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Jim Anderson's Fine Art Prints of any of the photographs and collages you see here, as well as other works done over the years, are available by contacting him at

The real national day it is now being called, a day when the higher spiritual values of the Australian people are called into play. Be afraid, be very afraid.

Desperadoes or With every passing year, Anzac Day assumes a larger significance for Australian people.

Pictured is a reimagined Cenotaph in Sydney's Martin Place. Those 'desperadoes' are army deserters (for whatever reason) from the trials and tribulations of World War 1.

Geoff Ostling one of the world's most heavily tattooed men, (his skin is going to a museum when he passes on), gets a little heavier. A back of the hand waratah. See also below for earlier picture of Geoff.

Geoff and the expert needle man at an upstairs tattoo parlour with a beautiful polished floor, and mucho tattoo memorabilia, off Cleveland Street in Sydney's Surry Hills. No pain no gain.

Gaynor Tension takes the floor beneath William Yang's signature alter ego and I am a Camera photograph and belts out Swannee dedicated to Julia Gillard and her Deputy and Treasurer as he struggles needlessly to bring in a budget surplus.But maybe the cuts if well chosen, will be one in the eye for Tony Abbott who is blathering on about the cuts cuts cuts he is going to make.

Gaynor does Shirley Bassey's Hey Big Spender and Diamonds are Forever to bring South Hill's Mardi Gras 2012 Outreach exhibition to a rousing close. Desperate trash queen and low level whore (as she describes herself) Lady Jo Jo provided hit and miss back-alley backup, the likes of which Goulburn had never seen before.

This full page ad on back page of Sydney Morning Herald's GoodWeekend (17March 2012) and Circular Quay billboards,was sexy but also a little silly, deserving of a send-up, if for nothing but the way that big hand is grasping the neck of the bottle.

OUTLOUD, a Mardi Gras Festival annual event at TAP GALLERY, (Burton & Palmer Streets, Darlinghurst Sydney) opens Tuesday 28th February 2012 6-8pm. Your host: Lesley Dimmick.

Cora Eora, a man ahead of his time - one of eight new collages for OUTLOUD and Mardi Gras Festival 2012

My OUTLOUD portrait of Geoff Ostling, world famous 'heavily tattooed man' being subsumed into a painting by X de Medici, who also created many of Geoff's beautiful floral tattoos.

South Hill Gallery, Goulburn - every weekend (including Fridays) until Saturday 11th March 2012 when there will be a closing celebration with directors Linda and Roland Gumbert and all the artists - William Yang, Jim Anderson, Jeffrey Hamilton, John Douglas, Robert Knapman, Mizz Corrie Ancone, Kathy Sport, James Blackwell, Ursula Dutkiewics and Simon Alexander Cook. Images which follow are some of my own.

The Garden Genome. Something to do with DNA. Sinister figurine from Gary Simes collection of erotica

Hope Springs Eternal in the Human Breast, (shattered or not), when help is available from Michaelangelo's David and Tom of Finland.

Picasso (the bouquet), Thurber (reoriented gently towards the homoerotic) & Cocteau brought together for the first time in a confection by Jim Anderson

Manet's Dead Toreador brought to life with a helping thumbs up from Michaelangelo's Sistine Chapel hand. Another in my Quick and the Dead series.

The Long History of Eve & the Apple. Inspired by South Hill's former nunnery. Bottle is Chanel No. 5, Old Testament from Moses, Cigar from Fidel.

The Opening Night of the 2012 Sydney Festival was a magical mystery tour for me, Richard and Chris (Bookmen) - beginning with a French movie at the Art Gallery (1982) showing Picasso at work, thrilling indeed, then a trawl thru the Domain, the Brook Andrews teardrop Caravan (the complete set of them can be seen at Carriageworks) and his huge black and white expressionistic phalluses in Macquarie Street, the bands in Elizabeth Street relayed to Martin Place, (a detour for dinner to The Hero of Waterloo) and so on all the way to Hyde Park, the zigzag light show illuminating St Marys Cathedral as never before, the truly beautiful flashing lights of the avenue of trees from the Archibald Fountain to the Park Street haha and finally the wonderful gypsy reggae music of MANU CHAO relayed from the Domain, which had me dancing with one hand waving free, the light fantastic.

Archibald Fountain - two guys, soaked to the skin after larking in the fountain. One of them had lost his glasses in the water and they had been unable to find them in the dark. I snapped them in mid-discussion as to what to do next. I liked the Churchillian V sign of reassurance that they were OK. More or less. There was a chill breeze beginning to blow.

For those doing it tough as the summer solstice recedes, leaving us wreathed in cloud and rain and cool temperature, and 2012 approaches with rising seas, sun flares, and renegade scientists like poor Mr. Plimer and his fellow deniers John and Janette Howard,

An image for those benighted and beleagured ones who still have faith in the full fairy tale but also for those who would like to enlist St Francis of Assisi's posthumous help in the long-term bid to end the factory farming of our fellow living creatures. We can certainly work towards amelioration of current conditions in abbatoirs and other nodes on the industrialisation of the killing of animals. As J.M.Coetzee says, the transformation of animals into production units is relatively new, dating back only to the late 19th century. Hitler adapted the methods of the 'industrial stockyard' to the slaughter of human beings. That horrifying experience should have told us that, "There is something deeply, even cosmically wrong , about using industrial methods to kill fellow creatures on an industrial scale."

