More Art–Last Few Days

MY LIFE—WORK VERSES ART:

The joy of creating over creating wealth

As a child, I enjoyed creating what I see or images in my mind with colour on paper or canvas. I would go into “the creative zone” and spend hours drawing or painting. Once I missed a visit by favourite relatives because I was “in the zone” painting a Central Australian mountain range.

[Painting 1: Mt. Sonder © L.M. Kling (nee Trudinger) Circa 1977]

I remember at eight years old, painting with acrylics at my grandmother’s house. I loved the process of paint gliding and flowing from the brush and how my mountain became a volcano smoke billowing from its mouth and snow gracing its slopes. I was hooked.

[Painting 2: Volcano © L.M. Kling (nee Trudinger) circa 1973]

But, in the 1970’s, with the rise of the status of women in society, the prevailing attitude was that every woman has a right to education, university and a career. The culture of the day was instilled in me that art was merely a hobby. So I never considered doing art as a career. My year eleven teacher cried as I chose Chemistry over Art for my final year. I reasoned I could always pick up art (as a hobby) once I left school.

[Painting 3: Calendar Butterfly © L.M. Kling (nee Trudinger) 1977]

This I did in 1981, my gap year. I joined a local Art Class in Glenelg and Arthur Phillips taught me to paint with precision, like a photograph, layer upon layer, with acrylics. I admired Arthur’s skill and enjoyed the classes that were always filled with laughter.

[Painting 4: Mt. Liebig © L.M. Kling (nee Trudinger) 1981]

However, as a poor university student, I had to give up Art Classes. I thought the Art Club at University would suffice. But it didn’t. The University Art Club at that time, seemed to be more focussed on social activities than getting together to paint.

[Painting 5: One Day in the Barossa © L.M. Kling 2018]

After graduating in 1985 with a Bachelor of Arts (majoring in Japanese and English), and then in 1986 a Graduate Diploma of Education, I entered the teaching profession and in 1987 relocated to Melbourne for my first job. After eighteen months of teaching teenagers, many of whom did not want to learn, coupled with a feeling my life had been hijacked by school, I quit teaching. I then took up a Research Officer position with Fusion Australia, a youth and community organisation that had an office in Murrumbeena, not far from where my husband and I lived.

[Painting 6: Great Ocean Road in pastel © L.M. Kling 2020]

Soon after I began working there, the community centre associated with where I worked, put on a community event—painting a mural with the help of a well-known local artist, Arthur Boyd. He shared his struggles as a professional artist over his career, making ends meet. This conversation opened my mind to the idea that for some (who were good enough) art can be more than a hobby. I now wonder what happened to the mural he helped us paint. The church in which the community centre was housed at Murrumbeena was knocked down and the land developed into a nursing home in the early 1990’s.

[Painting 7: Echo Camp, Mt. Painter Sanctuary © L.M. Kling 1989]

In 1989, my friend from church, organised art classes with artist Geoff Rogers as our teacher. Geoff taught me to loosen up with my paintings—more flow and movement in the scenes of the Flinders Ranges I painted.

At the same time, the local community centre offered art classes which I joined. There I continued my loose-with-palette-knife rendition of the Gammon Ranges’ Bunyip Chasm. The art teacher discouraged me. ‘You can’t do that, it looks awful,’ she said.

Later a friend came up to me as I was painting and remarked, ‘I love it! Can I buy it when you’re finished?’

I decided Geoff Rogers’ style suited me and kept with the loose style. I framed Bunyip Chasm which at the time cost $80 and then offered the painting to my friend for $100.

‘Oh, I can’t afford $100, dear,’ she said, ‘can you make it less?’

I loved my Bunyip Chasm and said, ‘I’m sorry, I can’t lower the price as the frame cost $80.’ To be honest, I was too attached to my painting to part from it.

[Painting 8: Bunyip Chasm © L.M. Kling 1989]

For the next twenty-two years, Bunyip Chasm decorated the walls of the homes we lived in. I gave it as a fiftieth birthday present to my sister-in-law as it was a favourite of hers. I then painted another Bunyip Chasm in the same style, but different, and that sold too.

When my children entered our world, I couldn’t paint—no room in a two-bedroom unit, and even when we progressed to a larger home, life was busy raising a family. So nineteen years passed without touching a brush or canvas. When we returned to Adelaide, with the boys at school, I enquired about art classes, but was told the same story again and again—the classes are fully booked, you’d have to go on a waiting list. There must be a lot of people doing art in Adelaide, I thought.

