About Don Hill:
Don's Art is Visually Descriptive and is associated with particular episodes in his life and many travels.
He is an Australian based Multi Disciplinary Practice as well as a Creative Director.
He has had a love of Art all his life from early childhood and been involved with many notables and projects over this time in Australia, United Kingdom, New Zealand, Japan and Thailand.
Since 2017 Don has written and self published Nine Books about his art practice with the Fictional Title "Kathmandu Taxi' just registered. Don is also writing a new story concurrent with a showing of works with the title "A Sound Like Rain".
All paper products that he  uses to publish his books are ISO FSC certified and are a renewable and recyclable resource.  He is critically aware of zero environmental harm and preserving what is left. "All the books I publish still contain the Carbon that was produced in their manufacture as opposed to what we are viewing on our computer screens.'
"All my publications come from plantation timber and I am looking forward to the day that we are using Cannabis as a substitute for timber paper products.'

Don held his first Solo Exhibition in Brisbane in 2000.

Fresh works are coming to A Sound Like Rain. Artwork Titles, Exhibition and Book launch dates will be announced soon. More new works will arrive soon.

                           "Study for "Pool Reflections' at the Boulders. Gold Leaf, Oil and Acrylic paint on box board stretcher 41 x 41cm 2024.  A Sound Like Rain Series and Book

  "Study for "Pool Reflections' at the Boulders Number 2. Gold Leaf, Oil and Acrylic paint on box board stretcher 41 x 41cm 2024.  A Sound Like Rain Series and Book

 A Sound Like Rain
is coming into the light.
A new way to Celebrate the Australian Landscape.
Not Obvious at first Glance or viewed at a Distance.
2024 / 2025 ISBN Registered Catalogue / Book available late 2024

                                        Detail from a "Pool' Study. Oil and Acrylic paint with Gold Leaf on board.

 A Sound Like Rain Overview and Foreword

When I came to start these works and writings I had no idea of where to start except the fact I could look at the image of Queen Elizabeth on my wall and feel inspired. She always encouraged me.
Art and writing is not an easy pilgrimage although when ideas, words and paint start to flow in the congenial direction it is difficult to halt the process and take a rest. So you may find yourself looking up to the clock at one or two in the morning and wonder how you arrived at that point. You and me are different as we have lived different lives with different outcomes that never collide. I am not of the mortal and moral courage to lay back because of the places I have been in my life, some good, some bad, some threatening, some desperate, some sad although there were happy times in between. I have survived all these years dressed in a coat of a loner, vagabond and tramp. I used to think Art was easy in the fact I could paint a portrait or still life and feel happy with it as I thought people would like it and relate to it. Now it is different as I like to write it's story along the way to explain the purpose of the paint as well as the pen.
Please read on and discover my story of the Babinda Boulders, Bartle Frere  and Far North Queensland.

Don Hill 2024

 In the Beginning (A Sound Like Rain 2024)
 Day One
The Turquoise sky had fallen in and down to Earth melting like butter into the depths of the forest pools. Green tree ants ran wild up and down lianas to known and unknown destinations hunting food for their tribe. They had a history and could make use of any scraps that were left in the green verge and turbulence of leaves and vine. Writing their own script and future Anywhere, Anytime, wherever and whenever they wanted. Vibrating with life and being. Further down reptiles moved upstream further and further as they had no predator or fear anymore just the hunger for territory, survival and sustenance. The arteries of the rainforest hum to the sound of the Riflebird as it displays a notice and muse to a new mate and the sound of Cassowary walking on. Day flying moths flew to the call of the boulders while Ornithoptera displayed size and beauty a thousand times more than what was required and sought in this green mixture of life and abundance and stated that Priamus was King and Queen. So this is what this place is. An encounter, a mixture of green colour and uncluttered noise. This is what this place is.
The snake makes a stretch along the tree as if to be a branch then slides effortlessly upward to find a fresh egg or something else to eat. Its glistening armor sparkles rainbows in the speckled light of the rainforest. God lives here or maybe God doesn't. It doesn't matter how it manifests itself as all that counts is that it manifests and conquers with its beauty and surprise.
The turbulence of sound, running, crashing water and the rustle of the leaf completes the poetry of noise. A noise that only Nature can make.
Once out of the blue the Paradise Kingfisher swoops down to the lower canopy with it white tail dipping earthward the fluttering wings prods the leaves into a rhythmic almost operatic movement. Leaning forward there were strange sounds in the forest and also footprints in the mud.
Footprints in the Mud
The day at the pools continues with carloads arriving for their swimming lessons to hear the call of the princess beckoning them to join her at their leisure forever.

