Thursday, September 8, 2011

Oink. Grunt. Oink.

halo (Greekἅλως; also known as a nimbusaureoleglory, or gloriole) is a ring of light that surrounds a person in art.

I drew this image about two years ago, when I lived in a rented farmhouse surrounded by cows grazing in wide paddocks. Living rurally had it's challenges but I was delighted to regularly find myself surrounded by Holy holy vistas. (Holy with a capital "H"because I believe that Holiness exists, and holy with a lower case "h" because I think even cows and normal folk deserve halos.)

Anyway, I'm 'in town' now, renting a house in the big regional centre nearby, whilst we build our new home, amongst the cows, 20 minutes away. We own a wonderful little acre packed full of glory. Some days, even the slugs shimmer.
A relative of mine married recently and wanted an image to project on a screen for the ceremony. I sent them a selection of works to choose from and they wanted the image above, but with the cows converted to trees. Pictured below is what I came up with.

Interestingly, with the weather warming up, and our building permit granted, all I want to do is garden at our little block and read books on strawbale building. In terms of garden-design, the block is a clean slate. To an artist, who also happens to be a keen gardener, that's ...that's...umph...well, lets just say I could OINK. It's like an empty page without any of the terror. And the possibilities of all that space seem like those tiny buds that are just unravelling on the vines about now. Coiled and ready to surge. 
So, I'm barely working. I'm only doing jobs that fall in my lap and promise money. (Cos money=garden and building supplies, der.) I've got leads to follow, leads I should follow, but I keep waking up with an urge to plant things and move big rocks about. So, I'm just going with it, grunting as I move the rocks. Oinking as I plant things.
It's noisy, but creative and productive work.


  1. I really must have you around here for some cuttings. The garden is JUMPING!

  2. I am dead-set envious of your rural building house about to have a garden future. That is the stuff of dreams, I tell you; dreams are made in those wishes. Good luck!

  3. Cows with aureoles, exquisite. Annie Dillard in Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, talks about seeing a tree ablaze - not with fire, but with light. I'm afraid I'm not very advanced in seeing and can barely grasp the things I do see. More practice is required!

  4. Thanks for the lovely comments!


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