The showing of my series "Heat is on the North" , which was held at the Queens land Art Council Gallery in Brisbane, had minimal effect. It coincided with the death of a friend , mentor , confidant and often  father image and together created an effect that had me felt unsure as what to do next with my art.

In spite that  the exhibition had attracted   interest from dignitaries like the president of the Queens land Art Council and the ex premier Goss it actually did nothing more but create a pleasant gathering of art lovers.   It even attracted one of my art patrons from Sydney to attend the occasion.   

As for my own experience ; exhibitions  of such nature had  in the past meant stimulations , enough to allow  new ideas to be born.

The death of my friend had changed all that. His wife who lived in Bali  had called me to attend  funeral  arrangements and  I stayed on for a few weeks to allow her to find support with my presence. Also ,  it gave me an opportunity to find out if I wanted to return to my studio now Han is no longer alive.

When I returned to Cairns I felt a  lingering emptiness and  realized that I needed to find some form of  relieve.

This self afflicted  state of emotions  I  was in is  not unfamiliar to  me.  I often allowed myself to sink  into such tender sensitivities  before exhilarating my energies into the start  of something new. Art to  is my  response to many of such emotion. I understand  such a  sensitivity to be a quality I was born with even if in my younger life it had been an obstacle in my relationship to others   and in particular to my father. But in my art this sensitivity had and is still serving me well.

Realizing  my condition   and what it  could develop   into , I  first of all looked  for a  direction  and had found this when I was  invited   to  come to   Miriwinni , a small  sugar cane community south of Cairns.

A friend from way back in Sydney who had moved into  a typical "Queenslander", a timber dwelling built on posts ,   had invited me for a barbeque  and  at the same time inspect the house he was living in.

My first impression of the house  was not quite what I had expected of such a traditional architecture  but what it did  matched with what I was looking for as an antecedent for  a new idea. As such  this  introduction to the old house became the catalyst of the   new beginning I had been searching for.

The old house   and its environment  were in exact opposition to what I was used to. In that context it  made me see the mechanical life style I was leading in Cairns' city  , constraining  of city life  , which  had often  made me look for a way  to  escape.

To mention  a few   differences I saw in my house and the one   in Miriwinni , were its age difference with the old one being  full of character and exiting to explore; whereas my home in the city  was  new and modern and perhaps tended to be a little too pretentious . The other and  most important to me  was  that in Miriwinni there were no direct   neighbours  I could  possibly  disturb with  my busy activities  and neither would  I be disturbed with their presence. This  might not appear to be so important but to me it was.                                                                                       

Where   a  2 meter high fence surrounded  my city  house , part of which  shielding  the view of  dense  forest ,   in  Miriwinni a girdle of growing cane surrounded the property. The timber  structure  with its traditional   high set foundation  so characteristic of  Queenslander houses  presented an   unrestricted view of  waiving cane  for as far as I could possibly see. To the west  I saw a mountain range  that separated the site  from the Pacific ocean and in the east stood the magnificent Bartly Frere , one of the high set mountain ranges we know in North Queensland.

At the front of the house stood a nearly century   old mango tree . Its branches formed  a natural barrier to a row of  old homes situated  on the other side of a rail line, that ran in front of the dwelling. The rail track  looked as if   partitioning  the house from the rest of the small community.  The high   staircase leading  to the entrance was showing  its age and the front  door decorated with  a  filigree of intricate patterns had seen its time. Some of  its glass panels  were  broken; probably   caused by having been smashed in by an  unfortunate lock  out at some stage.  Or could this  be the scar of a break in , I thought. Much later  I  learned that the region was as safe as one  could possibly imagine . Not like the insecure conditions   we know of  in  big cities where fences , grills , locks and the like have become  a must. 

The  interior  of the house showed masses of space which  gave a   feeling  of   being in an empty ballroom where  only a few chairs  would  line the sides.  It added to the  freedom I was looking for  and at the same time gave me  possibilities of   immense proportion. The wooden floor was old and showed here and there effects  where rodents must have made  their  entry into the house. The main floor  was covered by a old style of linoleum  also showing  wear . But that did not concern me much for I intended to cover it with a protective sheeting so as not to damage the property.

Looking back at  all the procedure that came with the house change  reminded me of  a  meeting with  someone new ,  exciting and promising to explore , not unlike  a  love  affair at  first sight. I can remember  occasions  in  my  life where  I had  liked  the  sensation of wanting to exchange   energies of a  physical , mental , but definitely of  an emotional  nature.   So , not to let  this meeting  with my new opportunities go in vain ,   I suggested  to my friend an  exchange of  my house in the city with   his house at Miriwinni.   As it turned out  ,  he  had  wanted to return  to the city  to make commuting to and from  his new job  easier.  We made arrangements and within days we moved.

So there I  was , in my new surroundings  , with only birds and small wild life as  my neighbours.  The other companions I had were a few hens;  the "Andrew Sisters", I was told they were called . These chickens  always seemed to be  so busy scavenging  for food , insects and  'creepy crawlies' ,   that my presence would hardly be noticed.

The air outside the house  felt pure while  inside  there  was  a  cool and constant breeze   passing  freely through the open windows . 

The sun is tropical in Far North Queensland ,  but because of the high set architecture of the building  and the effects of the constant  trade wind , blowing freely around and under the house ,  caused  no  heat discomfort.  Its bright  reflection  on the surrounding landscape at  various parts of the day was  exceptional  beautiful. For a landscape artist these conditions are a source of inspirations . But  to  an expressionist    like myself , I  would  rely on the  impressions   such a spectacle is able to   release. 

