Air Traffic Control

First of all let me shed some light on my defunct state of mind in regards to travel; I don’t mean to lead one to believe that there’s anything wrong with the way in which I mentally address changes in location, but merely give a brief insight into my train of thought, or rather lack thereof in this case. I have a tendency not to perceive change until well after it has occurred; this relates directly to the manner in which I respond to travel as it fits within the realm of change, at least geographically if not also culturally. This being said, I am conscious of impending change and fully present in the moment in which said change commences.

The defunct nature to which I have previously made reference comes into play through my mental perception of change. Though I am aware of the transition, no emotions are directly tied to the alteration in my physical or situational alteration. What herein follows is a disjointed reality in which the experiences that I participate in occur in an entirely different environment to what I have come accustomed to, but my mind hasn’t quite come along for the ride. A rather otherworldly state is therefore created to compensate for my mental retardation. I’m not completely certain how much good this description does for the reader, but I hoped that it may help one embody the following events through a similar lens as I had harnessed when experiencing them.

Flight has always been an enjoyable occasion for me, even when the situation may tend to inform against such optimistic outlooks. As such, I checked in, passed through security and boarded the Boeing 737 to Melbourne in a completely relaxed state. We left the ground on time and without a single hiccup. The Australian coastline smiled back at me as I gazed upon it from my window seat and soon after the cheerful stewardesses supplied me with a delicious carrot cake accompanied by a bottle of juice. Even for those who find air travel unfavorable, this would have had to rank as a thoroughly enjoyable experience.

Of course, it was too good to be true. The child sitting in the row behind us grew restless and let out a scream to wake me from my peaceful slumber that I had drifted into. Dannielle was seated beside me, directly in front of the child, and apparently her seat wished to be reclined at all times, regardless of her desires. Perhaps the chair was aware of the child’s antsy state and wished to serve as an accomplice to his experimentation in the trying our patience for the child quickly transformed the back of Dannielle’s chair into a springboard for propelling himself off of his own seat. Apparently the child was also in training to become a puppeteer as he paraded a miniature representation of Ronald McDonald across the top of Dannielle’s head.

Amazingly Dannielle had no negative reaction to the child hijacking her comfortable seat and expropriating her skull; I commend her self-restraint. This foray does not end there though; as we began to descend toward Melbourne the child, or rather annoyance filled sack of skin, found it imperative to let everyone know of the pressure differential occurring in his auditory center, or as he put it over and over again, “Mommy my ears are popping, mommy my ears are popping, etc.”

Now I realize that the subject in question is a child, actually an infant, and cannot be expected to understand issues of physics and anatomy in relation to varying dimensions of altitude, but I have never come across an individual with such an elongated period of auditory pressure equalization (ear popping). We landed, taxied to the gate, unloaded, picked up our baggage, and he was still reiterating his original statement. However, there was a brighter side to all of this as Dannielle pointed out to me; close encounters with unruly infants operate as a free and easy form of birth control for all those within earshot.

Cockatoo Island [July 9th After the Barbie]

Cockatoo Island was Australia's version of Alcatraz way back in the day, but it has also been used heavily for ship making in the past. Now, it hosts the Australian Biennale and is open to the public, but many of the structures from it's long history are still present.

Manly Beach [July 11th Before DRAG!]

This friendly fella came right up to me and asked for a piece of my bread, so I gave him some.

Sunset at Manly Lagoon

Work Week

Most of this past week has been filled with studio work. We have all been preparing our projects for our 'final' critique that we had on Thursday. I place final in quotes because we're not anywhere near done with the progression of our projects. After all, we only had three weeks to work on them. A large amount of development is still needed before any of us can claim to have a finished product.

The crit was great though. Some of us got better responses from the jurors than others, but all of us received valuable feedback. We were hosted at Richard Goodwin's studio for the event and you'll all have to google his work because it's something else. Trained as an architect, considered one of Australia's greatest artists, he has a marvelous mind. Deconstructed/exploded models of vehicles litter the shelves what used to be a meatpacking plant. The original sheet metal interior wall cladding and industrial sized drains remain, but the meathooks have been removed. However, the space holds no feelings of it's former life. Richard has adorned almost every surface with is work including a full scale motorcycle blown apart and held in a static state as if frozen in the midst of an explosion. I think we were all a little awestruck and humbled by the whole experience.

Of course Richard was only one of our jurors. Stefan Lehman, Janet Laurence, Nick Seemann, and Naomi Shediezki were also in attendance. I know most, if not all of these names will be alien to you, but believe me, they are all masters in there fields (art & architecture). If nothing else the networking opportunities alone merit the value of this trip. Then again, it's so much more than that, and it's all a bit surreal.

