© Stephen Eastaugh, 2019. All Rights Reserved.
Things in the studio are streaming along in a sweaty erratic manner with undercurrents of sparkle and zest. I work on a number of different mediums that are all very far from resolved as the brain seems to be somewhat discombobulated here in this extremely hot studio. In fact I find working on five separate strains of work a little bit troppo (temporary insanity due to tropical electrical storms, high temperatures, humidity and large consumption of mangos).
“Where am I heading with this?” I ask myself daily. My reply is often in a far too colourful language for this blog. Works on paper are sewn on, scrunched up and then torn, print making ideas are drawn and flogged into submission, mixed media works are splattered then scumbled and smelly oil paint in squeezed into positions that oscillate between perfect clumps of gaudy mud and what looks like dead goo bile. Nevertheless this is what happens in most studios. Experimentation, research, production and finished entities all jostle for attention. Focussed long term chaos is indeed not an adventure for the timid.
While this battle rages on in the studio/sauna the short documentary filmed at sea by Malcolm Mckinnon has been completed. I once again thank the Australia Council for the Arts for their help to realise our UNANCHORED WORLD project. A short show reel has been uploaded to this website and Vimeo.
To watch the preview please go to https://vimeo.com/305399310
I also wish to thank Malcolm for his considerate and professional manner, his excellent film making skills and his company on the voyage. Cheers also to the maritime soundtracking musicians Marc Constandse and Dan Tuffy! I owe you guys a bottle of Oude Genever or perhaps my personal favourite Schelvispekel.
It seems like 2018 is rapidly winding up while preparations for 2019 are already underway in my diary and in my mind. Next year will see me exhibiting in Melbourne, zooming around on trams, catching a few planes, sitting on the edge of a remote mossy cliff pondering the chilly North Atlantic Ocean, eating my favourite pickled herrings, presenting talks to artists much younger than myself, sucking in some hot high-octane, hi-energy L.A smog in a studio in Santa Monica, navigating over the Sierra Mountains and finally engaging in a large chunk of Broome time. Carolina and I may even go to the beach at some stage but only if no peckish crocodiles are spotted paddling about.