Winter's Afternoon

Today has been one of those very chilly days that we have a handful of during our winter.Not cold compared to Northern Hemisphere winters, but enough for us all to stay indoors as much as possible and wrap up in layers if we have to venture out.

In the Gallery this morning, I never really warmed up. Dressed in leggings, vest, long sleeved tee shirt, pullover, woolen scarf and a goretax jacket, I appeared to have no neck whatsoever and had to constantly raise my chin so I didn't mumble through the scarf.

Back at home, Michael had the tile fire roaring. I gratefully discarded two layers and the scarf, though my feet still resembled ice packs in my shoes. Larissa joined us for a cup of afternoon tea. She was dressed in as many layers on as I'd had, plus a beanie. She looked ready to lead an Antarctic expedition.

Eventually, I decided the only way to properly warm up and stretch out was to go for a walk. Michael's response to an invitation to join me was a succinct "are you mad?' I was disinclined to take the Beagle with me as she is always troublesome, being on a finite leash. Anyway, she'd already excavated herself under the fence for a walk twice, so I figured she'd had enough exercise.

My pullover, jacket and scarf went on again. Pip was very keen, but Sascha was either being deliberately obtuse or was having a senior moment. Michael assisted her out the front door with a quick poke of his foot on her rear end. Mission accomplished.

Once outside, the two dogs were ecstatic to have a gallop. Sascha, all of thirteen years old, with developing cataracts and somewhat wobbly legs, took off like a firecracker. A wide Weimaraner smile spread across her face. Pip was his usual energetic self, darting and weaving and bouncing, as only a Jack Russell can. They were both in their element.

Neither of them spotted the young red kangaroo standing quite still by the river. I removed my camera quietly from my pocket. We had a silent satisfying conversation for around thirty seconds. Then the kangaroo chose to leave, making so little noise the dogs were still totally unaware of another animal in their midst.

We continued onto the river bank. The river was higher than I'd ever seen. Early, regular rain had filled our rivers, salt lakes, creeks and soaks right through the Wheatbelt. The light was soft and muted. The sounds of the evening birds filled the air. We turned and headed for home.

About halfway along the fire break, I spotted Madame Cat waiting for us. She joined us for a stroll, not too close, as she would have hated to give the impression she was voluntarily accompanying two dogs. She did concede to having her photo taken.

My feet now happily warm, I thought I'd entered a furnace when I opened the front door of the House that Rocks. After a bracing walk, the fire announced its heat as I walked in. I rapidly removed layers and returned to normal temperature.

As I write this, my feet are still warm and we are about to climb into our cosy bed. The reward for a bit of exercise. Bliss!

Are you looking at me?

Hmmm...

See you later...

The Avon River

 Reflections

and ripples...

An ancient Weimaraner having a marvellous time.

Pip preparing for blast off...

Where the hell have you been?

Since you're here, I might as well join you for the remainder of this walk!

Dreams

This morning, I had a pre-arranged visit, by a guest named Pete, at the East End Gallery. He was in Beverley for the first time, visiting his sister and her husband. He had stopped by the Gallery previously, when I had just happened to be there collecting money to pay the electricity bill.  I wished I could have been engaged in a more exciting activity, but such is the lives of a struggling artist and curator.

Anyway, Pete and I have just spent a very pleasant hour together in the Gallery. The weather is ferocious, bitterly cold with a cutting wind and scuttling grey clouds. We were both wrapped up like Michelin men, but after we began chatting, all thoughts of frostbite dissipated.

We shared stories, discussed our passion for art, dropped a few names and warmed up with cups of tea. Whilst I was talking about our vision and plans for the East End Gallery, I had a renewed surge of enthusiasm and excitement about what we are trying to achieve here as artist and curator.

Pete reminded me of the gargantuan effort we had made, the glorious result we had achieved and our sustained optimism and energy we kept pouring into the building, our artists and the artworks.

He particularly loved "Child's Play", Michael's see-through metallic screen with found children's toys as the features. He described "Child's Play" as a piece of history, frozen in time, a unique and eternal reminder of the past. In an instant, I could visualise more of Michael's screens, with different found objects as the focus, but with the same clean lines and shapes of the original design. Not bad for a girl with very limited spacial awareness...

