text: Friday, 16 August 2013
  
  I painted this self-portrait last week, I always work quickly and I completed the painting over two sittings. I love the viscous texture and buttery warmth
  of the paint, my hand free and working fast.
  
  I have shown myself here for the
  first time with my birthmark on display. Perhaps it is for the choreography of colour
  that I find this painting so worthy of thought and discussion. This is where the
  truth becomes fantastical, where a cluster of blood cells, raised in passionate
  formations on my face becomes worthy of storytelling.
  
  Sometimes it takes courage to paint the truth and even more to explain yourself. I am glad that I can do that now. I feel like I am reaching a new point in my practice, moving on to some bigger and better stuff.
  
  Sunday, 11 August 2013
  
  Casper: You love being scared and reading about wolves and beasts and wild things, sometimes I think you want to become a wild thing yourself. You used to say "I'm not a boy. I'm Casper the ghost." I can't wait to introduce you to Dario Argento.
  
  Saturday, 3 August 2013
  
  Casper: Today you helped me take my work home from the gallery and fell asleep in your pram on the walk through the Swanston Street icy wind-tunnel. Then you woke up with an angry fever and wanted to cuddle all afternoon. Cousin Sammy came over and cuddled you too. We read you Mickey in the Night Kitchen and you fell straight into bed, cake-free and dried.