Sculpture In The Sea (as opposed to Sculpture By The Sea, which is of course the inspiration. Good this year, its 15th, now a Sydney institution like the Archibald, and worthy of a small lampoon. What Sydney needs is a permanent movable feast of outdoor sculpture, known in many other countries as a Sculpture Park.

South Hill Gallery, Goulburn - opening afternoon. Celebrated photographer and performer,William Yang's photos were the basis for my preliminary photomontage shown above. William also opened the exhibition in his inimitable fashion. Hosts: Linda and Roland Gumbert, who also introduced. A sunlit occasion with splendid views from my verandah stage, alpacas, peacocks and landscaping. Peter Royle provided the sound system for the dance and speeches. Robert Crumb's Hot Women - Music from the Torrid Zone was the source of the track to which I danced "La Papa Araucana" by Las Quatros Huasas early thirties cabaret music from Chile. 18 peopled stayed afterwards for dinner seated around the banquet table in the gallery's front room. Torres Straits Islands dancing from Adam Hill and Mitch Chatfield (stars of The Didgerido's and Don'ts of Urban Aboriginal Arts) followed by contributions from just about everyone there. More photographs and notes to follow at some future time.

An afternoon in association with my exhibition organised by a group I affectionately label the GGB( Goulburn Gay Blades) A chance to show a variation on some of t he covers for Oz Magazine I had a lot to do with way back in 1969, with embellishments bottom left by Martin Sharp, re-contextualised, but from the same 'Homosexual' issue which appeared in the wake of the Stonewall Revolution in New York.

Michael Kirby kicks off the Festival with a serious but amusingly presented (much flagging and flogging of his recently published Memoirs) with a three parter masterly speech focusssing on (1) the importance of Public School education, (2) Animal Rights (he's now a vegetarian although his long time partner is not) and (3) Gay Equality including Marriage of course. As for being gay, he is saying to all those homophobes out there, get over it. Pictured in the Concert Hall are two friends Richard and Michael.

Lunaflowers - I did not make it into Hyde Park's Sydney Life (part of Art and About Festival this October 2011) with this montage featuring Mr Sun and resident Luna Park artist, AshleyTaylor. The slightly sinister flowers represent the forces of property development always threatening to one day overwhelm the Park.

As I walk between Newtown and Redfern along Lawson and Abercrombie Streets, I see this sign rapidly being worn away by thousands of Sydney University student feet (they all seem to walk on the same side of the two streets, is that because the cafes of Darlington are all on that same side ? A herd instinct, enjoying being packed so closely together ? More sunshine ? Less sunshine ? One less awkward crossing to make ? Anyway, the signs seem to be disappearing long before WARP SPEED has actually arrived.

Sally McInerney, photographer, with Tom at the opening. Tom Carment is an en plein air painter, like no other, of landscapes. He does portraits too.Since the seventies he has shown his works in numerous group and solo exhibitions. "...en plein air painting is sometimes a bit like doing an extended jazz solo. You need to practice, you need to be well prepared and you need to be relaxed. The balance between observation and making a picture should feel natural. Above all, you should know the right time to stop.

Yes, and in the words (paraphrased) of Aldous Huxley Time itself must have a stop ...

You'll get a much better idea of that beautiful painting behind Tom if you go take a look at the Damien Minton Gallery. I have pretty much wrecked it with green and yellow, not to mention blown up and now OUT OF FOCUS. Sorry about that Tom.

While alpacas grazed, a Symposium was being held in one of the grand rooms of Linda and Roland Gumbert's South Hill Gallery. Much was discussed, future plans were envisaged. Chaired by Graeme Jones, (Media Access Australia), the meeting produced high level creative discussions, with invaluable input from Jon Lewis (photographer) Cherry Hood (painter), Nigel Featherstone (writer and journalist), Kon Gouriotis (Director Visual Arts Board, Australia Council for the Arts) Brian Hill (community activist and actor) Roger Foley (aka Ellis D. Fogg) Leigh Bottrell (writer, journalist Goulburn Post). Bill Dorman (sculptor in metal, industrial arts teacher Mulwaree High School) Elizabeth Brown (STARTS), the Gumberts of course, and others like David Rowe, Mia Ching and Elizabeth Charles whom in my usual fashion I have lost track of. Gallery Patron Martin Sharp sent his regrets. I participated to some extent but was also there checking out the Gallery once more for my Tin Sheds exhibition LAMPOON an historical art trajectory which will be re-presented and somewhat rejigged, given a second life, at South Hill - opening on Saturday 22nd October 2011.

Sign in Longreach which is right ON the Tropic. Late July 2011, I stayed in Longreach with my cousin Howard Raven before joining an old folks (more or less) circular tour to Birdsville, Bedourie Boulia and Winton and other points west south and north. Lots of history out there and each of these little towns has a well run museum. Longreach itself has the famous Stockman's Hall of Fame, and the Qantas Museum, both state of the art. For those who like the flat gibber plains, the ancient Waddi trees, the mesas, the artesian oases, easy access to Lake Eyre by small plane, the parallel sand ridges and dunes and the timeless endless desert, there is continuous fascination. Right now it is at its best because of the great Queensland rains of the past few seasons. The ranchers are happy, the cattle are fat, and no doubt, soon on their way to Indonesia, hopefully humanely treated.