"At the Boulders.' "Figure in Landscape.' Oil, Acrylic Paint and Leaf on Box Board Frame. 81 x 61cm. 2023 SOLD

Two Days Later
The heat of January was too much, oppressive and overwhelming. Ulysses danced in the sky black, blue, black, blue black, blue, black blue while the sound of the falls grew louder to the rush from the previous nights downpour. The Zodiac moths started early their metallic wings frantic to keep themselves cool. Some might think this was paradise. Others Hell because of the heat. The Coral spawn now covered the sea with its oily drift on and forward far out to the outer reef. This as well as the rain offered life renewal in a world of turmoil and change.There were noises in the forest as I trod along an unknown path to an uncertain destiny. Ulysses still danced in the sky but the forest mood had changed to a degree of uncertainty. Still hot still unconcerned. Concerned that I did not walk in front of a Cassowary with chicks or step on a venomous snake. The mountain track was steep without compromise and my breath drew deeper as I went along and forever upwards to Bartle Frere. Lianas were grabbing at my ankles and tearing them bit by bit but I continued as I knew this would make me stronger like the forest inhabitants. Well away from the Devils Pool the grade became steeper, more slippery and wetter in the Wet Tropics. My boots were now becoming loose and damp. Someone told me that when you start to see the Tropical Rhododendron you would be very close to the summit. The wilderness was wilderness and uncomfortable with blood and sweat.

Day Three
The Sun sank behind the trees at the West of the beach as Starfish made tracks and circles in the sand. The Triton hunted them when daylight stirred and started to dim. Hammerhead was now on top of the Apex game just observing, cruising alone and along in his Grey suit. This is how we are. Alone
The pools start to call once more as the Darkness comes to the Oasis.
Today it was not Ulysses that danced in the sky although Ornithoptera flew onward and fluttered by in Metallic Green and Brown coats. My name is Birdwing it sang as it did. It was now the Sun high above my head that danced as I had thoughts of the clear blue and its freshness with a giant stride and bubbles exiting from my aqualung as I sank down into the depths of the Coral Sea. Just dreaming. Just dreaming as the Fish buzz filled my ears to the hiss of the BCD.
This time I had set out early to reach the top of the peak before the heat came.
As usual I was lost as I had been so many times in the past.
It was as if Genesis had been reborn and came to visit me on this Earth in a dream as I walked further into the lush green of the Wet Tropics. Further away from the Pool of Souls where the princess waits for those she calls and beckons to join her forever. Who will be next? Who will wear the Number 22?

I stumbled on heroically trying to keep composed even though my legs were bleeding from the attacks of leeches and lianas. I still went forward. Luckily I brought treatment for those injuries although not for the ones in my heart.

                                                                            Pool. Digital Print on Archival print paper 61 x 33 Limited Edition Signed and Numbered 2024. Available

                                            Number 22. Digital Print on Archival print paper 61 x 33 Limited Edition Signed and Numbered 2024. Available.

The Yin and Yang In Between 
One day at a time came and left as the moisture departed from the massive stones forming eddies of mist in the sunlit morning sky.
A zodiac moth fell from the sky landing abruptly on one of the massive granite stones.
No movement at all as death had arrived without warning.
Death it was as its journey and cycle of life had ended and once again it would become a part of the Earth.
Within moments its lifeless body was found by a travelling Green Ant on the hunt for food, then another and another arrived until its departed shell was crawling with them and being cut up and carried away to feed the nest high in the trees.
Life came and Life had gone.
Life arrived and Life departed.
Life on this Earth cannot last forever.
It had come and now it had left, yet the remnant that remained was still useful.
This morning the pool was heaving and calling from the previous nights rain.
It was as if the Princess was lonely again and needed another partner to join her at the Devils Pool.
Sun flickered through the trees.
Was she standing watching among the trees or standing by the pool with her back turned waiting for her next partner?
The white vale of her dress turning grey then blue, fading and reappearing in the mist as if to beckon even though her face was unknown as her back was always turned.
What did her face look like?

