catsparx

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Spent a pleasant and leisurely afternoon in Kiama visiting Alan & Halinka. Kiama is about half an hour's drive south of Wollongong, utterly gorgeous and somewhere we have never bothered to visit up until now. It's best known for it's blowhole, quite literally a tourist trap as several idiotic foreigners have jumped into it with deadly consequences over the years.

Rob, Alan and Halinka on the back deck eating delicious gluten-free chocolate and orange cake.

San Jose was the third World Fantasy Convention I’ve attended and by far my favourite. Not sure why exactly, but at a guess I’d say it’s because I’ve finally gotten over the bunny in the headlights factor. I feel that I fit in. Like I’m part of the circus instead of just a misdirected tourist or a fortunate bystander. I’ve learnt that you don’t have to be a big time player to deserve a ringside seat. Or something. Of course, my sense of entitlement probably owes much to the generous behaviour of my traveling companions Garth Nix, Jonathan Strahan, Sean Williams and Deb Biancotti, and other good folks I’ve made friends with along the way.

It’s been a difficult year so I went to WFC expressly to cheer up and have fun. To soak up the vibe and to be with my people. To look the industry square in the face and ponder the significance of my own participation. I need ponder no longer. I know where I belong. I returned home content, with nothing to prove, yet everything to aspire to.

Full marks to Garth Nix, WFC guest of honour and Australian ambassador of awesome. He spent what I suspect amounts to thousands of dollars shouting drinks and picking up the dinner checks for his friends and colleagues, never missing a beat when it came to introductions and the opportunity to facilitate a connection or talk up the talents one of his countrymen. Garth is the truest kind of gentleman, sharing what he refers to as his 'good fortune', never succumbing to the temptation of self aggrandisation, transcending all such pathetic pantomimes by sheer force of style.

Sir, I raise a sea breeze* in your honour! May all your future novels be best sellers.

Entire WFC 2009 photo set here

*official drink of Australian spec fic writers abroad

Garth Nix took a bunch of us out to dinner in the Fairmont hotel grill the other night. I completely scored by being seated next to Peter Straub, one of my favourite authors and we got on like a house on fire. What an utterly adorable man.

I'm sitting in the hotel bar with the last of the Aussie attendees, waiting for a limmo to take us to the airport. I missed out on seeing the Star Trek exhibit that's showing in the museum across the road but we've all just ordered food off the Star Trek Menu. I've just ordered a photon burger. Paula Guran, Mary Robinette Kowall and Doug Cohen are sitting with us. Paula is sharing drinking stories and singing the praises of Graham Joyce and Michael Marshall. John Joseph Adams and his buddies were hanging with us too -- they managed to see the Star Trek exhibit before it closed for the afternoon... D'oh!

This was my third WFC and the best one yet.

So here I am in the Fairmont hotel bar sitting with Anna Tambour, Jonathan Strahan, Deb Biancotti, Danel Olson and, as Jonathan puts it, we're within vigorous spitting distance of Sean Williams who's in a meeting with his agent. Sean, Deb and I have just returned from a visit to the Winchester Mystery House, a whacking great mansion that apparently took 38 years to build. Sadly, we didn't encounter a single ghostly presence, however Deb, Graham Joyce and I did manage to interface accidentally with the occult yesterday when we went to have a squiz at the nearby Rosicrucian temple.

We got there just before 12 when a ritual was scheduled to begin & were invited to participate!
I found it quite a peaceful experience but Graham insisted a dark presence was lurking behind in the periphery at the edge of the light...
Here are some of my WFC photos, as yet unculled and unlabeled. I was planning to write a more informative blog post but it's really noisy in the bar and interesting folks keep rocking up to chat so I think I'll chuck in the towl and just leave you with a piccy.

Having a ripper time. Wish you were here...

... is underway right now in the Presidential suite, Fairmont Hotel, World Fantasy Convention.

your friendly bar staff Cat, Deb, Kirstyn, Sean, Jonathan, Garth, Jason & Liz

Here's the link to the entire set of Dad's exhibition photos. The photos don't give much of a sense of scale -- Artarmon galleries -- Sydney's oldest art gallery, I believe, features three rooms, all of which were utterly packed. Hundreds of people turned up for the opening, including three staff members from the Royal North Shore hospital. A nurse from Grenwich hospital -- a Japanese woman who Dad had gotten on with particularly well, sent him an enormous bunch of flowers.

My photos are not properly labeled. I need Dad online with me to accomplish that task and that's not going to happen for a couple of weeks at least.

Rob noticed that a couple of Dad's paintings feature ghosts! He's pointing to a yellow figure whose head is most definitely transparent

Here is the text of my opening speech:

On the 2nd of June my father experienced the kind of horrific incident usually safely contained within the realm of television programming and other fictional landscapes.

The assault saw Dad hospitalized for several long, uncomfortable months while the arduous process of mending his body and bringing his mind back online ran its course.

I’d like to thank the North Sydney police, Royal North Shore hospital, The Mayor of North Sydney, Grenwich hospital, and those friends, neighbours and family members who played an active part in his recovery, all working together to make Dad himself again.