Big Yellow sand dune outside of Birdsville which is BELOW the Tropic. The more famous Big Red dune on the next ridge, was inaccessible to our 'tank' with picture windows on account of residue waters on the flood plain below.

We had lunch at Tattersalls Hotel in Winton which is ABOVE the Tropic. Note the guy in the Death Valley cap. It was my birthday and at my relatively advanced age, it had me thinking about MORTALITY and the ever more precarious perch on life that one inevitably has. Winton was the last town (famous for its extensive dinosaur diggings) I visited with Aussie Outback Tours before returning to Longreach which is right ON the Tropic of Capricorn. In winter, way out there in the western desert of Queensland, that means balmy days and cold nights. High season in fact. In summer its way too hot.

Not only BELOW the Tropic, but in South Australia. Lake Eyre, Australia's fabled inland sea (the size of Wales) which three times in the past decade has filled, exchanging salt flats for a film of water. In the south of the lake, it actually gets a metre or two deep in places. In all the years since European occupation, the lake has filled only once or twice before this decade. View from a small plane. not so high but too high to be amid the bird life which has flocked to the lake to feast and breed. We saw hundreds of pelicans but far below. Water is still coming in from the north and the flooding rains earlier this year but evaporation is rapid. The waters of Coopers Creek, the slowest flowing of the rivers, is the only one whose water has yet to empty into the lake.

Lake Eyre another view showing the Warburton Channel which takes water down to South Lake Eyre, and extent of evaporation in the north.

Lake Eyre, heading back to Birdsville through the channel country. Rarely is it so green.

Bill Morley, a well loved and regarded Sydney artist (and DJ) died in 2007. A tribute exhibition was held for him in 2008. This past week (July 2011) curator Robert Lake organised a final exhibition and 'fire sale' of his work, (everything must go) mostly of what is known as his 'black light' period - fluorescent and enamel paints on black paper. Truly mesmeric to stand amongst it.

Jeffrey Stewart (agent for Greentrees resort, Lord Howe Island ) and Robert Lake view one of the several well covered walls, TAP Gallery. Sydney.

It's PRIDE WEEK in Sydney which more or less coincides with the anniversary of the Stonewall Revolution.

which I completed for the annual TAP GALLERY Pride Exhibition this week (June 22). PRIDE and MARDI GRAS exhibitions at Sydney's unique community gallery, TAP, are about the only time I cook up some erotic (if that is the word) imagery. TAP'S Amnesty International and Environmental Prize exhibitions also objects of artistic intention.

This particular Hitler was featured in my LAMPOON show but is included here in honour of the current Luke Roberts exhibition at the Australian Centre for Photography which features some delightfully transgressive photographic imagery. For example, a young Roberts as Nazissus, an older Roberts as a Seig Heiling Andy Warhol juxtaposed with himself as Adolf with a prayerful paint brush where his moustache would be. Luke reminds us that the swastika was around long before the frightful Adolf hijacked it for his nefarious purposes. There's more, much more in this great retrospective show - Pope Alice, perhaps Robert's most famous creation, most recently down here for Catholic Youth Day, is featured in pristine white robes in an immensely flat and wide Alpha(ville) landscape; a photo essay with Richard Bell and in the innermost room, the Virgin Mary (I thnk it's her) getting into some big sexy trouble. What's it all about ? Luke can tell you at length. Perhaps it's all because he's a Raelian and fond of the von Daniken belief that the ancient Nazca Lines in Peru were part of an airstrip used by extraterrestials whom the locals believed to be their gods.

John Peart opens. The Peart painting behind him is from Frank's vast collection. Joe Eisenberg checks the sound.

Roger Foley, (aka LSD Fogg, the iconic sixties and beyond lighting guru) and Francesca Emerson (first black Playboy bunny in the New York Bunny House) get married in a very civil (and beautiful) ceremony in the presence of an elephant and with the assistance of a most entertaining celebrant who was a dead ringer for Newman, Jerry's 'enemy' in Seinfeld. (22nd May 2011 at Adrienne's home on New Beach Road Darling Point )

Francesca and Roger sign the until death do us part (or until we realise we have made a terrible mistake) book, in the presence of a wedding bouquet created by Tracey Deep, and also that of their offspring from previous marriages.

Festive scenes took place in Adrienne's exquisite garden after the formalities. Robyn, Roger, Gretel (also known in a previous incarnation as Madame Lash - check out her recent biography) and Francesca, about to eat one of the delicious canapes circulating. Francesca's previous long time abode was in Selma Alabama of the Civil Rights Bridge Walk and Martin Luther King fame. She also spent a lot of time in the Hollywood world as a film editor.

Roger who has been back and forth from India in recent years, exhibiting his Light Sculptures, attended the Peats Ridge Folk Festival near Sydney this past summer and was enchanted by a walking talking singing elephant duo he saw performing there. He invited them to add an exotic element to the nuptials and they duly did so, charming everyone. I was taken back to the days of the Floating Sun Festival in wonderful Bolinas, northern California, the alternative town where I spent almost twenty years.