              Among the Stones  Detail. Oil and Acrylic Paint, Silver and Gold Leaf  on sized Ply Board 80 x 60cm

Day Four

The day started the same as any other day with me wearing my smile in the correct upright position and being positive about reaching my objective.
The top of this mountain.
My injuries had started to heal even with the overnight rain coming down on my Denali one person. It was hard to sleep with continual noises all around in the Alpine surrounds.
Breaking branches, footsteps in the dark and night animal noises.
Whatever the noises were I had no need to know.
Obviously I was near or about to enter the 5000 foot mark on the mountain.
Most people reach this Mile High Club by flying.
All of this was on foot.
Through the spaces in the branches and leaves I could spy and make out the distant seascape of the Reef so far away and yet so close.
From the top the view is much more panoramic.
Its patterned coral outline something else and noted for further reference.
Occasionally there would be the sound of a passenger jet flying overhead.
Other than this it was just the sounds of the jungle singing the song it had sung for thousands of years.

"Moonlit figure at the Boulders' Gold and Silver Leaf, Oil and Acrylic paint on box board stretcher 81 x 81cm 2024 From a Sound Like Rain.

Day Five

A Tree Limb drew my attention but I couldn't figure out why.
Then it started to move.
It was a python of the large kind moving vertically up the tree trunk.
Everything was big here even the snakes.
There was also small and micro.
Being the best dressed in the jungle was never a priority as you would always come out looking the same and maybe with a Scrub Tick hanging off you temple or somewhere else.
The important thing was to keep going as you were never sure of what was going to happen next especially with the atmosphere as this was always changing up here in the far North.
Weather reports were an assurance of some certainty but never one hundred percent accurate so the earlier you set off the better it would be to avoid an unlucky encounter with nature and its obstacles.

"Reflections' at the Boulders. Gold Leaf, Oil and Acrylic paint on box board stretcher 81 x 81cm 2024.  A Sound Like Rain Series and Book

Jingles in the Jungle
Being familiar with the advertising fraternity there were always tunes popping into my head.
Although I could not remember most of them it was opportune to write this stuff down immediately and possibly record it for future use at some point in time in your studio as sometimes one might be useful. Not that I had any ambitions to follow Morris and Johnston it was just an interesting ploy and play on life that we as creatives can conceive and bring to life in a mundane world.
So when I was walking through the sticks sometimes a tune would appear in my creative head space.
Don't know where from as it just happens.
If you don't record or write it you loose it almost immediately.
Once in a while in my imagination and reimagination a Song and Dance team would accompany me in my sojourn through the forest. The more the merrier although no one was there. This broke the monotonous step by step walking if you could have songs singing in your head. Once I had taken a side trip to Elabana Falls at the Green Mountains. The rush of the water was so loud you could not hear yourself think but the music kept playing and creating it's own syllabus.

                      "Moonlit figure at the Boulders' Gold and Silver Leaf, Oil and Acrylic paint on box board stretcher 81 x 81cm 2024 From a Sound Like Rain.                        

Day Six (a time to run)
It looked like a storm was on the Summer horizon in the East with the possibility of a Tropical Low forming in the Coral Sea.
It was now time to descend the summit and head South before turmoil was unleashed.
All that is paradise can be undone.
This can happen in seconds and minutes.
There is however renewal at the end.
The path of previous storms still visible in the lush green with groups of trees stripped bare like reeds in a pond.
Their grey trunks still standing as a testament to the past and nature's fury.
An urgency started to spring from the Cicada noise as there was a movement in the air and a feeling of impending doom.
Cumulus Nimbus was coming forth and upright, its billowing white and grey puffs stretching up to the Stratosphere.
The Coral Sea was once again brewing its teapot unbeknown to the human counterparts who thought they were smarter than the rain forest incumbents and inhabitants.

                                      "Mountain Top Study' Oil, Acrylic and Gold leaf on Marine Board 50 x 50 cm
Happiness at Last
The rain clouds penetrated deep into the mountain side making the walking harder and harder. Slipping was a concern in that if one broke a leg who would come to look for you especially if you didnt let anyone know where you were going. As a human I was nothing special just skin and bone with some meat in between. I had proved this many times but I just had to keep going regardless of how hard the rain became. Further on I could see some sunlight and comfort at the end in about 300 metres which meant that I could dry out and take some rest. Stepping over Lianas in the wet were not the most ideal result that you could wish for but there was no other choice. I was still energetic and I felt that soon I would be taking a long trip overseas possibly back to Nepal. I remembered that one of my previous encounters had moved to Gangtok in Sikkim and had a baby. Being a smoker she looked tired and worn out when I saw he last on an Insta page. On this trip was the princess of the pools still travelling with me and guiding me with her hand hopefully to join her?

