In grey winter days – what art is there unless you seek it out? It is times of “art is where you find it” but sometimes you need to dig deep. A friend describes hanging his surfboard on the wall as art, I find favourite paintings on book covers ( including Agnes Wood’s “The Committee”) and beauty in nappies flapping on the line. Other friends use the weather to stay inside and craft and make art industriously. The children make play dough art which I then have to dig out of the carpet….
In the big world, grumbling continues about the NZ Venice Biennale presence and CNZ, and the Montana books which all seems so distant while I struggle to write or finish anything I start to read (the library fines are building up). So this is writers block huh…?
Winter maybe is a time for quiet contemplation, but I can do without the existential angst!. So something to contemplate.