Sawtell

Error message

Deprecated function: The each() function is deprecated. This message will be suppressed on further calls in _menu_load_objects() (line 579 of /var/www/drupal-7.x/includes/menu.inc).

Creative changes abound at the Sawtell Art Gallery

Published by Anonymous (not verified) on Fri, 26/03/2021 - 12:08am in

Tags 

Sawtell

Sawtell Art Gallery Secretary Alison Bird and President Pene Charles.

 

SAWTELL Art Gallery is looking ahead to an exciting year of new creativity with the appointment of Jasmine Winter as head of Social Media.

Speaking after the gallery’s AGM on Monday night, March 15, re-elected President, Pene Charles commented, “Jasmine is full of enthusiasm and zeal and is exactly the kind of person we need to build and promote the gallery’s profile.

“She’s young and has the digital skills to embrace the internet in ways that we haven’t so far.”

Working with Pene and re-elected Secretary Alison Bird and the committee, Jasmine’s brief is to build sustainability into the gallery’s future.

“Jasmine is one of those people where nothing’s too much trouble.

She’s got the energy and verve to grow the whole offer of classes, workshops, exhibitions and how we can work more with the local community”, said Pene.

Jasmine has been working with the gallery as a tutor since early 2020 and has taken over the Kids Class.

“She’s done such a great job we now have the demand to start a new class for the kids,” said Pene.

Her first workshop was also a huge success.

Focussing on creating art from ‘found materials’ she guided the youngsters through the process of reworking recycled and rubbished items to create works of art.

 

By Andrea FERRARI

I'm on Holiday!

Published by Matthew Davidson on Tue, 02/02/2021 - 6:57pm in

Today was a day off from work after five long, tiresome days in a row. Slept in till 10am and skipped breakfast so that I could justify the indulgence of a pizza picnic down at Bogan Bay.

So, on my day off I walked back up to work and bought a five dollar cheese-smothered flatbread and a six dollar bottle of bubbly. I was planning on a five dollar bottle of red, but this is the kind of wild extravagance I'm now allowing myself.

You see, I'm on holiday.

I had an epiphany last week (sitting down; I always sit down when I'm having an epiphany as it's less potentially messy than standing up). I don't need to live in this awful place any more.

I have enough savings to get me back to Sydney. There is nothing I have here that I can't get in Sydney, and plenty there that I can't get here. Yes, the latter includes Covid, but Covid is going to be with us for another couple of years (at least - on and off), and while it's nice to have the luxury of not having to wear a mask, and feeling free to cough without burying your face in your armpit, it's not worth the rest of what living in Reejnal Straya entails.

I don't want any of this. I don't want to trudge to and from my part-time near-minimum wage job over pedestrian-de-optimimised terrain in permanently mouldy safety shoes and mud-spattered trousers. I don't want to deal with squat, stout old men, who wear shorts and thongs all the way through winter as a declaration of cultural identity, and greet me with a toothless grin and "G'day, big fella!" before asking where the eggs are (aisle 11).

I don't want to feel I have to sleep with a kitchen knife by my bed when one of my neighbours who has been simmering for a while seems to be approaching boiling point. I don't want to have police in body armour, bristing with holsters containing implements of varying lethality wandering up and down the landing outside my flat/cell.

I don't even want the things that I could get here if I had a socially-inclusive wage. I'm a Dickensian street urchin pressing my nose against the shop window and being slightly revolted by what's inside.

In the dying days of my marriage, my wife insisted on taking me and our joint credit card out for a weekly "date night", at one or another restaurant in Sawtell. This consisted of her buying the most expensive cocktails on the menu and I gingerly sipping the cheapest beer on the menu, while she gleefully recounted all the personal failings of, and wrongs done to her by, people most of whom I'd never heard of. Then the vodka would kick in, the snarl would settle on her pretty face, and she'd move on to the main menu of my own inadequacies. Not wanting to Make A Scene, I just just sat there and took the abuse and wondered "How is this fun for you?"

On the rare occasions I walk down First Avenue of an evening I can't see how the majority of the conversations in the self-consciously funky cafes and restaurants are any less mean and rancorous. It's some consolation, however, to know how many of the local restauranteurs buy their exotic and expensive delicacies in kilo bags from the frozen department of the local supermarket.

Anyway, that sort of negativity is now a thing of the past. I will be out of here at some point in 2021. I can do it at any time. It would be nice beforehand to get some ducks in a row, peas in a pod, pecks in a bushel, etc., but none of that is strictly necessary.

So that frees me up to look at this place anew, as someone with no skin in the game. I'm just passing through, on a working holiday. Maybe Sawtell will again, as it did in 2004, appear charming.

Comment

Nature is ghastly and has to go

Published by Matthew Davidson on Fri, 15/07/2016 - 5:34pm in

I had to consult the local GP co-operative multiplex today, and as it was bloody cold indoors (defined hereabouts as anything below 20℃), and I had a teensy hangover, I resolved to set off early and have a restorative picnic lunch of fried chicken at Bogan Bay before my appointment. I set up camp at a picnic shelter, opened my laptop with a view to pursuing my lower higher education over lunch, and tentatively nibbled on a soggy chip. Almost immediately I was joined by a magpie.

Magpies are quite intelligent birds. I had been in this situation before, and I'm sure the magpie had been in this situation before. I therefore reasoned that repetition of some terse, likely recognisable phrases ("bugger off!", etc.) would clarify my position vis-à-vis the magpie's implied food redistribution proposal. The magpie remained unconvinced, so I began waving my hat at it, and then chasing it round and round the picnic shelter, until finally it perched on the barbecue in the middle of the shelter and made a great show of minding it's own business. Satisfied, I returned to my study and my junk food. The magpie began loudly warbling.

Soon I was surrounded by half a dozen magpies making menacing advances. I am not easily riled, but I have to say that being thus unfairly outnumbered I was positively livid. I began remonstrating with this gang in no uncertain terms, waving my hands about for emphasis. Which is how a nearby kookaburra, evidently watching proceedings with interest, came to see it's opportunity. It swooped into the now crowded picnic shelter, plucked the greasy piece of fried chicken from my hand, and sailed upward into the treetops to savour it's prize.

I like cities. I like slate paving stones, generous blocks of sandstone and granite, the odd bit of marble, and some concrete and glass if you must. I like street corners that have crossing lights, socialists, scientologists, and schizophrenics. I like wildlife — well, pigeons and rats — to be suitably circumspect and skittish when going about their business. The sooner we get this place comprehensively paved and fitted out with newsagents, railway stations, pubs, banks, dirty book shops, and cheerfully cheap asian eateries with plastic furniture, the better.

Thursday, 3 September 2015 - 11:35pm

Published by Matthew Davidson on Thu, 03/09/2015 - 11:35pm in

One thing about living in Sawtell that gives me the warm fuzzies: When walking along the side of the road, drivers will occasionally stop and ask for directions. Of course this happens everywhere, at least in my experience. (Perhaps I'm just irresistibly attractive and approachable.) But in Sawtell, the driver who pulls up next to you is more likely to ask where you're going and offer you a lift.

Back Seat