Then we discussed funding and our continuing quest for finances. Michael's dream of collaborative sculptures, produced by a group of like-minded people to create  a sculpture park along the Avon River.
Workshops to assist rural men with mental health issues to have a tangible outlet for their emotional healing, whilst working with their hands.

And our ongoing commitment to photograph as many of the old mining centres in the Goldfields, before they disappear, to capture the majesty of these locations and all the ghosts of a bygone era.

I dream of publishing "Love Amongst the Goldfields" our story of perseverance, adventure, comedy,  tragedy and our growing attachment to ourselves and mine to the outback. Then, a "coffee table" book of the Gallery's rise from degradation and disaster to the beautiful building she is today.

So, I am putting it out there to the universe. Pete has given me the name of a benevolent foundation to contact with the possibility of funding for Michael's artistic endeavours.

We are still waiting for the new owners of the House that Rocks to make themselves known to us, so we can move on-site behind the Gallery and create our next home.

We will continue to promote the East End Gallery to our astounded, excited guests-to-be. A Southern Showcase is in full swing until the end of June.

We will be hosting the judging of a young ambassador of the Central Wheatbelt region on 25 June. And we continue our Artists' Group every Thursday for our enthusiastic bunch of like-minded artists.

This is our ambitious quest. We are living and breathing the East End Gallery. Come and share the Gallery with us and see for yourselves. Seize the day.

The metamorphosis of "Child's Play"...

a slightly-worse-for-wear coach...

BANG! A cap gun named "Dixie"...

On yer trike!

 "Child's Play"in-situ...

with "Bicycle Express" And "Figment"...

the centrepiece of "Child's Play"...

Big Brother coach.

The Bionic Fireplace...

how Michael felt at times during the interminable renovation process...

his expression of his own anxiety...

the completed "Black Dog is Back".

"Posy"

now on display for your enjoyment at the East End Gallery.

Introducing Brian Aylward

Yesterday morning, bright and early...we were still asleep..my phone rang and rang and rang. Then Michael's phone rang. Fortunately, we were awake by this time and Michael made a mad sprint to the kitchen to answer. Shortly later, he prised me out of bed. "That was Brian Aylward from Wooroloo. He's coming up to see the Gallery today". Who?

When Brian arrived, I eventually worked out his identity. He is an artist and Facebook friend. The only image of him I'd seen of him was a self-portrait on his page. No wonder I didn't recognise him. He wasn't a painting!

According to his biography, T. Brian Aylward (what does the T stand for, Brian?) was born, educated and lived in the United Kingdom until he was twenty-nine. We'll forgive him for that...After a variety of different professions, he finally settled on being a full-time artist in 1990. He describes Wooroloo as being a "secluded village in the Perth Hills". This phrase immediately reminded me of St Mary Mead or one of the many villages in Midsomer where some poor sap was likely to be murdered!

In spite of the handicap of living in a village where you may suffer a sticky end, Brian's art is varied and eclectic. He works with pastels, oils, acrylic and chalks, charcoal, Chinese brush, pen and wash and mixed media. As a sculptor, he uses materials such as clay, glass, steel and stone.

He is a successful artist with his works in private and corporate collections in Australia and overseas. He has had dozens of solo exhibitions and won many awards and commendations.

And he wandered into the East End Gallery! After an exceedingly pleasant morning, Brian left us as our thirty-sixth artist, with five of his paintings for the Gallery. He also talked Ryan into attending one of his workshops in Wooroloo in a couple of weeks.

I just hope that Miss Marple doesn't attend Brian's workshop as well!

Some random artist named Brian...

"Before the Race"

"Sunshine Harvester"

:York Cottage"

"Dale Gorge"

"From My Study"

Now available for guests to view in the East End Gallery.

• .

Happy WA Day or happy Foundation Day or happy Queen's Birthday (depending on where you live!)

This Monday, we in Western Australia will enjoy a Public Holiday. This means a Long Weekend, which is worshipped by all Australians in the warmer months, but also used as an excuse at this time of year to become very cold and wet, or conversely, tucked up in bed for three days.

Until 2012, WA Day was known as Foundation Day. Apparently, this was because WA had been founded on 1 June 1829. Except it wasn't. Albany, on the south coast, with a magnificent deep water harbour, was founded on 26 December 1826, a full two and a bit years before Captain Stirling and his party were anywhere near the Swan River.