LAMPOON - an historical art trajectory Tin Sheds Gallery this past February/March

My exhibition is over. Yesterday 12th March 2011 the final hour on the final day, I gave a floor talk for the crowd - rather a large one for a floor talk - about what was up on the wall - 130 images ranging from Tangier (1965) and Djerba (Tunisia 1967) through London Oz Magazine and Obscenity Conspiracy Trial days (1968-1971) to Bolinas, an alternative town in Northern California (1975-1993) where I developed the art of collage and of ceremonial mask making, thence to Sydney (1993-2011) where the idea for the amusing, satirical and cartoonish LAMPOONS was developed. Also showing are prints with a Mardi Gras (read GAY) theme including the David Hockney lithograph of we three naked editors way back in 1971. Portraits of Sydney celebrities/identities/personalities from the art world take up the long back wall along with a cut and paste panoramic FRIEZE, the result of a short period (2000-2003) as a paparazzo taking photos at art openings, mostly those of artist friends of mine. The floor talk came from an approach from Art Month a newish magazine in the art world which places an emphasis on artist's talks.My friend Electra Foley works there and suggested me as a likely subject. I ended the floor talk with a truncated version, gestures only really, of masked dancing I did for the Floating Sun Festival in Bolinas in the Year of the Monkey,way back in 1980. I had not worn the mask since. Back then I wore it on the beach at the ceremonies, running and dancing about, defining the 'sacred circle' for example, then all the way up to the Festival site thru the town. A very elaborate and grimly beautiful mask with fringes and flowers, but uncomfortable to wear. Hard to believe now I wore it for such a length of time back in those golden neo-pagan, peyote laced days when nothing seemed too difficult or arduous. Now I was a much older sober man recreating in a way, a young man's dance. I was glad not to break an ankle or put my back out. At the gallery even after a few minutes, I just wanted to get the mask off. The Bolinas Museum had kindly shipped it out for the exhibition.

Proof of the cover of a book never published. Copyright problems - it was a compilation of every headline, image and article published in the western world press we could get our hands on. Our carnivalesque approach to the big trail had us dressing as school girls, school boys in short pants and caps, London business men in striped pants and bowler hats, policemen in helmets, and convicts in broad arrow suits.

Wendy Whiteley at Garry Shead's in Bundeena - one of the many portraits in the exhibition

Looks like I am lecturing and maybe I was, but image captur5es a gestural and explanatory moment in my dance, performed on the last day of my Tin Sheds exhibition as a surprise climax to my floor talk. As a much younger man, I first performed this dance in 1981,Year of the Monkey, Bolinas California for the annual Floating Sun Festival. Photo: Louis Plegas.

Late last year my apartment block was repainted in exactly the same colours it was painted before. Stranded all and every day preparing for my retrospective (LAMPOON an historical art trajectory) in February which will be part of the Mardi Gras Festival, I took a series of photographs from my design table. Here are a couple of them for whatever amusement they might bring.

I had a great seat at the concert, courtesy of my brother Lindsay who said it was an early Xmas present. Fantastic present indeed. Leonard's Lullabies (for adults) lulled everyone into a state of bliss. His late period voice is low and growley still much better than Mr Dylan's which is really shot. He skips on and off the stage like a fey sprite, goes down on his knees all the time like swooping bird and gets up again with no apparent effort. At 76 that's quite something. Those mid life eyars in the ashram have set him up for his current mode- prayerful and grateful. The once incendiary lyrics are now part of the wallpaper but they still stirr if not shake and bake. Charles Waterstreet, rakish barrister, noted in his Sunday column that Oliver Stone made use of Cohen's The Future in his chiller masterpiece Natural Born Killers. Yes folks, the future it is murder. And yes again, everybody knows.

Leonard slides to his knees in duet with consumate Barcelona guitarist whose name again escapes me.

Leonard bows, acknowledges genius, his partner and collaborator, one of the back up singers whose name escapes me. I only had my little compact camera with me but i don't mind the soft focus when it is inevitable. Love the one you're with sort of attitude. Remember that old line from the sixties ? Nice.

Everybody nose. One of my favourite Cohen songs. I had forgotten the great Cohen

Sir Anthony Caro's Erl King - a powerful piece of work, making excellent and scary use of a ship's anchor. Robert Klippell (much as I admire you) eat your heart out. An introduction to my night time or rather gloaming tour of this year's show, the best for some time. As critic John McDonald recently noted in Spectrum, Sydney Morning Herald.

South Korean Tae-Guen Yang's Sitting Hen By the time I reached Tamarama Beach at the conclusion of the cliff top sculpture walk it was completely dark with cloud cover above. Still plenty of people around , but the excessive day time crowds were gone. This was an awesome (as my favourite niece would say) piece of work, even more so at night. Are those two eggs I can see in the body of the hen ? Or chook as one would say here if we like to hang on to that now disappearing piece of vernacular.