The Seventh Day
I sat at Murdering Point tending to my wounds with a combination of Sodium Hyper chloride and antiseptic creams. The Sun beat down upon my weary head without mercy as blood seeped from the wounds in my legs. I was on my way back to Feluga to my shed and shelter finally. I missed her so much in the previous days only having the comfort of a Denali one person tent. My mission to the mountain and pools was over. Well for now and in the next couple of days, almost. I had made it to the summit and beyond. The tramping noises in the night rainforest made it impossible to sleep but by early morning I slipped into unconsciousness and into the bliss of nothingness. I remembered this before there was anything. Before my time began. I still missed my allotment at El Arish its beautiful eight acres overlooking the valley and down to Jackson Road. One of the most popular roads near Tully. Today I was reluctant to venture forward to see anything anymore as I needed rest. As for Jackson Road it was really busy as there was an attraction in this Cul-de-sac for those who had a need from something more exotic than Trekking.

"Reflections' at the Boulders (Detail). Gold Leaf, Oil and Acrylic paint on box board stretcher 81 x 81cm 2024.  A Sound Like Rain Series and Book

"The Bend in Time 1'. At the Chute. Digital Print on Archival print paper 61 x 33 Limited Edition Signed and Numbered 2024. Available.

"The Bend in Time 2'. At the Devil's Pool. Digital Print on Archival print paper 61 x 33 Limited Edition Signed and Numbered 2024. Available. 

The drawings above describe the "Bend in Time' at the pools of the Boulders and show the Figure (Oolana) or whatever it is welcoming the new arrivals to her abode. There are three pools which the Legend revolves around and these are "The Washing Machine'. "The Chute' and the "Devil's Pool'. Overall to date there has been 21 known drowning deaths in recent times of young males with one female fatality. The Warning signs are Omni Present and cannot be missed but individuals still cross over the fence line and sometimes bath in the pools.  This practice is highly dangerous and if you are dragged under there is no chance of saving yourself.  On occasions one slip will be fatal with rescue not possible only recovery. When you walk the tracks of the Rain Forest here there is a persistent presence.

Shack of Creation
January was sweltering with so few options in the Far North. 
I could be out fishing or diving on the reef.
Fishing for a Trout or Spanish Mackerel but the better option would be for me to go back up North to Chiang Mai or spend part of the season in the English Winter. 
I still had friends and connections in Thailand with my Academic friends. 
In the UK there were some that would be happy to see me and maybe put me up for a couple of days or just make the crawl to the Belsize Tavern for old times sake and a John Courage just to get pissed one last time. 
There was also Lacksey daisy at the Maidenhead Pub and memories of the past which was once the hang out of the old boys just moving Down the Dust pipe.
Carl was now So far away. Carl had actually passed away in 2017 unable to write or even play music anymore even though he had such a great history of moving from the bush to London and beyond writing songs for himself and others.  When I heard the news of his passing I was so sad. 
Life goes on most of the time.
Today it was sweet being back in my little hideaway way up in the Far North Tropics of Queensland away from the background noise of Brisbane town and everyone else.  I had a vibe to start painting again after my visit to the pools and Bartle Frere.  My mood was refreshed as I looked at my hands as the tool of the next creation.  Why f around with a brush when your hands could do better. They bring us back to our origins when we were in the caves,  The cuts and bruises were healing fast.  Sometimes I wondered how I kept going.  I just did, as this is what I had always done in the several incantations of my current life.  I had been almost everywhere on the planet except Melbourne and New York not trying to convince myself that this is how it is done but convince myself to keep going regardless of the background.  I still had a strong belief in myself and an urge to get to my destination regardless of everything that was happening.   Black Sabbath was rattling "Into the Void'   at the big shed with their final concert in Birmingham in 2017, as I  had bought the biggest surround sound I could find in Northern Australia.    I reached into the drawer for more Gold Leaf and see what acrylics were left. 
I had run out this night so I would have to send an order to the Art Shed in West End for more. Interestingly I happened on a pack of Silver which I did not really pursue or use but it would be vital to some of the works that swam in my thoughts, head and dreams.  I could see the Zodiacs in front of my face playing as well as Priamus pursuing his female target.  He was the great seducer of the insect world.  Green and Black made his wanderings more lustful to the Brown of the female counterpart.