Every visit made a difference. Every phone call. Every card. Every gesture of kindness, no matter how small: the neighbours who cleaned up broken glass on the porch, left food on the doorstep, stopped in to see how Mum was coping at home.

Mum was with him every single day, trekking between Waverton and St Leonards, hoping each visit would show a slight improvement on the last. My sister Rachael flew out from the UK to sit at his bedside for a week in the ICU, positive he knew she was there, despite his largely unresponsive state. 

For those who complain about the burden and inconvenience of taxation… this is one of the things our money goes to pay for - a miracle.

Our American friends should take note. We are lucky enough to live in a country where an ordinary person – not a monarch or a politician or a movie star – can receive such an extraordinary level of specialist medical care simply because he needs it.

Thank you to the Brackenriggs for encouraging Dad to go ahead with this exhibition. A special thanks is due to longtime family friend Danny Pata for cleaning up Dad’s studio, arranging the framing of his paintings and for sitting with us in the hospital café on that first long and terrible night.

The works you see on the wall today were mostly painted in the last 10 years although the sketches they’re based on range across several decades. The South of France, New Mexico, Hobart and Lane Cove – Dad says he can go anywhere with his sketch book and return with something useful -- drawings which may later become more substantial paintings.

‘Drawing selects from what one sees. Mechanical aids are not needed for one uses what one has got’

Thank you for coming along today to help us celebrate our miracle. I hope you enjoy my father’s paintings.







Heather & Mum

I'll put up the rest of the photos on Flickr tomorrow

article from The Daily Telegraph

Artist a picture of courage after brutal bashing
By Elizabeth Fortescue

When Cameron Sparks suffered grievous injuries in an alleged attack at his Waverton home in June, his family were sure the artist would die.

News of the event, which is before the courts, saddened people throughout the North Sydney area where Sparks is well-known for his dedication to art and his passion for history and bushcare.

Sparks, 79, has made a miraculous recovery and tomorrow he will attend Artarmon Galleries where his daughter, writer and photographer Catriona Sparks, will open a show of his work.

He has resumed his daily outings by foot and train and last Saturday he returned to the Old Vienna Coffee House in the Queen Victoria Building where he would sit and draw. He was greeted with open arms by the staff.

"I haven't seen them for six, five months," Sparks said. "When it happened to me somebody told them and they promptly sent me a card."

The artist refuses to be bitter.

"I don't want my life affected by the bad story. The good story is much, much richer," he said.

Following news of the alleged attack, a stranger came to the house and handed Sparks' wife Betty a sketchbook. Sparks had lost it in Casula after collapsing with sunstroke in 2008. The sketchbook contained his address.

"He (the stranger) said 'The sketches looked all right so I thought they should be returned'. Then he went away. Most people haven't got a clue about visual art but that's a beautiful story," he said.

Sparks cannot remember the events of June 2 or the month which followed.

He said his family had been "steadfast" when he spent about four months in hospital and rehabilitation. His most recent operation, three weeks ago, removed two of his toes and a skin graft was taken from his hip. Doctors have ruled out brain damage.

"There will be on-going issues but the worst of it is over," Catriona said. His other daughter, archaeologist Dr Rachael Sparks, has flown to Sydney twice to visit her father.

A 41-year-old man has been charged over the attack.

For anyone in the vicinity of Sydney next Tuesday evening, I highly recommend attending this event:

Date:	Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Time:	6:00pm - 8:00pm
Location:	NG GALLERY
Street:	Upper Level 3 Little Queen Street, Chippendale

An exhibition of hyper-realistic paintings of favorite toys, to be opened by esteemed film critic David Stratton. The show will also feature some of Nick's Archibald and Doug Moran nominated portraits, and will run through til November 14.

See you there!

Unbelievably, another of our friends passed away last night, just a few days short of his 80th birthday. I say unbelievably because when we saw him for dinner last Thursday night he seemed well enough. I would have scoffed at the very idea that he might not have another good decade left on his dance card.

Professor Jim Hagan was a former Deputy Chancellor of Charles Sturt University 1990 – June 2001; former Chairman of the Board of Governors, Riverina College of Advanced Education 1976 – 1989; former Dean of the Faculty of Arts, University of Wollongong; and author of several major works on Australian History, amongst other things.

Rob went to work for him 18 years ago as a research assistant. The two became firm friends, as often seemed to happen with Jim and folks he worked with. Jim and his wife Lois have been regular features in our lives the whole 10 years Rob and I have been together.

This photo was taken a few years ago at The Hideaway restaurant, Thirroul, a timeless Italian establishment with an unchanging menu cooked by Mama and served by Michael to the accompaniment of piped accordion muzak. We’d meet there at 6pm every few weeks along with friends Marion and Hazel. Jim would bring beer he brewed himself. Lois would retrieve a pot of anchovies from her handbag at a strategic moment and tip them all over the garden salad. We’d always pour studiously over the menu then order the same stuff we always order. Lois and I would inevitably drink too much.

It was at the Hideaway that I became besotted with the SBS program Global Village. On a TV set high on the wall, that particular show always managed to attract my attention even with the sound off, with its fascinating snippets of exotic cultures faraway places. Many a fantasyesque detail, from water jousting to salt brick towers, has been snaffled from that show and integrated into my own storytelling.

