 In the middle of the night, I woke to the sound of something not right. As I raised my hand in questioning, no breeze was felt. On adjusting my vision to the darkness of the unfamiliar, a perplexing strange amiss had befallen the fan. In my acceptance of whatever oddity had occurred, I turned off the fan and went back to my stupor provoked by my month of persistent late nights.
This was the first night of my Ironbark Residency. On arrival we had been welcomed generously by the STAA in the form of Tom, Marian and Ian. Therese my residency peer and I had laughed a lot and stayed up late. We threw ourselves into the unsettling of this place. With vivid and eerie stories abound, I felt enlivened, and my goosebumps flared. She enacted her first dramatic impromptu spoken word performance. It was a ripper. The morning revealed the drama of the night. Plastic shards were splintered over the bed, within my bedding and even expelled under the door gap at the other side of the room. The fan blades had exploded. I am unharmed. There is no question – my openness to be influenced by this place and time has been roused. I am going to start with a portrait painting of the fan. The Ironbark Arts Residency Program is co-produced by Orana Arts Inc and the STAA. Comments are closed.
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April 2023
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