Then in 2009, I joined a writers’ group. At the same time, the art-bug had bitten, and I began painting with an artist friend from church. I shared how I found it hard to separate from my paintings, they were like my babies. My friend’s husband said, ‘But you need to share your work and bring happiness to others.’

Half-way through the year, a fellow writer invited me to join Marion Art Group (MAG). ‘Just bring along some of your work,’ she said.

Gulp! What if they don’t like my work? But I steeled myself and armed with three recent pieces of art, I went down to the hall where the group was held.

No worries, I was accepted. And by the end of the year, I’d sold my first painting, Cockling at Goolwa, to another MAG member.

[Painting 9: A more recent Cocking at Goolwa (in Pastel) © L.M. Kling 2023]

In my first MAG exhibition at a local shopping centre, I sold my second painting, Brachina Sunrise. Then…nothing sold for two years. Effects of the GST, perhaps. Customers not spending on luxuries like art.

I persevered with painting, attending MAG studio sessions every Monday morning, and exhibiting my work with MAG and with the local Rotary Art Show. Through workshops, videos and practice, I taught myself watercolour painting. The sale-drought made me work through why I paint. I came to the conclusion I paint because I enjoy it and can express the joy and glory of God’s creation. Perhaps that’s why I mostly paint landscapes.

[Painting 10: Sunrise on Brachina Hills © L.M. King 2010]

Then, in 2012, I put my work in another exhibition. This time, I invested in a full screen—I had so many paintings piling up and reasoned if they don’t sell, at least my friends and family can enjoy going down to the shopping centre and looking at them. I came home one afternoon, and the phone message light was flashing. I listened to the recorded message. ‘Congratulations you have sold…’

[Painting 11: Sleeping Beauty over Huon, Tasmania (acrylic) © L.M. Kling—A pastel version is available as an unframed in the basket in this year’s MAG exhibition at Brighton Central]

Hooray! Since then, I have sold paintings—some years more, some years less. I guess at this stage the money made is “hobby money”. And I remind myself, it’s not what I sell, that’s important, but that I enjoy the process of painting…getting in the creative zone. And maybe for others who connect with my paintings, bringing joy into their lives too.

© Lee-Anne Marie Kling 2016; updated 2024

Feature Painting: Wood for fire, Glen Helen, Northern Territory (acrylic) © L.M. Kling 2022

 [Check out more on our Marion Art Group Website: marionartgroup.org, and enjoy…

Or if you are in Adelaide come and see our exhibition at Brighton Central Shopping Centre. We are here until Sunday, October 27.]

OR…

Virtual Travel Opportunity

For the price of a cup of coffee (takeaway, these days),

Click on the link and download your kindle copy of my travel memoirs,

The T-Team with Mr. B: Central Australian Safari 1977

Trekking with the T-Team: Central Australian Safari. (Australia)

Art Break–Story Behind the Muse

Oops! Almost one week into Marion Art Group’s (my art group) exhibition at the local shopping centre, and I have failed to mention it. Been too busy writing, appraising hopeful writer’s works, and transcribing a friend’s biography of her mother who lived through the horrors of World War II. Plus burrowing away in the family history rabbit hole.

I have been pondering where my art genes have come from. No mention of renown artists in my ancestry. My dad was an artist with some potential, emphasis on potential as he channeled his talents more into music than art. My maternal grandfather, Sam Gross was an amazing photographer. But as a missionary pastor in Central Australia, he was discouraged from furthering his photographic endeavours as the mission board frowned on it and said he was spending too much money on camera equipment and film.

So, in light of my predecessor’s unrealised potential and the fact that I am still using the watercolour paints and brushes my dad left behind, I will share an afternoon that we spent painting in Central Australia in 1981.

Mount Hermannsburg

My father and I sat in the dry river bed of the Finke River painting Mt Hermannsburg which towered above the river gums and spinifex. We painted our muse on site; Dad painted in watercolour and I painted in acrylic.

After a couple of hours, Dad packed up his brushes and palette and returned to the town of Hermannsburg. I stayed, in the creative zone, dibbing and dabbing, the setting sun casting shadows over the river bed and a cool breeze pricking me with goose bumps on my bare arms.

I made the final touches as the sun sank below the horizon and I was called in for tea. I signed with my maiden name, naturally, as I was only 18.

