Absolute Creative Clarity

As I write this, unfolding breaking news is taking place. There has been a mass shooting at Bondi Beach in Sydney. Mum and I have been watching the live news coverage and ten people have now been confirmed dead.

The shooters were targeting Jews who were celebrating the Chanukkah festival. It is such a tragedy, and it’s hard to believe this is happening in Australia. I always thought it was almost impossible to get your hands on guns here, but this highlights the fact that it is possible.

It’s devastating and deeply sad, and I almost feel bad launching into a blog post in the midst of this. But for now, I’m going to move on briefly, and as further information comes in, I’ll make note of it here.

I haven’t posted for a while, and that’s because I’ve been overwhelmed with artistic inspiration. It has felt like a wave of ideas and absolute creative clarity. I know what I want to achieve, and I know how I’m going to achieve it.

I have paintings planned around role reversals between colonial and Aboriginal women forced into pearl diving. I’m working with comparisons between candy and blackbirding in the sugar cane fields of Queensland. I have Barbie dolls turning away from the genocide in Sudan. I have parasites and viruses rendered in neon light for a grant application titled Dancing with Deckard, a tribute to Rick Deckard from Blade Runner.

I’ve been researching, buying materials, and gathering reference images. I’m preparing to enter competitions, apply for grants, and step fully into the role of the emerging conceptual artist I believe I am.

My study, future employment, and volunteer work all pale in comparison to what I have planned during this sudden explosion of ideas and concepts.

I’ve only felt like this once before — after my time at the Downing Centre District Court. I know this electric current of conceptual energy arrived just after I sent my book of oaths to the Chief Justice. It has inspired me in a way only the law and judges can. The first time, that inspiration felt unmanageable — too intense to contain. This time, it feels different. It’s as though I’ve found the smart arm of it all, helping me shape, organise, and bring the ideas together.

Something that helped me along with my creative journey happened last Saturday night. I took Mum to see Oprah at the Adelaide Entertainment Centre.

I remember watching The Oprah Show when I was a kid — usually when I was home sick from school or on holidays. I don’t think I really understood what was going on back then, but I used to watch it with Nanny, and Oprah herself always felt familiar to me. I know now that this is her trademark: she makes everyone feel as though you know her personally, as if she’s speaking directly to you. It’s as though I, along with millions of other viewers, could relate to her on an individual level.

I was very excited to see Oprah. Mum, less so. She told me I should try to find someone else to use her ticket, but I really wanted her to come with me, so I didn’t ask anyone.

We drove to the Entertainment Centre, which was actually my first time ever driving to an event there — and I’ll definitely do it again. There were plenty of parks and it only cost $18, which is far more reasonable than taxis or Ubers. I left much earlier than necessary because I wasn’t sure how difficult parking would be, but we had no trouble at all. It just meant we arrived more than an hour early with nothing much to do.

At the entrance, there were large illuminated letters spelling out Oprah. People were lining up to have their photos taken with it. I took a photo, which you can see below. I also took a photo of two other people posing for their own picture, which I found quite funny.

After we’d had our tickets checked, we walked inside and the first thing we saw was a sign for a VIP function. It immediately reminded me of the meet-and-greet we had earlier this year with Bob Geldof. I imagine a VIP experience with Oprah would be far more expensive and well beyond my price range, but I still took a photo as I paused to wonder what it might be like to meet her.

Mum and I walked around for a while and eventually found some seats where we sat until they opened the auditorium. As soon as it opened, we made our way downstairs and took our seats. We had good seats, not far from the front. Below, you can see the stage lit up in anticipation of Oprah.

If you look closely, you can see a small bunch of white flowers, which I believe are roses. I zoomed in to take a closer look.

It wasn’t a full house, but just before the show started I turned around and took a photo of the people behind us, and it looked like a decent crowd.

The crowd was mostly women. There were some men accompanying their wives and partners, but the majority of the patrons were female. There were also a lot of bigger women, myself included. I can only speculate that this may be because Oprah herself has struggled with her weight and has documented that struggle for the world to see. It’s one of the things people feel they can relate to her through.

The crowd went wild when Melissa Doyle came out. Melissa is an Australian journalist who was there to interview Oprah. When Oprah herself appeared, the crowd completely lost it. Everyone stood up, and I noticed almost everyone was using their phones to take photos. I would have thought that might have been banned, but I was glad to be able to take a few shots. Below, you can see one of Melissa and Oprah hugging before they sat down.

There was a woman standing to the left of the stage, dressed entirely in black. At first, I wasn’t sure who she was, but once Oprah and Mel sat down I quickly realised she was an Auslan interpreter. I thought this was very cool.

I love Braille and Auslan and these forms of communication that facilitate access for blind and Deaf members of the community, ensuring they can have the most interactive experience possible. Below, you can see the Auslan interpreter.

Oprah was just as I remembered her from television. She was relatable, funny, inspirational, and incredibly human. She was also a little bit arrogant, but that feels forgivable given all the good she’s done in the world.