NZedder Hannah Kidd's the sky is falling. Sort of trashy but fun. Right outside the cafe (well and truly closed) at Tamarama

On a more serious note Japan's Haruyuki Uchida's Intersection. The Japanese are as usual well represented this year with their elegant wo

Girrakool National Park to Wondabyne, a Central Coast bush walk in the rain. More climate change. Bring it on. 24th October 2010

High above the steep section of the trail on the sandstone plateau with its beautiful rock gardens

Shelter from the pervasive rain - above spectacular and deep ravined Piles Creek

Islands in the stream - natural rock gardens with flowering mosses and low chaparral amidst the flat sandstone platforms

On the fire trail above Wondabyne (flag the train down) platform - the drizzle is getting to us

Japanese landscape gardeners are perhaps inspired by islands in the rocks like this.

Jon Lewis, photojournalist, had an October 2010 exhibition PORTRAITS FROM THE EDGE, KIRIBATI: PUTTING A FACE TO CLIMATE CHANGE;

It's a long time since I have spent time in Goulburn apart from the occasional lunch (at the fabled Paragon Cafe and Restaurant in the main street) on the way thru to Canberra, but the opening of Jon's timely and not to be missed exhibition was also a reunion of artists prominent in the days of the Yellow House way back in the seventies. I was in London back then and the fabled Yellow House days are long gone, but I felt I just had to go. Think Martin Sharp (who is also a patron of Roland and Linda Gumbert's expansive and superbly sited South Hill Gallery) Peter Kingston, Ellis D. Fogg (aka Roger Foley), Mike Molloy, Peter Royal...

In the photograph below, that's Jon Lewis on the left. I'll leave you to guess the others. The iconic Martin is splendidly silver bearded, and Peter Kingston wears the green pants. Mr Fogg sports his signature black brimmed hat, black overcoat, Mike is strung with appropriate cameras and Peter Royal in maroon shirt is contemplating the video he is about to make of folksinger Gary Shearston's concert to follow in The Barn, one of the many beautiful old buildings in the South Hill Gallery and Cafe complex which has over arching views of the undulating landscape surrounding Goulburn.

The sands of Kiribati - Boy with Pup - Beru. Kiribati is only 3 metres above the sea even at its highest level and its widely scattered islands are now being much affected by rising sea levels. Current Climate Change is almost certainly our fault; we know what we have done. That's good in the sense that we understand specifically what we have to do to rectify the problems we have created. It's always possible we will go the way of the dinosaurs but that's no excuse not to take care of environmental business

Gary Shearston, legendary 'Aussie Blue' folksinger sings in The Barn at South Hill. It was a cold and drizzly night (too bad for Goulburn's Lilac Festival and Parade next day) but there was a good fire and the audience was well rugged up. We encouraged Gary to sing his heart out. Not only the best of, but new material as well, "I'm breaking the Leadbelly rule - don't sing a new song for an audience unless you have sung it 40 times to yourself." It mattered not. The new songs were terrific. Gary has been a preacherman for much of his life and has always been of a political and philosophical bent. We were not disappointed by his choice of songs. He knows how to fly the Australian character flag too. We could even call him a national treasure. He may have left the church but has not abandoned his spiritual roots. He is in prolific creative mode at the moment.

Julie McGregor and her Wedding Singer after the official ceremonies at Hartfield. Adam and Julie pulled a perfect blue skied summery day out of the hat.

Early plum blossoms at Hartfield wedding. Hill End painter and bon vivant Luke Sciberras shows how it can be done. I didn't get the name of the happy lady.

Barangaroo Protest against Lend Lease, (the blue rat pennants) Paul Keating, Richard Rogers' red cantilevered over the harbour hotel, lack of transparency in the process, pro Cruise Ship Terminal... I rather like the Lord Roger's 'monstrosity' Yes say many, but not at Bangaroo.

Ladies in red, the colour of the day. I said it was Nancy Reagan red only to be corrected.

I think that's Jack Munday under the rat, the last of a distinguished array of speakers, including the Mayor of Leichhardt who made an impassioned plea for the Cruise Ship Terminal be kept at Barangaroo, not at boring White Bay where the local residents don't want it.

NG Gallery Chippendale 1st June 2010. Roger Foley aka Ellis D. Fogg, reveals his Lumino Kinetica in the restaurant below the main showroom.

Late night torch and cabaret singer Edwina Blush serenades the diners acapella with Elemental her joyous ode to life which gets to the heart and bottom of things. And I forgot the soul

Gretel Pinniger (Madam Lash) did not make it to her bio book launch at The Kirk (see below) but she made it here the following night. Fogg and Professor Ross Steel eat up with her

Nicky Ginsberg, Roger Foley and guest towards the end of a rambunctious evening of the very best kind. The food and wine were much to be savoured. Highly recommended 9/10

The legendary Madam Lash was a last second no-show (she had her chauffeur read out her Miss Otis regrets) at the launch of Sam Everingham's book about her illustrious and I suppose, sometimes scandalous life at The Kirk, her art and culture venue on Cleveland on Monday night May 31 2010. Richard Walsh on behalf of Allen & Unwin, launched in most witty fashion the very entertaining - it just rolls along - unauthorised bio to a diverse crowd well lashed with champagne wine and beer, not to mention chicken sandwiches. Gretel Pinniger was there in spirit if not presence in the form of some signature cabaret - an aerialist, two beautifully bare torsoed, (who do they think they are, men ?) gymnastic, balletic and lip locking contemporary dancers, and BoomBoom late of Dharmsala, neighbour of the Dalai Lama who delivered acapella, a sensational and highly emotional I'm just a gigolo. It was one of those nights. On the walls around the carousing crowd were well lit examples of Gretel's paintings in her current 4th dimensional mode. Whatever one thinks of them they looked good and white carat golden under their spotlights.