And anyway, another bloke named Captain Fremantle had sailed up the Swan River for a spot of exploring between 2 and 4 May 1829. Which is how Fremantle was given its name. Our hero Captain Stirling arrived on 31 May 1829. And they didn't found anything on 1 June as they were struggling to save a ship and plonked all the women and children either on another ship (if their husbands were officers) or on Carnac Island. Five days later, everybody was moved to Garden Island and the first settlement was established there. Then on 17 June, still on Garden Island, Captain Stirling read a proclamation to the assembled colonists.

So, 17 June could have been Foundation Day. Well, there was still the problem of a more permanent settlement, so on 12 August, the King's birthday, Perth was founded. Now that could have also been the date for Foundation Day.

Guildford, now a suburb of Perth and York, in the Avon Valley, were both established by the end of 1830. Albany, which probably should have been the capital, became an extremely important landing point being in the vicinity of the splendid King George Sound.

So Foundation Day became WA Day on 2012, on 1 June. Both sides of government  were in consensus. The indigenous population, who I suspect had their wishes ignored, probably don't give a toss about the name that politicians chose. For them, that was the beginning of forced colonisation.

Hang on a minute. If WA Day falls on 1 June, we should have celebrated it two days ago, on Wednesday. That would have been no good then, as there would have been no long weekend. And although my calendar makes mention of the holiday on Monday, there is no mention whatsoever that WA Day was on Wednesday 1 June.

I am highly amused by all these shenanigans. The rest of the country celebrate the Queen's Birthday holiday on Monday 13 June. Which doesn't fall on 13 June. The Queen turned 90 0n 21 April, quite a while ago. But the English don't actually have a public holiday for her birthday. Celebrations tend to be held on a Saturday in June, when the fickle English weather tends to be more reliable for outdoor activities.

As for us, public holidays make absolutely no difference. The East End Gallery will be open on WA Day/Foundation Day as well as the Queen's Birthday holiday, even though we live in WA. So wherever you live in this great Southern Land, have a great long weekend this week or next week. Just don't pretend it has any real relevance to history!

Captain Stirling and his merry band, tryng to establish WA Day!

It's a holiday, for some of us...

Meanwhile, Albany, which has a far better harbour, should have been the capital.

Did anybody ask the first settlers if they preferred Foundation Day or WA Day?!

The Queen, whose birthday isn't in June...

how we wish this weekend's weather was...

how it's actually going to be...

but hey, it's a public holiday. Enjoy!

The Boom has been Lowered

After all the excitement of our Artists' Group, there was a slightly more sobering activity yesterday afternoon. We sped off to York just before half past one to hear the report of Michael's abdominal CT and my blood test.

Middle age and beyond are not for the faint-hearted. I have discovered that at, almost fifty-five, my body is letting me down in a variety of ways. I have morning medication and evening medication. Parts of me hurt from time to time, particularly on cold mornings. Periodically, trips to doctors, physios, dentists and hospitals disturb the peace of my life.

I am not as quick or agile or fit as I used to be. And weight is an ongoing issue. I know that round is indeed a shape; unfortunately, being short adds to the illusion that I am rapidly becoming the size of a small barn.

Michael isn't amused either by the galloping pace of aging. He refers to his pile of morning pills as "second course" and is delighted to have finally finished his current crop of IV antibiotic infusions. Now we just have to keep him out of hospital for the rest of winter...

So, we met with Doctor Susie, our fabulous GP, for the News. The Good News was that Michael's liver, although fatty, shows no signs of cirrhosis or other nasties. The Bad News is that his liver resembles a Wagyu steak, one of those delicious cuts of cut marbled with fat. And the enzymes that break down vino are through the roof. Oh and that he has a build-up of plaque in the arteries to his legs, causing narrowing of these blood vessels. Apparently, this may explain the odd marathon he seems to run, whilst asleep, in bed every night.

So, the next step is to book an appointment with a  vascular surgeon. Oh goody.

He is off the booze for the duration, which he is trying not to think about much. The Good News is that all his sweats have stopped and he is feeling a good deal better. The Bad News is that he is eating everything that isn't nailed down. And that giving up smoking, completely, has become all that more difficult.

He is stuck on around two cigarettes a day. He knows he has to give up, but he is just finding the Final Push too hard. We will just keep persevering.