She spoke about her show, but she also spoke about things clearly designed to inspire the audience. She said things like “don’t waste time,” “get on with it,” and “come home to yourself.” At the time, I felt genuinely inspired. In the middle of my own creative rollercoaster, what she was saying felt like a tool — something to help me push through procrastination and self-doubt.

To be honest, I’ve forgotten a lot of the specifics now and can’t quite place them back into context, but Oprah herself remains an inspiration. She came from nothing. She had very little, other than her faith, and that carried her through. She spoke a lot about her life — not in any particular order — just anecdotes and stories that slowly formed a picture.

Below, you can see a close-up of Oprah.

Something that struck me as incredibly special and potent was when Oprah spoke about her childhood. She talked about being told — I think by her parents, or possibly her grandmother — that they didn’t have enough money for Christmas that year, and that she wouldn’t be getting any presents. She described how devastated she felt. Then, at 11:00 pm on Christmas Eve, some nuns and other religious people arrived at their house with presents and food. They saved her Christmas.

Years later, when Oprah had fame and money, she wanted to do for other children what those nuns and religious people had done for her. One Christmas, she organised a team of twenty people to work in South Africa, delivering toys to hundreds of underprivileged children. She became visibly emotional as she described the joy and happiness on the children’s faces.

Oprah also has a school for girls in South Africa, and hearing about it made it clear that she has done an extraordinary amount of good in the world. She truly is a force of nature.

I sat on the edge of my seat for two hours as Mel interviewed her — though, really, it was mostly Oprah talking. I felt inspired, and I felt better for having seen her. Mum was also moved. She told me she was glad she went, and I’m glad I didn’t find a replacement for her ticket.

As we exited the Entertainment Centre, I noticed the red star lit up outside and the way the roof was illuminated in different colours. You can see this below.

Last Tuesday, I gave blood again at the Red Cross Lifeblood Modbury Donor Centre. It was my third donation, and the first time I had donated since my second visit, when I was quite unwell for a couple of days afterwards. Below, you can see the view from the reception desk at the donor centre.

During the pre-donation interview, they checked my heart rate and it was very high. At first, I didn’t think I was going to be able to donate, but the nurse checked it again and I was cleared to go ahead. I donated with no issues. Below, you can see what I saw as I was lying in my comfortable chair.

I hung around for about ten minutes afterwards and had a drink and something to eat. I then bumped into a cheeky little Elf on the Shelf hanging from the door handle of the donor drinks fridge.

I had a busy week working on my artwork, which is going to take a monumental amount of preparation to get right. I also went to my favourite shop, A Trip to the Moon, on The Parade, where I saw these socks that read “Menopause — What the Fuck?” They immediately caught my attention and reminded me of what’s to come.

I hopped across the road to Dillons book shop and was looking for some presents for my brother’s kids when I noticed this section of items in the children’s books area.

I was really surprised by this. Do kids actually find this funny?

Another thing that caught my attention this week was when Mum and I went to the Salvation Army on Magill Road to donate some clothes. There was a decorated Christmas tree set up in the car park.

As I’ve been writing this, I’ve had coverage of the Bondi Beach massacre playing in the background. There have now been twelve people confirmed dead. It’s a senseless loss of life. It’s frightening, and it’s such a terrible, terrible thing.

I’ve been messaging my brother about it on WhatsApp. He said he doesn’t find it surprising and believes that Anthony Albanese and Penny Wong have contributed to a rise in antisemitism in Australia. He also mentioned Tony Burke as someone he believes has contributed to antisemitic rhetoric. I disagreed with him. I don’t share that view.

I watched Albanese give a press conference where a journalist asked whether he believed his government had contributed to the rise in antisemitism, particularly through actions such as recognising Palestine as a state and establishing a body to address Islamophobia alongside one addressing antisemitism. There was also mention of whether he had adequately condemned the October 7 attacks, and I’m not certain about the details of that claim.

What I do believe is this: it is not antisemitic to recognise that Islamophobia is as serious and harmful as antisemitism. It is not antisemitic to recognise Palestine as a state. These positions should not be conflated with hatred toward Jewish people.

Thinking about creative inspiration, I realise that this, too, has stirred something in me artistically. At the same time, I want to be clear: the perpetrators of this crime are despicable terrorists, and I hope the law shows them no mercy. This act of violence is not the fault of the Australian government.

The perpetrators may have believed they were acting in the name of Palestine, but they have achieved the opposite. They have caused immense harm and suffering, and in doing so they risk making anyone who supports Palestinian rights appear complicit in violence — which is profoundly unjust.

I do think the antisemitism we are seeing right now is different from its traditional forms, and that it is being inflamed by Israel’s actions in Gaza. But responding to violence with terrorism is just as wrong — if not worse. You cannot argue “don’t kill” while committing murder yourself. In doing so, you become the very thing you claim to oppose.