camping — Body of Work

A Winter's Chair

Sitting in a chair designed to fold adorned by winter sun with the warming glow keeping me company, I was beset with an unfamiliar realisation that I had nothing to do.

Absolutely nothing.

Nowhere to be. Nothing requiring my focus. No tasks to complete. No immediate responsibility for staff.

My family were content and healthy, and my mobile phone was out of reach.

There were caravans arranged in methodical fashion, creating shelter and privacy - not that it was needed.

Reflection, AnecdoteBrian Wightman25 July 2021camping, calm, waves, East Coast Tasmania, fire, campfire

When the Wind Blows

Geoffrey Dyer is dead.

He painted Richard Flanagan and won the Archibald Prize in 2003.

I am reading Flanagan's new novel.

Artists and writers inspire me: their craft, their dedication, their toil, and their need.

They are like old friends.

I had a glass of something with Dyer and a glass of something else with Flanagan in a bar on Salamanca.

ReflectionBrian Wightman12 October 2020Dyer, Flanagan, tragedy, wind, camping, rain, view, trees, mood, perspective, art, artists, crash, books, music, volunteers