Pencil sketches.

After not picking up a pencil in 12 months I thought I would go to the art gallery, armed only with a 2b pencil and my sketchbook to see what i could do with tones etc. Note that i did not take a sharpener or eraser with me. These two pictures are the result.

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He said, She said.

My latest poem after yet another star was accused of inappropriate behaviour, and  is now condemned before trial

He said

She said

But if she said, then what he said is moot.

Kill the Artist, Burn the Art.

Fat Albert rode six white boomers

across Parramatta Park while

two little boys played with their two little toys and looked on.

Don’t graduate The Graduate.

Let’s beat up Rocky, knock down the House of Cards

And not listen to music ever again.

It’s a thriller that I’m Bad

Rewrite History

He never existed, never was.

What happens to her if we scrub him from existence.

Nothing really happened.

Guilty! Rot in Gaol

Innocent, live in the gaol of your already condemned life.

Never the same again.

Hush! Don’t mention it.

Keep Silent.

Die

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Deng Adut

The other evening, I was asked to photograph the New Members Ceremony for the Golden Key Honours Society from Western Sydney University Campus. Areas of Western Sydney are areas of welfare and poverty, and it was inspirational to hear stories of people who have managed to achieve high marks in their studies so far. Only the top 15% of students are offered a place in this society which prides itself on 3 pillars, Academia, Leadership and Service.IMG_2147

I have been a member of Golden Key now for about 8 months, having first been invited when I was doing my degree at ACU. It was because of my involvement with that chapter, that I was invited to take the photos at the ceremony for new members.

One of the highlights of the evening for me, was hearing a young man named Deng Adut give the keynote speech, and receive his honorary membership to the society. Deng was born in Sudan. At 6 years of age, he was taken by an army from his war torn village. he was made into a child soldier. Deng has written a book of his harrowing ordeals called “Songs of a War Boy”. you can purchase a copy here. http://dengadut.com/dengs-book/IMG_2220 (2)

Deng was shot a number of times and carried schrapnel around in his body. As a result of one of his injuries, he was unsure whether he would be able to father a child. On Friday evening, he told us a miracle had occurred and he became a father 3 weeks previous.

Deng arrived with his brothers, still a wounded child. When he arrived, he could not speak much English, and he could not read or write. He taught himself and did anything he could to drag himself through school and later University, graduating in Accountancy and then Masters of Law. He is now a partner in his own law firm, and a greatly sought after public speaker. Deng gave the Australian of the Year speech in 2016 and became NSW Australian of the year in 2017.

It was an honour to hear him speak, inspiring the high acheiving students in the room to keep going.

The older brother who helped Deng escape into Kenya, to later be granted refugee status in Australia, returned to South Sudan as an Aid worker. Unfortunately he lost his life while saving others. deng has started a foundation in his honour. It is called the John Mac Foundation. It is “a charity working to educate and empower refugees and people whose lives have been interrupted by war.” Donations to the charity, and to find out more about it, you can go to http://johnmacfoundation.org/

I hope you find inspiration in the life of Deng Adut. If a wounded Child Soldier, who cant speak English, work to achieve a Masters of Law, become a father, and help so many others, what can someone who grew up in a privileged western society do.

Blessings

Dave

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Albury/Wodonga in Winter

In Australia, on the border of NSW and Victoria, there is a twin set of towns called Albury and Wodonga. What separates the two is the mighty Murray River. One of my friends recently retired and moved down to Albury from Sydney. I went to visit him in July, between semesters at Uni. Its an Historic town, with some lovely old buildings including an iconic pub. Some of the photos were taken at the lookout, up a nearby hill. Some were taken in the towns botanical gardens. Here are some of the results of that visit.

Enjoy

Dave

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Pacifist?

