Love, Loss and Intimacy

Self-Portrait - Vernon Ah Kee (2007). Photograph: Julie Clarke, 2010

Sometimes the days just slip by through sunshine and talking. Ran into Frank and Leonie Osowski at the NGV today whilst looking at the Love, Loss and Intimacy Exhibition, which included some beautiful prints and drawings. However, I was most taken by a large-scale self-portrait on canvas by the contemporary Indigenous artist Vernon Ah Kee. The furrowed brow and the compelling questioning look on the artist's face, confronts and returns our gaze. I had all good intentions to read much more than I did of Duff's Once Were Warriors (I've only read another 22 pages), but found myself walking along the river at Southbank, taking in the view - trying to ignore the crowds of people who had gathered for the Sunday craft market, and then slowly making my way up over Princes Bridge and into the city crowd. I felt old today. Thank goodness it's a feeling that passes, but it does come at the strangest times. It might have been because the weather was hot or because the crowd appeared to be walking at a faster pace than I, or was it that whilst I was looking at the river I remembered a different kind of Melbourne, the Melbourne of my childhood, run-down old buildings, the constant grey sky, people in heavy over-coats. My memories are almost always of Winter, the cold, the rain and opened umbrellas as far as the eye could see. The GPO (General Post Office) was where everyone would meet, (either that or they would meet under the clocks at Flinders Street Railway Station, although this appears to have been appropriated now by hoards of teenagers with mobile phones permanently affixed to their ears) and although the interior was damaged by fire a few years ago the facade and steps were saved, so it's still a popular meeting place. No, I think I felt old, because as I was listening to one of the bands in the city and moving along with the music I caught sight of some teenagers who were having a bit of a chuckle and looking in my direction. Of course I didn't stop moving just because they thought my movements humorous - I just returned their gaze until they averted their eyes. I'm not feeling quite so old now, even though I have uncomfortable neurological symptoms in my spine, a legacy of having osteo-arthritis in several vertebrae. I'm home in my cave - the familiar is comfortable. But isn't that always the case?