Who knows …

Who knows where his mind will fly today …

steve and steel flowers

and what might catch his eye

steel sculpture flowers

and what his hand will turn to.

steel flowers

Spring has sprung in the steel studio …

steel flowers

Whimsical creations …

gumnutssteve and flowers

Really Wild Flowers (as arranged by Hunter S. Thompson).

Created by Steve.

really wild flowers

Bound in October for Somewhere Down the Lachlan Sculpture Trail at Forbes.

Meanwhile a stingray has found its way to the sea, on display till September 25 at the biannual Sculpture at Sawmillers at McMahons Point on Sydney Harbour.

stingray 1stingray at sawmillers

And a new corner is turned.

steel base sculpture

Stephen Hogan Sculptures
on the web at  www.hogie.com.au
on facebook at Stephen Hogan Sculptures
and by appointment at 2/72 Corporation Avenue, Bathurst. 0429 339 737.

It’s all in the turning up.



    The hibernation and a case of busy head syndrome

    bathurst sunset

    We’ve had the shades pulled down for the last few months.

    Winter. The rainiest, greyest one we’ve had for many years. Paddocks awash with water, dams overflowing. Snuggle down weather.

    And that’s exactly what we’ve been doing. After six years in Sydney – at uni and working weekends – we’ve had our 24 year old daughter home with us for three months, working and saving for her next chapter – two years in New York.

    She left last Wednesday.

    It’s been a long lead up and we were all a big fragmented last week but she’s fallen into the lap of old friends in NY and moves into an apartment next week.

    Ain’t skype grand.

    Now I’m just getting used to this new concept of being the mother of an expat.

    And time zones.

    And recovering from discovering the cost of transporting a bed full of gear across.

    And from transferring money to the wrong Bank of America account.  oops.

    And that was just Tuesday. The day I forgot the bookkeeper was coming.

    It’s all good.

    But it has been hectic.

    And so has work.

    So … with the wattle in full bloom, the bulbs all bursting and the days themselves drawing out a new chapter begins.

    Turn the page.


    Months ago I’d booked into a weekend workshop with Alison’s Art Workshops at Huskisson, a two day tonal workshop with Aussie artist Maryanne Wick, based on the work of early 20th century Victorian artist Clarice Beckett. All new territory for me – Maryanne, Clarice, tonalism and the Jervis Bay area.  I know the far south coast really well but my god, how beautiful is the Bay area. (No pictures. Sorry. I had the camera with me and good intentions but was too busy to get it out.)

    Two glorious, solid days of painting. Looking. Wrestling. Pushing. Learning.

    Stayed high on a hill overlooking the sweep of still coastline and white sands.

    Flirted briefly with the idea of moving down there. As you do. Stopped in front of a for sale sign at Hyam’s Beach overlooking the water. Looked it up. 1.95 million. Looked away very quickly haha.

    So Polly (trusty canine) and I and assorted friends and family are back to walking our river.

    And after the weekend painting and a few days for thoughts to settle, I’ve come away with a new sense of place. A new respect for place. I’ve realised how intimately I’ve come to know its nuances, its colours, its smells, its sounds.  And how beautiful it can be even when it’s clothed in its winter drabs.

    I had a play with the oils this morning.

    It’s all a work in progress but that’s part of the whole deal I think.

    Exploring. Constantly exploring.

    And therein lies the joy. And the frustration!

    In all its different shapes and sizes.


      Quiet reflections on a netball court

      Over the years we have spent many hours on the cold, wintry sidelines of the netball courts in Bathurst. More recently I’ve been walking Polly across them of a morning.

      We’ve finally got some winter and there’s been rain – too too much of it on the coast but out our way it’s been much much needed. And with the rain has come the colour. Deep and autumnal, the hidden textures that are washed out in summer have been quietly revealing themselves.

      Beautiful little landscapes so easily overlooked.


      Mini aerials from central Australia.




      Soft, shadowy coastal hues.


      Who knew there were paintings waiting to be painted in them their netball courts.

      turquoise 2

      A quiet exercise in abstraction. In simplification. In looking.


      That’s my current here and now.

      Stay warm lovelies.


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          Hi I’m Margaret Hogan, an Australian based designer, writer and artist.
          A sprinkler of creative magic.
          A wanderluster and weaver of gentle tales. read more.
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