Scriffles: To Do Before December 20 list.

Bake cheesecake.

Clean.

Bake gingerbread.

Catch up with A.

Give presents to B.

Ring C.

Email D.

Dentist.

 

(DO YOU SEE A TIGER OR A BIRD HERE?)

Take mum to Mooloolaba to see brother and his kids - and swim at the beach.

Wrap Christmas pressies.

See Where the Wild Things Are.

Finish listening to mediation CD.

Exercise daily.

Turn air-con on or nothing will get done today.

Oh yeah! Publish book.

(YOU SHOULD BE ABLE TO SEE BOTH A TIGER AND A BIRD!)

Scriffles: Fiona Foley's River of Corn. Or as kids like to call it: The Popcorn Room.

Sydney's Museum of Modern Art has a show by Australian artist Fiona Foley on until January 31. 
Her River of  Corn is real neat. I don't normally use the word neat but its the first word that pops to mind and its wholesome enough to describe the installation.  Children adore it. They browse the large photos feeling corn - yes, corn - between their toes. There's a foot of corn kernels covering the entire floor of the small gallery room. She created the installation for the University of South Florida's Contemporary Art Museum, exhibition Dreamtime, Our Time: The Eternal Circle.
She happened to be at the gallery when we visited so I asked her why. Corn is the staple diet of the native people she photographed in this particular region of the United States. The photos are of herself wearing native American dress. 
The corn also gives viewers the experience of walking through the swamps of the area - and yes, she's aware that this extra dimension makes it a great favourite with children.

 

 

One you've missed unfortunately is the Primavera 2009: Exhibition by Young Australian Artists. I say unfortunately because this exhibition contained another wonderful installation piece by Michaela Gleave called The Raining Room.
It's a darkened room made of timber and plasterboard. And inside is what appears at first to be a projection of rain falling - like rain falling outside a window at night. Except it's not a projection of an image. It's a projection of light through a slit in the wall that catches upon water falling in dribbles from above.  It's a statement about how precious such a simple thing like rain is - and how we're losing it. On the other side of the curtain of rain is an empty space. You can jump through the rain into this space. 
This installation really is precious. In a darkened plasterboard box in the MCA you ponder the beauty of rain and delight in running through it.