I can’t believe he’s gone. Absolutely cannot believe it. But as Rob said, he had a good innings and died in the saddle. Researching material for a new book, loved by many and with all his faculties intact.

I’ll miss you, Jim. I really will. Goodnight.

Dad's solo exhibition opening is coming up this Saturday at the Artarmon Galleries. He's home from hospital and walking well without the aid of a stick following his toe amputations & skin graft. He's been out and about doing normal Dad-type things. It's almost as if the past five months were some kind of horrible dream.

Our bad kitty Nemo brought a little brown bird into my study while I was on the phone to the plumbing company a few minutes ago. With the phone tucked under my ear I managed to get the bird off him, kick him out and shut the door but now I have a little bird hopping around my room issuing indignant chirps. I think he's OK. I've got the window open with the fly screen removed so I'm hoping he'll make a break for freedom on his own.

In photography, the selection process is a big part of the art itself. Back in the day, on a roll of 36 frames I'd be lucky if 4 of them turned out to be worth printing. Thousands upon thousands of captured moments never saw the light of an enlarger. But now, in the future, with all the wonders of digital technology I'm slowly working my way through the process of getting old negatives scanned. I expect I'll find a few gems amongst the dross. Here's one, taken at a sci fi convention, possibly in Brisbane. I didn't consider it printworthy at the time but now I really dig it. What do you think?

Did you know that the story that inspired The Beast From 20,000 Fathoms — at least partially — was a short story called “The Fog Horn”, written by great science fiction fantasist Ray Bradbury? Until now, Bradbury’s important story — which indirectly led to Godzilla and all that followed for the giant monster genre — has never been accurately filmed. Japanese director Daisuke “Daice” Sato and his crew from the Replica Co. Ltd production studio took Bradbury’s story “The Fog Horn” as the basis of a short experimental film — a project completed in 2007. The film, however, has never been released. If you would like the opportunity to see The Fog Horn at some point, skip on over to Undead Backbrain and leave a comment. There's a chance that if enough people show interest, the film will be released.

Folks, I simply can't recommend this guy's writing highly enough. I thought he was good writing sci fi as Michael Marshall Smith but his 'modern day' novels are something else entirely. Suspenseful to the point of being utterly unputdownable, peppered with non preachy humanism and consumerist critique, all delivered with lashings of grace and style.
Sir, I stand in awe.

Dad turns 79 today. Unfortunately he's back in hospital having had two toes amputated and a skin graft. But he's in good spirits, getting ready for his upcoming exhibition. Last time we saw him he was sitting amongst a sea of envelopes and invitations. His handwriting is so awful it's a wonder anything he mails ever finds its destination.

He tells me he's walking fine, the missing toes having had little effect on his balance. Hopefully he'll be back home again in a couple of days.

So yeah, we're TV-on-DVD junkies. After wrapping up Ashes to Ashes, season 1, which I thoroughly enjoyed despite it not being a patch on the original Life on Mars, we moved on to a couple of birthday presents provided by my sister. I chose these titles myself, even though one of them, Spooks Code 9 came with a dire warning: DO NOT WATCH THIS CRAPPY SHOW UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES.

But being that my particular set of circumstances require me to suck up any and all instances of post apocalypse, we did start watching it and we're still watching it despite it being completely and utterly ridiculous. Spooks Code 9 is a kids show, yeah? Here's the premise: London gets nuked. In response, MI5 decides it needs to be staffed entirely by hip young 20-somethings with awesome haircuts because" terrorists are getting younger". When not on the case, the crack team of juvie spies pictured above hang out together in their share house, spending their downtime in ultra-chic nightclubs where they proceed to get hammered and snog each other.

The remake of Terry Nation's Survivors, however, is post-pandemic drama of the highest order. I'm a big fan of the original mid-70s show. The producers have remained true to the spirit of the original while updating it to address contemporary issues and concerns.

Gripping stuff, folks. Check it out.

Last September a speculative fiction writing retreat for 10 participants was held at Leura House in the Blue Mountains, NSW. Tutors were Terry Dowling, Robert Hood and Cat Sparks. The weekend was a roaring success so we’ve decided to do it again. Seven of the 10 available places are already spoken for. If you think you might be interested in participating, here are a few details:

Why?
The purpose of the weekend retreat is to provide the opportunity for writers to have their work read and discussed by peers and professional writers. Participants will engage in group critiques as well as having one-on-one opportunities to discuss their work with Terry, Rob and Cat.

Where?
Leura House, Leura, Blue Mountains
7 Britain Street, Leura
2 mins walk from Leura railway station

When:
Prospective dates are either November 20, 21 and 22
Or November 27, 28 and 29.
 
Tutors:
Terry Dowling
Robert Hood
Cat Sparks

Cost:
Somewhere between $450 and $470 if there are 10 participants. Payment covers breakfast, morning and afternoon tea, dinner on Friday night, accommodation and use of the conference room.

For further information or to book a place, contact:
Angie Rega: coatlique@hotmail.com

Last year's participants