DRAG!

Saturday night (July 11^th) and I find myself at the Sydney Opera House to see my first ever drag show. Though there are two other male students on this trip, neither of them felt like attending this function for whatever reasons. So it is that I stand beside Carmen, Jenna, Dannielle, and Jenny with beverage in hand as I scan the crowd waiting for the theater doors to open. We have come for the opening gala and through my skills of observation I would venture to say that I was one out of maybe ten straight men present.

As a member of society never before exposed to drag shows, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect other then some men dressed up in women’s closing. Let me tell you, it sure is more than that. Now given, this was at the Sydney Opera House and they explained that they had scoured Sydney for the cream of the crop, as far as drag shows go, so this was meant to be the tip-top of the drag show spectrum. In a word . . . FABULOUS! Just a side note, the dress attire requested for this show was, and I kid you not, glitter.

It really does mess with your mind from time to time when some of the performers mount that stage in their glamerous costumes and you think to yourself, “Boy, that gal has some pretty well defined muscles . . . hey wait a minute, that’s a MAN . . . why do I find him attractive . . . Oh gosh, am I gay?” And so it is that the drag show is meant to mess with your mind, and it does . . . a lot. However, in between such acts of confusion there sprinklings of pure hilarity in the form of what I will term ‘Over Drag’ meaning simply an over-the-top form of drag in which the performers are not dressing up as a seductive figure but rather a grotesque and poor excuse for a female. ‘Over Drag’ comes in many forms: trashy, old, obese, circus clown-esque, and just down right ugly. Whichever form it takes, it’s awesomely laughter inducing and also provides a period of time for your mind to recover between gender bending confusion.

Overall, I must say DRAG! gets two big thumbs up from me. I can’t wait to go to another. Certain songs like “My Milkshakes Bring All the Boys to the Yard” will never be the same for me, but I believe they’ve been upgraded in that sense. And hey, all the girls I went with gave me mad props for enduring the experience with such frivolity.

Throw that Gourmet Food on the Barbie!

So speeding up through last week (there was a lot of this and that, and to tell the truth I can’t remember it all so I’ll skip to the good parts) Thursday the 9^th was just another school day like any other . . . oh wait, let me rephrase that, it was another amazing experience that we were gifted with exclusively as students of Adrian Parr & Michael Zaretsky! I’m not sure if I’ve covered this well enough yet, but our professors have the tightest connections here in Australia. Of course, this somewhat stems from the fact that Adrian’s father and Aunt are both well know contemporary artists living in Sydney; and since she grew up, studied, and taught in Sydney and Melbourne, the ties run deep.

Regressing back from my point of departure, Brian Zulaikha of TZG architects and his wife Janey Laurence, invited the team over to marvel at their contemporary home and participate in our first ever Ausi Barbie! Now let me first point out that the act of BBQing in Australia is a much-loved pastime centered on togetherness and community. However, unlike I was expecting, it apparently doesn’t have to have much of anything to do with actually grilling anything. Our meal consisted of a fine assortment of cheeses, breads, spreads, vegetables, sashimi, and cooked fish. Not at all what I had imagined going into this, but what a mouthwatering platter of delicious delicacies it ended up being. Oh . . . I’m salivating just reminiscing about it . . . give me a second . . . mmmmmmmmm, soooooo good!

Right, getting back to the topic; Tim Greer (another partner at TZG Architects) and his wife, Lilly, were also in attendance at the shindig and provided some great conversation as we milled about the house in amazement. Yes, that’s right, we were still in architecture mode during throughout our time at Brian’s house, but this isn’t just any regular house either. The domicile I speak of has been featured in Dwell Magazine as well as Architecture Bulletin and possibly many more that I have not yet come across. It is internationally revered as a significant piece of contemporary residential architecture. Heated slabs, squeaky clean detailing, sliding everything, and a gorgeous harbor view to boot; this place has it going on. It may just be the architects that we’ve had the pleasure of meeting thus far, but I’ve found an infatuation with all things sliding here. Kind of like how all the animals here are inclined to hop (I’ve seen birds hopping here, yeah, CRAZY).

Anyways, I won’t bog you down with the architectural terminology that goes along with my interactions in Brian’s house, so just suffice it to say . . . SWEETNESS!

Valley Views

Faces Reminiscing on Places

The practice of Aboriginal face and body painting was shared with some of us during our walkabout through the bush. Though certain symbols were used originally to tell a story with each work of body art (as well as other forms of art) the designs we sported stemmed only from visual aesthetic. Having said that, it's astonishing how much more noticeable you become when walking around populated areas with these masterpieces blazed across your face. I cannot count the number of times that I induced feverish double takes. I seem to have been regarded as a tourist destination to a group of Asian travelers at our mountain hostel as well. Just a side note, these paints were all originally made using natural colors from the earth (charcoals, clays, and sandstones). I'd urge you to have a go at it and have a trek through your local mall . . . it's just interesting to see peoples reactions.