Below: The engaging Sam Everingham who wrote the book (he also wrote one on Gordon Barton who is well featured in this one too. On his right is the legendary lighting guru Ellis D. Fogg, also known as Roger Foley who had an entertaining affair with Gretel way back in the seventies, and was responsible for the picturesque fog that the girls danced through, but which I have not particularly captured in my photos.

Below: Richard Walsh, one of the wittiest men in town, gave us a perfectly nuanced, off the cuff speech that befitted the carnivalesque atmosphere.

WRITERS FESTIVAL not that I saw much of it. Saturday it was Allan Bennett's most entertaining The Habit of Art rebroadcast from England's National Theatre at the Chauvel which took up most of my day, and Sunday I wimped out because of the big wet. Richard Griffith's take on mega poet and peacenik W H Auden's slovenly habits was hilarious as well as illuminating. I have never taken to Auden much myself for some reason, despite his eminence. Four Weddings and a Funeral is about it for me as far as Auden's poetry is concerned. Inspired by Bennett's scabrous gayish play, I might take a look at the definitive bio of Auden which is around. At least for more of the chain smoking, the martinis and the state of the underwear.

William Dalrymple at the Concert Hall got off to a slow start with his overly long intro and with the Bauls of Bengal much too reduced in numbers and sanitised to really electrify, as they certainly can, and Dalrymple's following talk tended to be too chit chatty for total engagement. The Fakirs were sensationally intense however and sent us out at intermission on a high. After that it was total fun, Hari Das the trance dancer looked like nothing so much as a brightly caparisoned insect trapped on a dinner plate as he wandered around the stage in his mesmerising costume in a vaguely circular trajectory. He had trouble - immersed as he was in his dalit (Untouchable) to God like trajectory - avoiding William Dalrymple's awkwardly placed podium. Someone should have removed that for the dance. William's story of the dignified and high class whore fallen upon harder times who contracted AIDS was rivetting and the crowd forgave him for earlier populist waffle. As for the magnificent singer whom he then introduced as someone who was going to sing songs based on ancient Tamil prayer texts, she brought the house down in her thoroughly modern manner, coming close to rap and recitative, nothing ancient about her. When she brought back the Bauls they delivered the goods this time, as did one of the singers from the Fakirs. It was almost midnight before the show was over. The crowd clapped along and Mr Fogg had to rush away to get the last train home to to the Hazelbrook home. I caught William Dalrymple again on Friday morning at the Sydney Theatre and he was in best form, mostly reading choice excerpts from his many works. It made me want to go to India.

Tony Bilson's Bar One at Circular Quay hosted three nights of poetry. I managed Friday night, which featured first of all eminence grise John Tranter and some tough metaphors, verging on the bitter, which kept me on my toes as well as reaching for my wine; Michael Palmer, honoured guest from the States, was more enigmatic but in total command, knew all about a punch line: Robert Adamson finished it off with prosody and water, hawk, fish and oyster images of the Hawkesbury delivered with Australian gusto. It was hot night in more ways than one.

Bow-tied Master chef Tony Bilson wandered around his many diners with a newly conceived DRIED FISH fan.

It's close to midnight and Robert Adamson brings alive the Hawkesbury with a spirited reading from his New and selected poems THE GOLDEN BIRD

The Ongoing Controversy. An image reversal shows more clearly to what extent Sam Leach meticulously copied the best bits of the Pynacker. Maybe in the reversal that's Cape York and the east coast of Australia revealed.

Downstairs it was a sculpture show, a marriage between Leo Loomans with all his quirks and loose curves and James Rogers, much more vertical and solid, both making use of beautifully waxed black steel. I even thought the huge spidery Rogers sculpture which dominated the gallery was one by Loomans, so it was a successful marriage. It is said that sculptors are hypercritical of their rival sculptors but that was not entirely in evidence at Watters where fellow artisans in three dimension, Ron Robertson-Swann, Michael Buzzacott, Michael Snape and Paul Selwood (and maybe others) were present. Selwood had the best work (a trompe l'oeil 3 dimensional) in the poorly judged Sulman this year.