Dad’s painting and mine sat side by side on our host’s piano where all who saw, admired our work. I kept walking past and gazing at my painting. Did I really do this? Wow! Did I really?

© Lee-Anne Marie Kling 2016; updated 2024

Mt. Hermannsburg, MacDonnell Ranges Northern Territory, Australia. Painting by Lee-Anne Kling (nee Trudinger) in acrylic 1981. Not for Sale

***

If you are in Adelaide, check us out.

Ready for the Weekend Friday–T-Team next Generation (Uluru 3)

T-Team Next Generation

[Eleven years ago, the T-Team, next generation embarked on their pilgrimage to Central Australia. Purpose: to scatter Dad’s ashes in his beloved Central Australia, in Ormiston Gorge.

Once every month, I will take you on a virtual trip to the Centre and memories of that unforgettable holiday in 2013, with my brother and his family; the T-Team Next Generation.

This time, for the first time in this, my third visit to Uluru, we walked part of the way around the Rock.]

Yet Another Excuse not to Climb the Rock

Wednesday, July 10, 2013

Packing—Anthony was very particular how the car and bags should be packed. He considers himself the master of packing; no one can do packing as good as he can. So, in an effort to get out of some extra work, I decided that since he considers packing his personal gift and calling, I’d allow him to pack while I prepared breakfast. Alas, my plan was not executed as well as expected.

‘Lee-Anne!’ the packing-expert called, ‘Can you come and pack your bags, please.’

It seems I’m the expert when it comes to packing my own bags. So, putting breakfast on hold, I trudged back into the tent to deal with my personal belongings.

[Photo 1: Packing up the tent routine, Mambray Creek © L.M. Kling 2018]

‘Careful not to over-fill the bag,’ came the expert’s warning, ‘you might break the zip.’

He then lifted one of my bags ready to be piled in the car. ‘My goodness! What have you got in here? It weighs a tonne.’

While Anthony grumbled while playing Tetris with our luggage in the Ford station wagon, I resumed preparing breakfast while listening and watching the T-Team pack up camp in a haze of drizzle. Mrs. T barked orders organising her family into an efficient machine of packing and cleaning. Then, executing her sweeping expertise, she swept out the tent, trailer and car.

[Photo 2: Eating breakfast the morning after—Muesli, it’s good for you. Arkaroola Village on our honeymoon © L.M. Kling 1987]

After eating, I trudged to the shared kitchen facilities where I washed the dishes. After three days at Yulara campsite, I had discovered that these facilities offered a communal kettle to boil water. Still, the T-Team had for that time, a more convenient one, courtesy of my brother’s inverter and battery-power.

The thing was, I had to boil the kettle to obtain hot water to wash the dishes. While I waited for the kettle to boil, I chatted to a mum from Sydney whose family were just finishing their holiday.

Back at camp, I helped Anthony pack up the tent.

[Photo 3: Another Prohibition; they’re everywhere! This one found at Kata Tjuta © L.M. Kling 2013]

‘Dad,’ my nephew said in a sing-song voice, ‘can we climb the rock today?’

‘I don’t think so,’ came the mumbled reply, ‘probably won’t; clouds too low, or wet, or something.’

‘Oh, but…’

‘We’re going to walk around the base of the Rock,’ I offered. ‘You could join us, and if it clears up, you might be able to climb the rock.’

‘We’ve had rain, wind, cultural reasons…’ Anthony chipped in, ‘how many more excuses do they have?’

‘Nah, the Rock’s had its chance,’ Mrs T snapped. ‘I reckon we just get going to Alice Springs.’

‘Hmmm, we’ll meet you there, then,’ Anthony said. ‘We’re going to walk around the Rock the other way this morning.’

[Photo 4: Rock approach, but still no climbers © L.M. Kling 2013]

***

However, upon meeting up with the T-Team at the Service Station for fuel, it seems certain T-Lings had changed their parents’ minds. They would be trying one last time to climb Uluru. We agreed to meet them at the entrance to where one starts to climb the Rock.

Upon arrival, Anthony and I trekked up to the gate. The sign read, “Closed due to cloud”.

While we waited for the T-Team, a ranger with a metal panel tucked under his arm, sauntered up to the sign. He unscrewed the “cloud” sign and replaced it with a “high winds” sign.

‘Well, now we know how it’s done,’ I remarked.

Anthony sighed. ‘I guess the T-Team saw that excuse and are on their way to Alice Springs.’

