ghidorah. They featured in noisy, afternoon battles on the cold floor of my childhood flat, while I was supposed to be sleeping (complete with lots of saliva-making sound […]Read more "The Godzillas of my Childhood"
You sprinkle a cloud of water, and then you spray the sun through that airborne prism. Suddenly you get a technicolour serpent, arcing through the evening sky. Then you blend it with the mood of your twilight, and you craft and weave it into a memory that will give your weary heart some strength. Who […]Read more "Ouroboros"