Moshe Rosenzweig's Head On Photographic Portrait Prize had its opening on Friday night (April 31) at the Australian Centre for Photography in Paddington. It was a zoo, as they say, so crowded they had to relegate the bar to a parking lot under the stars out back. A good move really despite the nasty little plastic stemmed glasses. It was the only relief out there from the overwhelming. Peter Garrett the Minister for the Arts did the launch with a rousing if overlong speech. At art openings you have about five minutes before the drinkers' conversation rises and drowns you out. The 40 finalists were probably the best selection ever even tho there was a tinge of commercial magaziney looking stuff along with the truly deserving. I was in awe. The 150 'semi finalists' were featured on a video screen in the second room and provided fascinating viewing also. Took quite a while to get thru those 150. What a lottery it all is. As the judges must know. Invidious job. William Yang took photographs of the crowd viewing the video. "Too good an opportunity to miss," he said before fleeing the crush. The only names I recognized on the video screen were Suellen Symons and Luke Hardy. Maybe Jon Lewis as well. Needless to say my 3 excellent entries including my glamour acrylic mirrored LED framed shot of Francesca, the first black Playboy bunny in Hugh Hefner's stable, a landmark occurrence in the African Americans' inexorable march towards racial equality, that took place many years ago now, did not make any kind of cut. Francesca spends several months out here each year, visiting with her son. She is still hot. The Portrait Prize, the flagship exhibition of the Moshe and team's Photography Festival, will be on show for some weeks as will the Festival which is taking place all over town at galleries and even private homes. Check out the website for details. Oculi, over at Manly Regional is part of the Festival and well worth checking out - ten years of the best of documentary photography by some of the best known names in town. Curated by Sandy Edwards of Stills Gallery (and generally a curating and organising whizkid)

I had a second look at the exhibition on May 4. Brilliant as the selection up on the walls is, the selection is also a bit solemn, even revealing a bit of self importance - with welcome exceptions of course. (the cabaret scene, one of the winners - how did that escape from the video screen ?) Yes, much more fun and revealing to look at was the small video screen in the second room, HeadOn's very own Salon de Refuses. I (and a couple of other people avidly watching), thought one could take any 40 from the video screen, replace the ones now on the wall, and you would have a much more interesting, less grim show. Life is hard but the dead baby winner? I saw very little of the emotion that the father must have been feeling evident in the photo. How did the judges not notice that? Blinded by the sorrowful situation? Robert McFarlane gave it the Critics Award as well. Maybe it's just that I don't have an eye for the subtle. Anyway, in the Peoples Choice, I certainly voted for one of the few cheerier ones.

One of 3 winning portraits, obviously this one by a nose. The lucky photographer is being interviewed. I will be back this week to have a good look at everything, impossible on the Friday night with all that bullocking to get from A to B..

A second Photography Festival event I attended was at Connie Dietzschold's Dank Street Gallery on Saturday May 1st an excellent way to celebrate May Day as Connie had a performance or HAPPENING (as Performance Art was first known way back when) taking place, a renowned European audial performer, the audio being provided by the Gladwrap he was unspooling as he came down the stairs and then all around the Gallery to the bemusement of the crowd. I wondered if the angst on the performer's face had to do with Angela Merkel's agony as she unwillingly decides she has to bail out Greece , the mega under-performing country in the European Union at the moment with Portugal and Spain not to to mention Ireland about to follow.

Below: Claudia Terstappen and Connie. That's 'Mr. Gladwrap' in the background. He is also performing at the Conservatorium of Music. No mean feat. Claudia's exhibition Fire is part of the Festival. Lots of trees burning, not Black Saturday but poetic moody look at a controlled burn up in the Northern Territory. Photographs of Catherine Cloran and Anthony Amos in the adjoining room are also part of the ubiquitous Photo Festival. All worth a look.

Stephen turns to young autistic school children having a day out with Stephen at the Customs House.

"All our generation has been sacrificed...at the beginning we were deceived by the tinsel of war. Romance dies hard. But we know now.

We've done with fairy tales. There is nothing glorious in war; no good can come of it. It's bloody, utterly bloody."

The exhibition fills the gardens and is more than well worth a visit. The lights go on around 6. Even in daylight these

7 Light Sculptures are spectacular.After dark they are pure LED magic. 6th - 28th February 2010 Web: www.fogg.com.au

Gretel Pinniger (Madame Lash, currently working on her biography) and Bob Green. If you are visiting the Blue Mountains

check out Bob's bric-a brac-shop, Salon d'Ordure. No shit. And you can check out Bob's paintings while you are there.

New Year brought rare, juxtapositions suggested by circumstance. Avatar, Brett Whiteley's re-imagined wall of crucifixions at Lavender Bay,

Nicola and Perry 'realtor to the stars' Press, visiting from London, pressed into artistic service.

I did a series of HAPPY XMAS cards for various members of my extended family as I do every year in fact, but this time inspired by a viewing of AVATAR and being reminded of acid trips I took back in the sixties (and seventies), I indulged myself in Photoshop more than usual. Actual trips to the Botanical Gardens and to Darling Harbour (with its glittering LED tree - see below - ) were also inspiring.

Peter Kingston's Boofhead figurine on the Lavender Bay/Luna Park walkway provided the stem,

an Illawarra Flame Tree petals provided the tutu and Botanical Gdns provided the bamboo temple. eCardDragonsBloodTree2

The Dragon's Blood Tree has suffered a misfortune since I took the photograph upon which this Xmas montage had been created.Soaking rains destabilised the roots and it fell on its side. I was once assured it will be restored to fully functional verticality at some time. In the lengthy meantime and lately in particular it seems to be having a hard time maintaining full moisture uplift through it's malaligned root system. Even horizontal, still worth a look.