‘I guess so.’

[Photo 5: Sign of disappointment © L.M. Kling 2013]

***

We walked around the “ladies’” part of the Rock. The previous day we had explored the “men’s” section. The cloud cover lifted and the sun emerged, bathing the landscape in a lemony light. Although now dry and sunny, we encountered only the occasional hiker; for most of the trek we were on our own.

We marvelled at the grandeur of the Rock, and the sense of an ancient spiritual presence.

Photo 6: Start of the “Ladies walk” around Uluru base © L.M. Kling 2014
[Photo 7: Natural Dam © L.M. Kling 2013]
[Photo 8: Is that Darth Vader? © L.M. Kling 2013]
[Photo 9: View of Kata Tjuta from walk © L.M. Kling 2013]

After an hour’s walk, we returned to the Rock’s entry point. A small crowd had gathered by the gate. They watched the ranger again fiddling with the notice board.

Anthony shook his head. ‘What excuse this time?’

The ranger placed an “Open” sign on the board and unlocked the gate.

We watched dismayed as the crowd surged through and scampered up the steep incline.

[Photo 10: Open at last! © L.M. Kling 2013]

‘Poor T-Team,’ I said, ‘just as they had given up, the Rock is open for business.’ Using my mobile phone, I snapped a shot of the tourists like ants inching their way up the rocky sides of Uluru. Later, I attempted to share the photo with my niece. But, it seemed my endeavour failed. Anthony had also taken photos with his phone which he then tried to share with the T-Lings. Still no success.

After another failed attempt to send a photo, this time during a stop at Curtain Springs, Anthony muttered, ‘What do you expect from a cheap mobile plan?’ He then extolled the virtues of his Telstra plan.

[to be continued…next, Adventures on way to Alice Springs]

© Lee-Anne Marie Kling 2020; updated 2024

Feature Photo: Like ants they climb up the Rock © L.M. Kling 2013

***

Virtual Travel Opportunity

For the price of a cup of coffee (takeaway, these days),

Click on the link and download your kindle copy of my travel memoirs,

The T-Team with mr. b: Central Australian Safari 1977

Trekking with the T-Team: Central Australian Safari. (Australia)

Second Friday Crime–The Culvert (18a)

Another Life

Morphettville

Dan

Less than half a kilometre down the road from Sven von Erikson, lived Dan. His home was also a former housing trust home. His air-conditioning still hadn’t been fixed. But it was well into autumn and with the constant clement weather, the need to be cool had been postponed until next summer. Dan hoped that the following summer might be mild, and then he could save for a well-earned break and trip to Europe to see his daughters. His son, Leo lived with him in this small three-bedroom abode. He had a yearning to travel to Europe to see his mother and sisters.

*[Photo 1: Zurich, Switzerland © L.M. Kling 2014]

Although Leo had acquired a job filling shelves at the Woolworths grocery store in Glenelg, finally, he balked at his father’s suggestion to pay board. Yet, when it came to enduring the discomfort of summer heat, Leo was the first to whine that Dan, on his modest income, must buy a new air conditioner.

Dan managed to skirt that expense with the promise of a much needed and long-awaited European holiday the following year.

While his son slept soundly after an all-night Dungeons and Dragons (D&D) role-playing session with his mates, Dan yawned and rearranged the pens and papers on his desk. He then spoke to his phone. ‘Call Eloise.’

While his mobile obediently dialed and connected to Eloise’s phone, Dan smoothed the wrinkled edges of his note paper. He had free hands as he was on speaker. He yawned again. He’d been up all-night leafing through the von Erikson and Edwards files. No use sleeping when his son had mates over playing D&D.

He sipped a strong coffee he had bought while taking an early morning walk to local café up the street.

*[Photo 2: Much needed Cappuccino © L.M. Kling 2023]

Eloise’s voice chimed through the mobile’s speaker. ‘Hello, Dan.’

Dan smiled. ‘Hey, Eloise, I have some interesting news for you.’

‘Yes? What have you got for me?’

‘Well, I was going over some old files from way back in 1977-78 and I think they might be connected.’

‘You mean the disappearance of Percy Edwards?’

‘Yes, and the disappearance of Jan von Erikson in 1977.’

‘They were neighbours, right?’

‘Yes, how did you know?’

‘I’ve been talking to Fifi,’ Eloise said. ‘She’s the one who has concerns about what happened to her father. She thinks he was murdered, and his body left up near Mt. Lofty.’

