Saturday, February 24, 2018

Julie Clarke Pencil Drawings January/February 2018

I've been busy over the past few weeks making A3 pencil drawings inspired by some of the Disruptive Faciality digital images. Here are some of them. Others will be posted later. Apologies that I haven't made any blog posts, but I suffer from Vestibular Migraine symptoms at least three days per week, every week in Summer and find coping a little challenging. 
Julie Clarke (c) 2018

Julie Clarke (c) 2018

Julie Clarke (c) 2018

Julie Clarke (c) 2018

Wednesday, January 31, 2018

Disruptive faciality

I haven't forgotten about the blog or my readers, but as most Melbournians would know we've had several bouts of very hot weather and I've hardly been motivated to do much more than take an early morning walk (before the heat set in), see an occasional film at the cinema and meet up with some friends. I have however in the past week or so begun a new project that focusses primarily on self-portraits that I've been making using my Windows phone. They are self-portraits with a twist as I am distorting my facial image by moving my head or moving the mobile phone as it takes my photo. The project engages with genetics, evolution, self-identity within a technological landscape, the 'selfie' and expectations and behavior surrounding it. Indeed, I intended to subvert the selfie by selecting the most distorted, most unusual portraits, which I've been posting on Facebook instead of selecting the most desirable image of my face (whatever that is). As I've been doing this project I have begun to appreciate the face as landscape, its hills and furrows, valleys and crevices. It exposes faciality as a surface on which we project our own fears and desires. I've done about 50 images. Here is an example. Please note that none of the images have been manipulated in anyway in Photoshop or any other computer program.
Self-portrait with Windows phone. Julie Clarke (c) 2018

Saturday, December 30, 2017

The year that was...

I'm going to attempt to encapsulate my year in as few words as possible. I was a sessional tutor of Indigenous students in first semester at the University of Melbourne, had influenza for the first time in fifteen years and during the year was diagnosed with osteoporosis, a heart murmer and various other health issues to add to the existing list. I began my Old Knitter of Black Wool project about ageing, photographed women's hands, spoke to women over the age of fifty, but eventually gave up on the whole idea as non sustainable, in that I didn't want to dwell on the negative. I gave up going to the gymnasium and opted instead for taking long morning walks. In early August through to mid October I began using the Victorian train network and visited Elthan, Sandringham, Altona, Port Melbourne, Willamstown beach and Geelong. I ventured further afield to Castlemaine, Ballarat, Bendigo, Morwell and twice to Seymour. By undertaking this I managed to overcome some long held phobias. I took hundreds of photographs of our beautiful rural landscape. On my return from these trips I did a number of drawings and paintings. I did a Deleuzian reading/writing of Leonie Osowski's crochet project, which will be included in an esotetic book soon to be published. Academia. edu has reported to me that 303 people from 51 countries have read my papers, that is, essays and academic articles I posted on their site. I consider I've had a productive year and look forward to 2018. I would like to take this opportunity to thank those who have visited my blog and wish for you all much happiness for the coming year. The paintings I've posted here were done in November and December.

Sunday, November 12, 2017

Three small paintings

Bridge. Acrylic paint on 26.4 x 18.4 cm hard board. Julie Clarke (c) 2017

Crossing. Acrylic paint on 22.8 x 30.5 cm hardboard. Julie Clarke (c) 2017
Eucalypt exsanguinated. Acrylic paint on 30.5 x 22.8 cm hardboard. Julie Clarke (c) 2017
Painting size, border not included.

