Escher x nendo - Between 2 Worlds

The first time I ever came across Escher’s work was in the year 2000, in a high school visual art class when we learnt about the surrealists and that was it, from then on I have love love loved that flavour of artwork. It’s nonsense made perfect sense to me.

The Surrealists began as a reaction against the world wars – if rational thinking has created a society that went to war then the irrational shall be our salvation – makes sense to me!

And in the white dominant society we live in today i feel this still is ever so relevant unfortunately for the billions of people suffering in war, massacre, famine, racism, homophobia, colonisation, classism, sexism, animals that face extinction and our mother earth that will wipe us all out due to climate change while morons in ‘power’ say they don’t believe and continue to fund coal, fossil fuels and corruption.

The irrational does seem to make perfect sense!

Escher x nendo

The sculptures of nendo’s house symbol repeated in various formats throughout the gallery and it allowed me to experience the physical reality of Escher's world as we walked through the exhibition, it was a magnificent combination and the curators of the show have done a truly wonderful job – amazible.

That said I did get to the foyer post exhibit as we exited through the gift shop and I just stood there in the centre of the museum as all the posh folk milled about Design Week with their overpriced drinks. Perhaps it was the weight of three floors of “Art" history above me, whatever it was I just stood there bewildered and cried, it all felt like elitist art wank, oh dear.

I took myself outside and sat by the fountain and cried some more, my beloved making the observation that it seemed like I was having an existential crisis. Oh godds I was.

Here I am 2 days into a classical painting workshop and now i'm standing in Melbourne's fanciest gallery and i'm crying because its all bullshit but it's what I have dedicated my life to and I am now feeling thoroughly overwhelmed and lost, what the hell am I even doing here?

What the hell am I doing

A – even calling myself an artist – who do I think I am


B – why the floof would I even want to strive for this space anyway – it's all a bunch of elitist wank so far removed from the truth that art has revealed to me over the years which is that it is actually about love as in heArt, it belongs to EVERYONE and EVERYONE is a magical creative artist being by matter of birthright as evidenced by every child who picks up a crayon and expresses themselves. Art is for healing and self-expression not this exclusionary, art wankery bullshit High Art snobbery, godds it makes me feel vile.

Now let's be clear - One day in 20 years when the NGV contacts me and wants a retrospective of my dazzling arts career I won't turn them down ha ha but neither will I hold this “A” art on a pedestal and then judge my art as less than.

Art is subjective and the most important thing I can do is just express this primal yearning within to create, come what may.

Am I crying because I feel this yearning for abundant eccentric free creative expression but feel stifled by my own inner blocks … probably

Perhaps it’s the abandoned child self, afraid of rejection so she instead rejects first because they are afraid.

Perhaps I am mostly afraid because my fraud police are so loud and the inner critic is so mean and all she ever trumpets on about is “not good enough’ – tiring and boring!

Perhaps I truly do want to have a show in a fancy gallery, perhaps I do want to be ’good enough,” I do want “to be seen” to have someone say “You didn’t waste your life, you’re good enough," Perhaps I feel guilty that a part of me wants this ‘success’. Perhaps instead I need to say this to myself rather than giving all my power away to the establishment.

Perhaps it’s not the place of the artist to ever understand the gallery or art world. If I understood it i'd be in administration, a curator, an art historian or heaven forbid an art critic, instead I am the creator, the maker and how many tales have we heard of them never being understood in their time… Countless tales.

Perhaps being faced with this classical painting workshop and the contrast of my self taught art is pushing every button and standing at the centre of this gallery and feeling 500 plus years of art that has been made, bought, sold, stolen, criticised is just too much when you’re a bit of a tired, sensitive poppet and your bubble has worn out after a long day of painting!

Whatever the hell is going on - Thank you Escher, I look forward to warping worlds, flipping life on its head and expressing my inner world as fluently as you one day.

Let's Tessellate <3

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