Inspiration ? The Darwin installation in Botanical Gardens. See below. Also the fact that my brother,

my sisters and even me, are not getting any younger. I am very glad to be around the vibrant younger generations at Xmas time.

As we oldies eat less and less and more circumspectly (perforce) they eat more and more.There is some sort of rich bloodline immortality provided there.

Speeches, singing, boisterous good times as we urge Wonderful Copenhagen to do the right thing and save the world from Ian Plimer. The 15,00 or so then made their way to the Botanical Gardens . I got there in response to GET UP and AVAAZ

The Rupert 'Bugs' Bunny retrospective at the NSW ART GALLERY well worth a look, particularly when Bunny hopped beyond the pale and languid Belle Epoque ladies who lunched (& ladies in bed) to less pale and more colourful paintings influenced by the Fauves and Gauguin. All quite decadent and la vie boheme really. All that Greek mythology and Orientalism probably hid quite a multitude of 'sins.' Check out his dancing Salome. This was painted at the time of Salomania, with the famous siren and dancer Maud Allan delighting Parisiens, but scandalising the righteous in London with her performances in Oscar Wilde's Salome. She gave private performances for Royalty, the aristocracy and high society. Pemberton Billing a fascistic right wing politician publisher and aviator, wrote in his magazine Vigilante, that she had created a CULT OF THE CLITORIS. She sued him for criminal libel and after a celebrity packed trial, during which the 'moral majority' (who had no idea until the trial what a clitoris was), had a field day, she lost.

All his long life, Rupert was very conscious about the size of his ears. I couldn't resist the joke.

Jason Blake in the Sydney Morning Herald said this production lacks chills and thrills but I did not find that so.I went to the 5pm Sunday show with the theatre packed with what seemed to be Asian school kids having a riotous time when invited to interact with the boys and girls of the Kit Kat Club where a lot of the action takes place. I agree with Benita De Wit (quoted in The Week) that Colleen Cook and Barry French were pitch perfect as landlady Fraulein Schneider and her Jewish paramour Herr Schultz.Their portrayal of love in the twilight of life (and the Weimar Republic in fact) "captivated the audience and their songs met with rapturous applause"

Along with China, India is at the forefront of development of LEDs, (light emitting diodes)

enabling environmentally friendly ever brighter, lighting systems and Roger Foley has been back and forth several times this

year to New Delhi exploring the many possibilities.This year's result is possibly his prettiest and most airily luminous tree yet.

Richard Neville opened the Blackheath Hat Hill Gallery exhibition Heart of the Waratah, on 24th October with re-born fashionista Jenny Kee presenting herself as a 'Waratah Woman'. Oil Stick drawings, 24 of them as richly coloured as Jenny's outfit.. A good year for waratahs. I took a walk the next morning and was able to photograph dozens of them in bush which had been ravaged by fire a couple of years ago. Waratahs like so much of Australia's flora are come-back kids and make use of fire and the ash residues for regeneration purposes. If only the fauna were as quick to recover.

Another of Nicky Ginsberg's successful cultural evenings combining art and fine dining. Mmm. Loved that Provencal seafood stew.

Roger Foley, Luke Sciberras share a laugh. Musician for the night whose name escapes me,sorry about that,looks on.

Legendary Sydney painter Johnny Bell's trousers featured at the Tim Olson opening September 1st 2009, of an exhibition More Than the Desert Reveals

by Hill End artist, Luke Sciberras. Luke has been out and about a bit lately with scenes from Glen Helen, Arttunga from the MacDonnells NT and Flinders Ranges

Julie McGregor on the left, introduced me to Adam, her sculptor partner and to a woman whose name escapes me now but who was

wearing an utterly beautiful dress which I just had to photograph, like Johnny Bell's trousers.

Outside afterwards I spoke briefly with Martin Sharp and long time friend and sometime collaborator, Tim Lewis,

before heading off to the London Hotel on William Street Paddington for late night pizza. Luke was there upstairs as host and a lot of thin crust pizza,

Mick Glasheen in centre looking a bit like Santa Claus these days instead of merely angelic (it's the beard)

with Luke on the way to the London. The name of the guy on the left, as so often happen s these days, escapes me.

The de-robing ceremony for Michelle after a big night out at the Roundhouse, University of NSW earlier in July.

My first time at a Polly's event except for that fabulous old time waltz Xmas party many years ago now

Vivid Sydney Festival, opening night Tuesday May 26. OK if you were up close."Electric Canvas" Of no interest if across the other side of the Quay.

Not far from the MCA elegant in an ungainly unlit vase, are these FLOWERS. Hard to find out from the poorly designed, hard to read, blue type, very small out of black. Really! SMART LIGHT catalogue, but it might be Ghosts of the Rocks by Jon Voss in Cadman Park.

Rainbow Wall outside Billich Gallery near Cadman Park. So hard to read the Catalogue, but work of Mark Hammer

and Andre Kecskes."Not that bloody unicycle guy again," said a spectator of the posing unicyclist.

Bright enough said 60s lighting guru Ellis D. Fogg (he is currently creating best, by far, the yearly Xmas Tree in Sydney,all LED, in Darling Harbour )but

why only two dimensional images on a three dimensional building. It can be custom fitted these days. Brian Eno responsible.