The second album is rarely better than the original

As is the case with this entry. There will be no magnanimous statements. No ultimatums. Probably a little too much self-reflection, and a bit of ego-stroking. Nothing like my first entry. At all.

I came to work today a little tired. This was mainly due to my conscientious efforts on the weekend involving the Cannes Young Lions awards. While I didn't need to, I was in the office on Saturday and Sunday beavering away. Polishing my little foray into the media world.

But to drop the word conscientious is a shade pretentious, as I was hammering out this blog on Saturday. Procrastination I do well. I'm also engaged in the aforementioned right this moment, as one of the other projects I'm working on at the moment is a Master of Writing through Open Universities. I've taken on just one subject for my opening semester, looking to escalate it to two depending on my results for this one.

The subject I've taken is called Real Life Writing and I'm enjoying it. It's good material for easing back into study and not too rigorous or mind-boggling. There's some good, thought-provoking subject matter as well. We have to write 500 words a week on varying topics. One of the weeks we had to write about:

Write a short review of a piece of sculpture you admire. Include a brief reflection on the language you used when writing about the sculpture.

Not knowing much about sculpture, and wanting to dish out props to a very good friend of mine, I chose to write about the work of Michael Gallop. I wrote about his sculpture: Redolent. As per below:

In Redolent we see a microcosm developing. Large bullants jovially feast on spilt sweets with disjointed abandon. Each insect owning a piece of confectionery with little regard for the surrounds or their counterparts. The piece is richly ironic and deserving of its title, as an echidna stalks towards its prey with much of the same recklessness. Encased within spiny armour and safe in the knowledge of where its next meal is coming.

A part of his larger debut exhibition Imbroglio, held at the Latrobe Regional Gallery, Morwell, Michael Gallop’s attention to detail is both intricate and entrancing. Each spine on the echidna is woven across its coat, the insect’s mandibles glower over its unexpected morsels, the paper bag lies crumpled on the ground – all helping to piece together this completely believable scene.

The piece appeals not only due to its extreme reality, but also with its understated sense of humour. The insects are almost resplendent with glee, acutely unaware of what is about to befall them. An ordinarily awkward creature, Gallop captures a moment of splendour, as the echidna majestically paws towards its feast. A esolutely-pointed nose at the ready.

The dimensionality of the piece instils the viewer with wonder. Just as the insects are unwitting, what might ultimately befall us? Who are surely identifying with the moment just as (un)knowingly?

It felt worthwhile and I got good feedback from my tutor.

The entry that I worked on the weekend came out alright too. I find out in a week whether I'm through to the next round. Fingers crossed. I would love the opportunity to stand up and present my idea to a jury of media professionals. That's just how I roll.

Now to crank out 500 words regarding catalogues for this week's topic...