Friday, November 3, 2017


This one almost looks like a painting. Old Goulburn River Bridge.
Photo: Julie Clarke (c) 2017
Photo: Julie Clarke (c) 2017
Badly in need of repair. Photo: Julie Clarke (c) 2017

Bridge and river. Photo: Julie Clarke (c) 2017
Idyllic surroundings. Photo: Julie Clarke (c) 2017

For years I've been aware that my great grandfather William Farquharson and his brother James (along with their crew) built the magnificent bridge at Swan Hill, but it was only earlier this week that I discovered they were prolific bridge builders, having built bridges at Tocumwal, Cobram, Albury and the Goulburn River Bridge at Seymour. For heritage listing of bridge see:
I'd visited Seymour on 2 October and took several photographs of the Goulburn river that ran behind the Royal Hotel, one of the first buildings in Seymour and was unaware that I was but a fifteen minute walk from the 125 year old bridge built by the Farquharson Bros in 1892. The bridge was used in WW2 to carry heavy army vehicles and equipment and although a new bridge was built in 1967 the old Goulburn River bridge still continued to serve as the crossing for traffic to Puckapunyal until the building of the Hume highway in 1982. It was closed off to public access due to disrepair, however the Shire of Mitchell and Friends of the Bridge are resigned to bringing the bridge back to her former glory. I was determined to see the bridge even though I new that I wouldn't be able to walk on it or touch it, so when I went to Seymour yesterday I drew upon guidance from the Seymour Information Center and Mitchells Bus line who pointed me in the right direction and warned me, given I would be walking, to keep an eye out for snakes.
I'd had a pleasant journey from Southern Cross Station to Wallan conversing with Dr Roger Hartnett who traveled there twice a week. On arrival I had coffee at the beautiful art deco Railway Club hotel and then I caught Mitchells bus to the Seymour Information Center. After crossing the double and extremely busy Emily Street freeway I decided against venturing along the secluded track and instead walked 1.5 km alongside the main road to the bridge, which was nestled at the end of old Hume Highway Road.
Although the area was cordoned off with a tall cyclone fence I was struck with this old, but beautiful structure that blended into the surrounding landscape and seemed somehow to exude a quiescence even though the cry of Kookaburras and the buzz of insects was audible. There was a flock of Major Mitchell Cockatoos savaging on the ground and beautiful Rosella's in the trees. I found an open area of the fence and took a few photographs of the bridge. I hesitated going onto it because it may have been dangerous. I walked half the way back and then called a taxi because my left ankle was sore. I'm pleased that I've had a sense of my family history in something very solid and material, more so than a photograph.
Photo: Julie Clarke (c) 2017

Friday, October 27, 2017

Spring with a hint of summer warmth

Spring with a hint of summer warmth. Acrylic paint on
40.7 x 40.7 cm stretched canvas.
Julie Clarke (c) 2017
Unfortunately, try as I may I cannot get my Window Phone to digitally represent the colors and nuances in the original painting. The subtle mauves and gold hues appear lost in the photo above. Nevermind. I've run out of canvas and my Matisse acrylic paint has been vastly reduced even though I purchased four new colors in the past week. So, this may be the last painting in this series, which really should be called Seen from the window of a train, but that would not be totally correct for although I photographed much of the landscape I saw these paintings are impressions, rather than any attempt to depict the scenes in traditional landscape manner. I'm currently attempting (with the help of some friends) to price the drawings and paintings. Will keep you all posted in case you are interested in purchasing one.

Wednesday, October 25, 2017


Weeds that make white flowers.
Acrylic paint on 45.7 X 45.7 cm stretched canvas.
Julie Clarke (c) 2017

Saturday, October 21, 2017


Imagining Mt. Warrenheip. Acrylic paint on 40.7 x 40.7 cm stretched canvas.
Julie Clarke (c) 2017
On my way to Ballarat last week I saw from a distance in the train and then closer still when I was in the city of Ballarat, the beautiful, dark and mysterious extinct volcano called Mr. Warrenheip. I discovered that aboriginals referred to it as 'mountain with emu feathers', so although the mountain doesn't have a lake nearby I imagined it shaped like an emu egg, the silence of space and time, the place uninhabited. I intend to reimagine Mt. Buninyong as well - the  canvas I have is still empty, its probably something I will begin next week as I was busy yesterday and will be most of the weekend.