I used to roam a lot- around the city, around the streets- just soaking in life, talking to strangers- staring at images... reading books, scrawling bits and pieces of words and beginnings of pictures that never quite read or looked right. Daydreaming. Wondering why i was here or there or anywhere for that matter. Big intellectual existential questions, cushioned by teen angst (well into my 20's) and a romantic idea that tortured was akin to genius.
I used to write- because the moment i learnt to read- i thought words were the most extraordinary gifts. Where a painting to me always came as a surprise- a miraculous representation of someone elses mind... made visual, tangible and share-able-
Books- books were always a space to create. Noone ever quite reads two books the same. Of this i'm semi certain. We can't imagine two characters quite the exact same way, no two cities written would look alike in two separate minds... this is why movies based on books- always fall short.
I love words. I love the feeling of watching a moment in the words unfold and wrap around me, transcending space and time and all the boundaries i ever saw at any given moment of my life. I found freedom in other peoples letters, and whenever things became confusing in reality- i would trail through shelves in bookstores and libraries, searching for an answer. Searching for myself in the centuries of wisdom before me.
When i had children, i lost time. The whirlwind of everydays, would often end with a resentment... a feeling of sacrificed spaces.
Some days i feel as though i've changed, into something and someone i no longer recognise. Some days amongst the screaming at kids to FOR GODS SAKE JUUUUUUUUUUSSSSSSSSSST LISSSSSSSSSSSSSTEEEEEEEEEN!! amidst the ten thousand considerations of being an adult- i don't know if i even like the person i've become.
There is not much time for daydreaming anymore. No time for Art and Literature.
Or so i thought.... When i began to think of Project Gratitude... I started to look for the things that bring me small smiles throughout the day... in my home- my sometimes santuary, sometimes prison - the factory of neverending chores... and the kids- salvation and destruction rolled into one... chaotic and divine...
In the spaces i piece together now, the strange and wonderful discovery that i still surround myself with Art and Literature. I am too tired too be tortured. Insomnia gave way to exhaustion. Self centered indulgence to a biological conditioning to nurture.
I still admire images everyday- i've surrounded myself with a new kinda Art... and as for literature... i've rediscovered favourites- long forgotten in the years of dust and the mundanity of growing up. Books i'll get to later... each is tied to a moment i want to record and not forget. These are the new treasures of my days.
Here i present you with some images from my very own gallery - an evolving exhibition of extraordinary proportions...
'Untitled'
By Stella Linh Vo
Aged 3
I paid her $5 for this. My first piece of investment art. It summarises the heart of everything. These kids at this moment are the core of everything we are. She's drawn them to scale, Tivi being the eldest and the biggest and Nathan being the newest of them all. They're holding hands and wearing their favourite colours. Hehehe priceless.
Mummy, Belly
Tivianh Aroha De'souza
Aged 2
When i was pregnant with Che, Tivi came in one night sat herself down on the ground and proceeded to draw the first ever proportioned person. Out of no where she produced a face all its features, a 'big belly' and all the limbs, on the next page she drew the babushka doll like shape... 'This is you mummy and thats the baby in your belly.'
I remember looking at Zane thinking where the heck did that come from? and picking her up telling her how much i loved it and squeezing her so tight she squeeked a little and squirmed away running off as if it were no big deal. I wonder how long i'll remember this as clearly as i do now.
Mum
By Tivianh
Aged 3
A year after my first ever portrait, Tivi drew another. It never fails to make me smile. Coz despite the fact that i'm balding and missing two arms- I look incredibly satisfied and happy. The crazy eyes are definitely true to life. I look dizzy with happiness.
For Mum then taken back.
By Tivianh
Aged 4
This she gave me a couple of weeks ago. I've evolved to full colour, aparently lost more hair, but botoxed my lips and got me a lovely new pair of giant ears. i'm no longer sporting crazy eyes, but still happy and that's all that matters. The picture is titled so, because she took it back when i threatened her with taking away her colouring books for crimes of not listening and eating breakfast.
Balloon heads
By Vinnie Luong
aged in her teens somewhere at the time
This was hanging up in the living room - it ends a little sadly for the balloon lady all frail and alone, i dunno why she painted it but i liked it so i stole it and made it ours. It's since been replaced on the wall by a series of photographs by the same artist.
'Mugshots'
By Vinnie
Usurped sad balloon family story. These are the inmates of my prison. They don't look happy do they. We call it the De'souza 'default face' they get it from their father. The photos are awesome anyway... and Kynans smiling away.
Moments in Black and White
The door to the kids room is always open. Vinnies black and white moments are surreal to me. Sometimes i don't know who these kids are at all.... and what is there to say when you're hit with the feeling of knowing something so well and not knowing anything at all.
Fridge Art
Colllections by various artists
My favourite smile inducing pictures from the many that they produce each week. Che is new to this- he never had an interest in drawing til recently, his pencil grasp is shocking so drawing circles has been an achievement only recently made. I heart ball people with limbs sticking out of their heads. And sharks. Awesome.
Discovering Colour
By Jacien Desouza
Aged 1
New to the Art Scene, the first time i got him to paint, his hands got dirty and he looked completely disgusted, wiped them all over his clothes and ran away crying refusing to touch it again. Haha... weeks of coaxing and playgroups later- JC discovers the fun of painting, with brushes, fingers and anything he can find.
Japanese Dolls
Aunty Vy
The childrens room has accumalated by some coincidence furniture that is all white. The room itself is colourful and bright because of my obsession with wall stickers (perhaps i'll feature them later on). Aunty Vy's 3 piece artwork hangs on their wall. Bright happy and right at home.
Birthday Presents
Marty Welch
In our bedroom, on the shelf that used to be Tivis- my 30th birthday present from Marty aka Artist Stephen Martyn Welch. I've always wanted to own one of his works... and to have 3, created just for me is beyond insanely cool.
So who am i to complain when i have a team of artists- creating just for my private collection... i dont need to roam to search for inspiration any more- these days amazement comes with small hands- excited voices, the words 'Look what i drew mummy/aunty, do you like it?'. It's crazy to be given so many perspectives on the world. Ever changing, always wonderful.
On behalf of project gratitude, a bow and a curtsy. Thank you my good fellows, for filling my spaces with joy and colour.
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