For the first few  weeks I did nothing but inhale all that dazzling beauty of which there  was so much.  Especially during  sunrise, seeing   how the rays of the sun sprayed  its light over a wide surface  of waiving cane  ,  touching all tops  in its way. The  nuances of brilliance   that ever kept changing during the course of the day from burnt  oranges to hues of yellows and light greens against  a purple silhouette  of mountain ranges were exceptionally wonderful   By mid day these colours changed  into bleached lilacs and faded  pinks ,  reflecting the harsh effects  of sunlight. Within this specter of colours  I looked for the accent  I needed in my expression.  

As a routine  ,  I did my art in the early hours of the morning as an extension of my daily meditation which  often was as early as 3  o'clock.  By the silence of the morning I could  often hear myself breathing and  at times would made  use of its  rhythmic vibration to  conduct  my brushstrokes.   

The first few  mornings  brought  nothing    interesting about but   the old routine I had wanted to break away from. This   absence of inspirations had  created an   impatience in me which  coupled with  a  feeling of emptiness   had   mounted into a  near  rage. In this state   I  threw my canvas on the floor  grabbed   the first  can of paint near to  hand   and  threw its contents  over the canvas   surface ,  forming a big  blot of blue paint . That  felt good and relieving . The next action was another splash of paint , a smaller one  thrown with less vigour . To complete the gesture , a third splash landed on the canvas and was to create an accent.

 To explain the routine;  as a source of  energies  myself , I was aware of  three centers from which they  manifest. These  three centers are the physical , the emotional and the mental.  It is possible to act without thoughts and emotions and exalt  pure physical  energies. I did this by  grabbing a can of paint near hand and throwing its contents onto the canvas.  For the next action I had  switched  to a feeling by which I had created the second blob of paint . The third splash was  calculated as to form a harmony with the two larger blue spots already on the surface of the canvas.

I had once witnessed   such an "artistic rage". It was in Paris when I had been invited to attend an exhibition of artist doing one of his creation.  Although it started  with the best of attention and  articulate  concentration ,  it ended  with  ,  what I could compare it  with ,  violence and aggression all in  the name of the arts.                                             

The artist threw paint at random  on a large canvas , here and there brushing and hand rubbing in the medium to blend in colours. The exercise resembled much  a trend called "field colouring".   On an other occasion when I was in Bali ,an  artist squeezed whole tubes of paint onto his canvas. The effects  were dazzling , even if much if it  looked that more of the paint was on the artist than it  was on his  canvas. But nevertheless it was a demonstration  I had very much appreciated. 

After I had completed the first stage of my creation , the placing of the three blob of blue paints ,  I had stopped and observed what was done.  I decided to leave it as it was and walked away, mainly to cool off

A  new  morning was being  born and I went  to see what was happening outside.  The three  hens were making a lot of noise   and wanted  to be let out of their night pan . Their thrifty way of showing their release  from their small  confinement reminded me much of my own.  

After an hour  enjoying the awakening of a day in all its glorious  splendour of indescribable  beauty I returned to the scene  that was to become the start of my first expression. 

I was now able to realize the rage that had mounted in me and that showed  itself as a  field of blue blots  on a white surface.  I liked it and decided to built my expression on top of it.

The way to approach my  creation  was by  means of drawing colourful   lines on top of the already  blue blots  rather  then by brushing  in my images . A method  of drawing in  single lines used  to be my  favorite exercise during  my study years. I had enjoyed it because  it meant  little  expertise.       I use to follow the contours of my subject  as they  appeared  in my mind , translating it by a single uninterrupted line not minding its appearance until I had completed the routine. It was important that I used  the right utensils to accomplice this technique . 

"Henley Road" was the  first work  of the series I did in that manner. I liked the result as an alternative to what I had been  used to in my art.  I had on purpose disregarded  academic  merit and concentrated entirely on concept. 

The big tree in front of the house with its dense foliage as a dominated factor was represented by a row of large blue leaves stretching from the base of the painting and moving out on the top indicating  its dominance over the region .I used blue because  the colour to me stood for depth and masculine rule.  Subjective to this  massive foliage  stood the house. The  rusty  orange  reflection of  its  decaying roof stood as a contrast against a  jade blue sky. In front of the house  stood three primitively drawn and colourful  figures  joining the two large elements that comprised the scene.  Next to them I have shown an abundance  of colourful flowers bordered by  yellow cane to make purpose of the setting , while the few hens in the foreground created an homely atmosphere that the house meant to me. The bird on the roof indicated  freedom.

In the door opening stood a giant cat as if barring  entry into the old home. She looked as if  hiding the  secrets of  all  its occupants , from the present to far into  the distant  past.   The completion  you would see below and has become my favorite  peace of the series  and which I would  treasured  for as long as I live.

I had stayed on in the house for nearly a year creating  40 large canvases. To broaden my knowledge of the region I did an extensive research and with the help of the Babinda Library found out much about the  history of the region.  On some of the canvasses I  had showed the life of the cane farmer as he used to worked the land  during the days of the early settlers.  On other expressions I had pictured how nowadays he worked the land by using  modern machinery.  

What I did , got the interest of the director of the Mourillyan Sugar Museum who liked it and  organized an exhibition. It was followed by another showing  this time at the Cairns Regional Gallery.

I  still enjoy my new found style and have created  two series afterwards , one expressing  memories of another interest I had in my life which was the theatre . In my last series ,  I had only recently completed I expressed my concern about the live of young people and young males in particular.

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