*[Photo 3: Over the creek on hike to Mt. Lofty © C.D. Trudinger circa 1970]

‘U-huh.’

‘How’s this related to von Erikson—Jan did you say?’

‘A year before Percy Edwards went missing, Jan von Erikson walked out on his family. Or so his wife said. No one has seen or heard from him since. It’s like he disappeared off the face of the earth,’ Dan said.

‘He didn’t just up stakes and move interstate?’

‘Perhaps, but the more I looked into the case, the history, the call outs to the house, on several occasions, the more I began to suspect they were not happy campers behind closed doors. Heck, I’ve got school reports here where both Sven and Lillie were repeatedly missing school and for not wearing the proper uniform. And another from the school nurse reporting that Lillie was suffering from malnutrition.’

‘I suspected as much,’ Eloise replied and called out, ‘See, Francis? I was right. She was so skinny it wasn’t normal. School reports.’

‘Okay, love,’ Francis Renard could be heard saying, ‘the detective Delaney is always right.’

‘Where are you?’ Dan asked.

‘Still in bed,’ Eloise said tartly, ‘I’m on holiday, don’t you remember?’

‘Yeah, well, apart from being in bed at 7:30 am, doesn’t sound like it,’ Dan said with a chuckle.

‘When did you get up, detective?’

‘I didn’t; been up all…’

‘Dan! You really need to look after yourself or you’ll get sick…really sick.’

‘I know, I know,’ Dan sighed. ‘But Leo had his friends over and they were playing D&D and I figure, what’s the use. So, I used my time constructively, researching.’

‘Don’t blame me if you end up in hospital.’

He imagined El shaking her head.

‘I won’t.’

‘Anything else relating to those characters?’ Dan asked. ‘Like Percy’s wife—is she still alive?’

‘Nah, I think she’s passed. Fifi mentioned she died about ten years ago from food poisoning,’ El replied.

‘I see, anything else you might find relevant?’

‘Apparently, von Erikson worked for Edwards. It would seem they had a falling out just before von Erikson went missing. Not sure what it was about, but von Erikson had a drinking problem, so Fifi reckoned. What was Edwards’ business exactly?’

‘Not sure, but it made him quite cashed up.’ Dan straightened his pens lining them up on his desk like soldiers. ‘He was into cars. Mostly Fords. Belonged to the Ford club, I believe. I remember that from my youth group days. Mr. Edwards was a member at our church. All us lads admired the newest and latest Ford he and his family turned up to church in.’

‘Okay, so?’

[Photo 4: Not the Newest Ford, but proud and camping © L.M. Kling 2018]

‘The thing is, after his father disappeared, Sven, von Erikson’s son has this Ford. Ford Falcon XB, fresh off the assembly line. I was so envious. But at the same time, I could never figure out how Sven, who came from a poor family, was able to afford such a car.’ Dan drummed his fingers. ‘I remember Sven saying he earnt a lot with the building work he was doing. But I don’t think so. Anyway, there’s some pieces of the puzzle for you to work with, El.’

‘Interesting,’ Eloise replied. ‘Sven has suggested I paint Lillie’s portrait. I’ll see if I can get her to talk.’

Leo called from his bedroom. ‘Dad, can you take me to Woollies on your way to work? I have to be there in fifteen.’

Dan huffed and snapped, ‘Can’t you take a tram?’

‘No, I’ll be late.’

‘Oh, well, fine then,’ Dan muttered, ‘I hope you’ve showered.’

On the other side of the thin wall, Dan heard mumblings and shuffling. Leo had never learnt to drive, and Dan had regretted not forcing the issue. Milo’s unfortunate accident had left its mark.

‘I must go and be “Uber Dad” again,’ he breathed to Eloise, and then ended the call.

© Tessa Trudinger 2024

*Feature Photo: Memories of a hike up Mt. Lofty © C.D. Trudinger circa 1970

***

Sometimes characters spring from real life,

Sometimes real life is stranger than fiction.

Sometimes real life is just real life.

Check out my travel memoirs,

And escape in time and space

To Central Australia.

Click on the links:

The T-Team with Mr. B: Central Australian Safari 1977

Trekking with the T-Team: Central Australian Safari 1981

Or for a greater escape into another world…

Check out my Sci-fi/ dystopian novel,

And click on the link:

The Lost World of the Wends