My blood test was not as Bad as feared, but my liver is indeed grumbling. I really need a break from vino too, ideally for six to twelve months. Sigh...the boom has been lowered.

Neither of us has had a drink for a week and a half now. We are coping pretty well, we think, but we do miss our evening glasses of vino. So, in typical Beverley Hillbilly fashion, we have decided to cheat. Just a little.

My birthday is in six weeks. I will break the drought for that day. And we have decided to let the vino flow on Michael's birthday in September. And some port is essential on our trip to the Goldfields. Then we will return to clean and sober living until Christmas. After that, who knows?

In the meantime, we are trundling along quite well. We have so many other passions - the Gallery, our art, our town, our friends and family, our trips and our stories. So we intend to knuckle down and behave ourselves for a while.

I have definitely come to the conclusion that life is far preferable to the alternative!

Our fearless Doctor Susie. about to lower the boom.

My first reaction...

closely followed by my second reaction...

except this will be good for us...

and might even encourage us to take up exercise!

And, the Lord be praised; there is still CHEESE...

plus looking forward to our Goldfields trip

our idea of paradise

and there will be port around the campfire!

On Any Given Thursday...

we have been hosting our Artists' Group in the East End Gallery. This is a self-led, peer-supporting enterprise, allowing the artists to work at their own pace, on their own work, whilst gaining encouragement and ideas from the others present. A couple of our group have specifically expressed that they have felt intimidated attending a traditional workshop or class. Hence, the Artists' Group at the Gallery.

Yesterday we had an absolute blast during our group. Len Zuks, Michael's mentor and friend of thirty years, had specifically requested a chance to come to the Artists' Group and see us and the Gallery. We were thrilled that Len would take time out of his busy schedule to visit us and the Gallery.

Len arrived at our house bright and early. We woke ourselves up with morning tea and coffee, feeling somewhat embarrassed that we had still been in bed when he drove up the House that Rocks. A spot of breakfast and a hot drink and we were raring to go.

Len and Michael set off first. By ten o'clock, he was mixing his palette on the table to begin working. Half an hour later, he was busy with a painting of the Pingelly pub, which he had already started, based on a fifteen -year -old photograph.

The developing picture is not a small study at one hundred and twenty centimetres square. Len explained that he uses water-based acrylic paints now to appease his natural impatience, as oil was taking too long to dry. Paint that is quick-drying and flexible makes transport of his works easier by rolling the canvases inside tubes to carry to his many international events.

Lyn, one of our regulars was delighted to learn from Len. She said that the difference was that Len was demonstrating, not teaching. He enthusiastically encouraged her to just have a go, be free with colour and above all, break the rules. By the time he left, Lyn was painting with her fingers. And she was over the moon with her effort.

So far, in 2016, he has exhibited and worked at the Metropolitan Art Museum in Tokyo and the one-hundred-and-fiftieth Celebration of the American University of Beirut, which was held in the United Arab Emirates.October will see Len with two painting at the G20 Summit in Guangzhou then off to Beirut for the University's ceremony on 25 November.

Len declared that painting in our Gallery in Beverley with new and old friends was as exciting as anywhere he'd been in the world. He felt at home and home is where the heart is. Really complimentary words by a Boddington Boy.

Naturally, there was still one more unexpected treat for the morning. Marlon, an old friend of Len's from Boddington, was in town and wandered into the Gallery. He stayed and chatted for quite some time, as he and Len caught up on their shared memories.

Whenever we have a completely surprising occasion like this, I shake my head in wonder. There is something about the East End Gallery that draws people inside. I believe our Gallery is special. Maybe because we had to fight to save the building, there is a glow, a love, a joy about the Gallery. We often are told about the welcoming atmosphere from our guests and this is so rewarding for us.

I guess this is one of the reasons we get up every morning.

So, come up and see us this long weekend and experience the East End Gallery.

Our artist in residence for the day, Len Zuks, with Michael and Shane Moad, another of our fabulous artists

and with old friend, Marlon, who just happened to be passing

"are you talking to me..."

Len just such works at a rapid pace

with Lyn Isaacs

another work in progress

and more progress

and more...

the Pingelly pub of old...

Lyn having a wonderul play with colour...

but wait there's more!

tha aftermath...

"Have fun, be free with colour and break all the rules!" Len with his paintings "Pilbara Poetry" and "Antipodean Reward" on the wall behind him in the East End Gallery.