◉ 031 | Mount Olympus

I visited our friends

with my parents.

The adults sent us out to play.

We played the Olympics.

Shot put was the hottest discipline.

We found a large round stone

and took turns.

Božo’s throw was so good

we lost sight of the stone—

a second later

it landed on the top of my head.

It almost knocked me out.

I felt a tickle on the side.

I touched it—

my hand came back covered in blood.

Instead of dinner with friends,

I landed in Emergency, hungry.

All because of the Olympics.

A nurse shaved a strip of hair,

stitched me up,

and sent me home

with a white ribbon on my head.

Years later,

I was still playing the Olympics

in my head.

Two weeks ago I stopped playing

and decided to participate.

I don’t have a gallery at my disposal—

I have empty walls at my place

and a need to show the work.

So I’m beginning here.

At the foot of the mountain.

Not later.

Now.

I want the pictures to meet people,

not live locked

in a suitcase under the bed.

To stand in ordinary light

and ordinary time.

To ask for a second look.

BLINDFOLDED

isn’t about covering the eyes.

It’s how life makes us look without seeing—

and how a second look changes everything.

If you’re in Melbourne:

home exhibition—

BLINDFOLDED: why we look, but don’t see?

Saturday, 22 November 2025

drop in 2–7 pm

3/82 Raleigh St, Essendon

Come and see

a room full of pictures.

If you’re elsewhere:

begin with what you have.

Take the first step.