Dennis Hollingsworth

Acts of G-d

When we were at my cousin's place in K?ln, I assumed that she would have an internet connection, but she was too new there to have one installed. I was bummed but I reasoned that being offline might be a good thing afterall. A break from mainlining data 24/7.

One evening, I flipped open the laptop and pulled down the wireless menu and lo! I was able to piggyback on someone's system! The connection was fragile and for reasons too technical for me to comprehend, I could only sustain a connection for ten minutes a day.

One of those days, I checked the news and I noted an earthquake of eight point something in the Antartic. Strange. A day or so later another, bigger quake in Sumatra... three hundred killed, the report said. I knew that the figures would likely go up, terrible news.

When I was a kid sailor, my ship would cruise through the Singapore Straits. I remember looking for Krakatoa, hoping to see it topside. We were headed for Sri Lanka. Columbo -a strange place, too hard in this short space to describe why. Elephants on ankle chains and expansive beaches enfronted with crumbling colonial architecture. Then to Karachi, Pakistan. We called it "Crotch-Rot" in the charming manner of swabbie culture. I remember fording the cabbies clamoring for fares as we jumped onto the pier. I dimly remember a corpse in a ditch, the police hurried us past and into the city. That night I ate bar-b-que chicken, wondering if it were wise to do so... and ignoring the taunts of the salty dogs to seek the comfort of prostitutes there to mark my manhood... knowing for certain that it was wise not to do so.

I enjoyed a couple of memorable dives at the Seychelle Islands while on a liberty port of call. The cabbie was a freak, rubbing his stickshift in a rude way to rasta music (the music was great but spoilt by all that freakin' goin' on). I remember Swiss tourists with us on the dive, a distinctive bunch. Good looking, quiet. I remember that the sea there had a reputation to be the habitat of sea snakes. I would always look for them over the side. Exotic, dangerous. There werem't enough tanks so I volunteered to snorkel above as my buddies combed the bottom, maybe 25 to 30 below. After a while, I kicked down and tapped for air. I went to another and tapped for more. It was such a feeling, swimming so unencumbered, bumming air from everyone. Such freedom. Finally, I surfaced and as I spun upward with the bubbles, my chest heaved up. I looked up and a huge volume escaped my mouth. Foolish -yes, to not have kept gas compression in mind. A great day that was.

It took an act of G-d to dwarf the War on Terror in the news. What a terrible price to pay for perspective. The casualty figures are surpassing a hundred thousand. It strains the imagination.

This blog is not designed to traffic the topical news, too many do it so much better than I can. My intentions were to narrowcast and center this blog on painting. Life intrudes and what may seem tangential has some bearing (in my estimation) on the internal life of the studio: the people I meet, the changing circumstances of our lives, information I find stimulating on the web. I even leave the art world news to others. It would be diverting to become another art world blogger-correspondent... even though I had entertained the idea in the beginning of this blogadventure but finally, it would have been diverting.

As the year turns and we reflect for a moment on the past, with wary anticipation... we count our blessings.

G-dspeed to us, to all of you.

Happy New Year.