(written after my course ended but still relevant to the course, so I have included it under the subject of American Writing in the menu,)

Recently I studied Allen Ginsberg, Kerouac and other beatnik poems. Ginsberg called himself a pacifist. I questioned this. I believe I have the same protesting spirit as Ginsberg and others, however I do not call myself a pacifist.

a person who believes in pacifism or is opposed to war or to violence of any kind. 2. a person whose personal belief in pacifism causes him or her to refuse being drafted into military service. Compare conscientious objector.

A passivist is something quite different. It means being submissive in nature, particularly in a sexual situation.

I am not sure which Allen Ginsberg was referring to, I don’t want to think about the second. I do believe he was a lover of peace, however was not a true pacifist in the sense of the word.

My words, writing my mind can be a weapon against an oppressive, corrupt or unjust government, rulers or laws. As a protest poet, I shoot my literary arrow deep into the hearts of leaders, and others who can make a difference, until their hearts bleed empathy. I do not stop until I wound. I am not to kill with my words (as a famous song does), but to heal. Where one was running into battle as an oppressor, he now limps away, with his heart changed and fights for the opposition to the oppressive.A-1678614-1321804331.jpeg

My words, my art and my photos are not meant to leave you comfortable if I am working on a social justice or human rights issue. They will not give you warm and fuzzy feelings. They are meant to make it feel like you are sitting on granite, something hard and uncomfortable enough to make you want to move.

 

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Just Don’t

Don’t touch me

Don’t Touch Me

DON’T TOUCH ME

Don’t look at me

Don’t Look at Me

DON’T LOOK AT ME

Don’t talk to me

Don’t Talk To Me

DON’T TALK TO ME

Don’t use endearing names. Call me nothing but the name I was given.

He is offensive, She is offensive, They doesn’t make sense when talking of one person, but that is preferred.

When I am sad, don’t hug me to comfort me. Let your shoulder to cry on only be metaphorical not actual.

When greeting me, don’t even think to kiss my cheek, don’t offer to shake a hand, it wont be accepted.

We live in a society when anything we do or say can be misconstrued, misinterpreted, misunderstood. Best to do nothing, lest we offend…and get sued.

We are global citizens, superficially connected to many, but attached to nobody. Share the world, share the meme, share the joke, but don’t dare try to share my space.

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End of an Era

Here in Sydney, in an eclectic suburb called Newtown, There is an iconic second-hand bookshop that has entertained the masses with reading material, and provided students at nearby Sydney University with cheaper text books for over 50 years.

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It has come to my attention, and the attention of many more with the help of newspaper and radio media that this shop is going to close.  I was grieved to hear this, and so I went, to buy some books, and to get the real story.

The bookshop was one of many opened and run by Bob Gould, who was an activist during the 60’s who protested war and conscription. Bob died in 2011 after falling from a ladder in the bookshop while sorting books. It is at present run by one of his daughters, and staffed by dedicated staff that really have been there for years.

There are over 75,000 titles in their catalogue. Many of these titles have multiple copies. I would estimate over 100,000 books in this store. When I asked about a title, the attendant knew exactly where it was, called another attendant to go get it for me, and gave him a torch. This tore would not be out of place in a JK Rowling book. I can see some young witches lining up at the counter all seeking second hand copies of Spells and Incantations or something.20171102_153254

I went just to browse really, and managed to find some books by the author Orson Scott Card, who is a favorite science fiction writer. I also picked up two books by David Marr, on Patrick White, whom I just studied as part of my BA (lit). The books were very reasonably priced, and in good condition.

The Mural was commissioned by the government at the time, but was then rejected as too political. So Bob Gould bought it and it has had pride of place just inside the front door ever since. It has a kind of William Blake look about it to me. Does anyone else see that?20171102_153223

The good news is that this store is not closing. The rent has forced them out of Newtown but the owner are looking for a new premises in which to keep the legend of Gould’s alive. If anyone has such a premises that can hold all of these books, contact the owners. Then comes a team or people needed to move it all. I think I am going to be sick that week.

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