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Showing posts from January, 2015

a 'drop in the ocean'

The surf has been crap for weeks - either a ridiculous holiday crowd on the rare shifty wave inside the point or blowing it's guts out onshore slop further around the bay where I like to get away from everyone. But I've decided to make the most of my daily pilgimage to the beach by doing a 200 metre walk to the inlet and back to get some exercise and pick up rubbish. 
I started out furtively a few months ago - feeling like the local pariah, after all, it's only the dregs of society that handle other people's shit no matter how many brownies (of beer) you give your nice garbo for Christmas. But then I decided to make myself very visible, because I wanted people to see that someone cared enough to do something about the degradation. This issue has reached epidemic proportions - recently images of plankton that have ingested plastic have been posted on Facebook.
I can't be angry at those who walk past me empty-handed and stare blankly - after all, that is what I have…

respect and the ‘right’ to speak

Lately events in my small universe and the world at large have prompted me to question the value of our much lauded democratic right to ‘say what we fucking like’. Years ago I would have defended that right to the death. Now I wouldn’t. Simply because, as a child of a democracy, I must defend everyone’s rights equally, and not every opinion is equal in its worth.
Facebook has been the catalyst. In its anonymity and remoteness from real world consequence it is a mecca for the opinionated and disrespectful. As a result I have recently withdrawn from several conversations, pages and a group.
The first incident was brought about by a comment I made regarding the acknowledgement of an artist’s work on a UK digital magazine’s FB page. I guess I could have been a bit less confrontational, but this magazine purported to be a ‘professional’ organisation and, as an artist, intellectual property infringements make my blood boil. The conversation went as follows: ‪
Michelle Frantom: I think your mag…


'Me and the Shark', watercolour and pencil on paper
As I counted heads at my overcrowded local surf break - bemoaning the holiday season - I said to myself: 'all it would take is one shark'. Of course I only meant a sighting at my own beach, not the fatal attack 100+ kms east. Nevertheless it seems to have done the trick - the day after there were many less holiday-makers in the water. Only the statisticians, deluded or fatalistic persisted (including myself). Even the day after numbers were well down and I enjoyed the best offshore surf for weeks. However, my joy was a little dampened by my own mean-spiritedness and I felt a bit guilty - but I am not God and I didn't create that tragic event.
The drop in numbers again yesterday might have had something to do with a reported sighting of a big Great White 80 kms west (at another coastal holiday spot). Apparently there were 3 sighted - but I suspect a bit of narrative hyperbole is creeping in here. When I was living…