Cosmic rain in pain and desperate to shriek out for its freedom. I am writing with the door wide open and only hot, repressed wind punches its way into the room.
I have been rightfully chastised for not updating the blog for a week. Sorry.
I and the Red Room have been packing more hours than a day can take, into the day. At this time the details I wanted to write to uncover each day are of no consequence now, too late. Although, the best poems and often feelings of most intensity follow later, days, years, lives after the event. I want to be clinical in my details of Red Room news and I want to write without constraint because the last week has trapped my senses in a screen of graphics which are necessary for grant applications. I am unable to decide which mood to outfit.
Amanda Muscat, designer of the upcoming exhibition at The Australia Council, has transformed glass and carpet into a Red Room and Shaun Tan extravaganza. Not so much you can’t take in the illustrations, not so little it isn’t worthy the label of retrospective. The opening is next Thursday at 5.30 PM and it is invitation only. The exhibition will be alive for a long and delicious 3 months. If you’re walking out suit creases, then make sure to pass Elizabeth Street.
Pigeons are to be released on the first Sunday in August, so keep that date for feathers only and details about how you can sponsor your own winged wonder will be here shortly. Editor, Andrew Garrick, is pasting and weaving trophies and a pigeon narrative into a video we will fly about the internet, to promote the project.
Our 2008 program is almost complete. Changes are driving me into a rabid state and it is a task to describe the future perfectly when it is by nature, imperfect. Imperfections which oil the mind, keep it mindful of being free.
You will have loved. Will you have loved? You will not have loved.
Now, before poor punctuation infects this entry and type speed leads to spelling vomits, I leave you with a thought I am unable to share on this blog :