A Natural Sensibility

Let me first note that I am slightly behind on these blog entries and as such have some ground to make up. The following encounter occurred last week on Friday the 3rd.

The group shuffled onto the 8:30 to Lithgow and plopped into rows of soft leather seats on the upper deck. Some of us slept, others read, but none of us were in the same mindset that we would be later that day. An hour and a half later, coats were zipped up and hands shoved in pockets as the warmth of the train was traded for the nippy mountain air at Faulconbridge Station. Escaping the confines of the station, our Aboriginal tour guide, Evan, met us and sat us down for a talk. He was quick to explain one of the first questions entering our minds, his skin color.

Up to this point we had viewed historical pictures and read literature of dark skinned Aboriginals, but before us sat a man with skin as fair as an average caucasian. Apparently, the last dark skinned Aboriginals in the Sydney area passed away about 30 years ago, the remaining members of the local Darug Aboriginal community are of mixed blood, but the cultural traditions continue.

Evan instructed us to be weary of our footsteps, to 'tread lightly' as the earth is a living thing to. Jumping on another persons back may break their ribs, so too do the Aborigines feel you may harm the earth if you don't regard it as a living breathing entity. He warned us that the practices that he would ask us to entertain may seem odd or make us uncomfortable, but this all comes with understanding cultural differences. To get the most out of our Aboriginal walk we were to open our minds and ensconce ourselves in the environment and atmosphere of the Aboriginal song line that we would be hiking.

Climbing to our feet, we followed Evan into the bush under a shroud of silence. In line, one-by-one we snaked along the thin footpath that led us to our first stopping point. Crowding into a shallow cave Evan instructed us to take the eucalyptus leaves that we had plucked from a tree along the way and 'crush them up' to release their fragrance. Then we were to split the leaf in twain and roll the two halves up so that they fit up our nostrils. Obviously not something we were used to, but an act we all followed without question anyways. Evan explained that the oils from the eucalyptus leaves were a natural antioxidant and had been used by Aborigines for generations as a form of simple bush medicine. I have to say, the practice grew on me and I found myself showing eucalyptus leaves up my nose on my following hiking journeys.

After we had all breathed in the healing oils of the eucalyptus, Evan explained to us the way in which his people experienced the world around them. He mentioned the turn of phrase 'come to your senses' and explained that his people embodied this saying in the original, more literal meaning of it. To actually come to, or be with, your senses; completely alert and attentive to our environment through all of our 5 senses. To this end, Evan encouraged us to participate in what he termed a 'touching ritual' in which while walking in the bush one runs their hand along a plant and imagines the plant coursing through their body. This act is meant to only start as imagination and as practiced, be realized as a true feeling. It may not be culturally correct to say this, but I liken it to the placebo effect. If one believes something to be true, then it becomes a reality for the individual. Through this ritual, the mind and body are to be filled with the good energy of the rainbow serpent spirit and an elevated state achieved. In a way, it's as if the plants are sharing their life force with you.

We were told to continually practice this throughout the days hike making sure to concentrate on imagining the the plants passing through us and cleansing us in doing so. I did as I was instructed, and I can't tell for sure, but by the end I was feeling as if touching the plants was inducing a sensation of light heartedness. I wasn't sure if this was the feeling I was meant to be experiencing, but Evan assured me that i was headed in the right direction and prompted me to keep on practicing the ritual.

The path that we hiked was, in the words of the Aborigines, "the song [story] of the place." destinations along the way helped elaborate on the story with carvings in the rock faces of native animals and Aboriginal heros. Each step is meant to be part of this story and each obstacle passed has meaning for being there. Along the way we were taught of various other bush medicines and 'bush tucka' - naturally growing edible plants and berries. Very little is left of ancient Aboriginal culture because their entire relationship to the land was one of symbiotic harmony in which they were provided for by nature and in so doing had no reason to leave any permanent imprints upon it. Nature replenished itself, and as part of nature so to were they kept alive an in good spirits.

The sites were incredible, the lessons were priceless, and the journey was unforgettable. If all we had experienced up to this point was not enough to demand our fascination with Australia, this trip to the Blue Mountains sealed the deal. It's quite easy to understand why many people travel down here and never end up returning home . . . I hope this doesn't scare any of the parents of students on this trip. We love Australia, but then again we still have much to accomplish before we can think about settling down anywhere, much less a foreign country.

Sunset on the Bay