"Reflections' at the Boulders (Detail). Gold Leaf, Oil and Acrylic paint on box board stretcher 81 x 81cm 2024.  A Sound Like Rain Series and Book

The Oasis
As time past I came to the realization that I was living in the Oasis and the rest of the world had become and became a desert of idle doubt, hate and unremorseful thoughtless agendas.
The more I thought about this the more the idea became truth.
I was far away from the Southern crowd and finally doing my own thing without restraint and human interference.
This had proved and begun my release from Urban Sprawl.
Somewhere in my psyche I was free at last in my last ditch to be me away from the mass dictatorship of constant upheaval and power struggles.
I had once again found somewhere to call home without a Litmus Test from anyone.
The next day I was on the water again with the new 17 Foot tinny heading out to the reef to catch some much needed sustenance.
There was a game plan and that was to find and navigate one of the Wonky Holes where the fresh water springs pop up into the salt water.
This is where the fish would be and feeding.
As I moved along doing about 30 knots the outboard on the back sounded like it was actually idling as there was much more it could do at the click of the throttle.
I set my sights on going southward to the Barnard Islands and Lindquist Reef for Brunch and then find some territory that wasn't fished too often.
I had finally made it to John Coburn territory and my age no longer mattered, just my health.

                                     "Mountain Top Study' Detail. Oil, Acrylic and Gold leaf on Marine Board 50 x 50 cm 

My Paint Box sat idle on the sideboard cupboard as I could not bring myself to paint anything anymore at present.  My energy was spent and even though I had not created many works this time these were enough to progress to the next stage whatever that was and whenever it would happen.  The energy of the rainforest was still present in my mind and I had seen many things some good and some not so good.  That adventure had come to an end for the time being. I had an urge to go diving again in the Coral Sea in the underwater rainforest so I started to get my BCD and Regs ready for that next step into the Abyss. Wall dives on the edge of the Shelf held some promise as the vis was always 30 metres plus sometimes 70 metres. Encounters here were usually big and tangible with the likely hood that a tiger might drift up from the depths to investigate who came splashing into their domain.

                                              "Reef Fishin' Detail. Gold Leaf, Oil and Acrylic paint on box board stretcher 50x 50cm 2023. A Sound Like Rain series 2024  

Extract from A Sound Like Rain 2024.   Release date to be announced.

             "Depth of Presence' Reflection looking up' Detail. Gold and Silver Leaf, Oil and Acrylic paint on box board stretcher 61 x 61cm 2023. A Sound Like Rain 2024 

                 "Reflection at the Boulders ' Detail. Gold and Silver Leaf, Oil and Acrylic paint on box board stretcher 83 x 83cm 2023. A Sound Like Rain 2024 

                   "Tropical Low ' Gold, Oil and Acrylic paint on box board stretcher 145 x 70cm 2024 From a Sound Like Rain.          

Another Morning after the Previous one. 

The swelter of the Northern Winter had now passed and it was a relief to be heading back to the coolness of Summer again with my tinny heading out to the reef for a fishing adventure. Banfield would have been impressed although he could fish from the beach and always catch something he would still be impressed with the might of a powerboat. I had the memory of the pool which still lingered with me as the Princess was still calling her next Guest to stay with her. God could not be involved in this folly and had no place or plan here. No involvement of God was warranted as the warnings at the pools were omnipresent but meant nothing to anyone if the fence was crossed on the exit to oblivion. Jumping from the rock Big Jack won't necessarily let you come back as when you enter this area the hand of death is on you to guide you through the chute then to the Washing Machine. Overall I just stuck with the Zodiac moths and the sound of Mother Nature so I could feel safe but the hand of the Princess was always there to welcome a new stayer in this place. Frolic if you prefer but don't slip as this could be the last step you make in this life.

                                                                                  Heading North 2023

                                                                          “Dreaming of Shambahla' Detail. Acrylic and Oil Paint, with Gold Leaf on Wood Box Board Base. 81 x 61cm 2023 Available

Extract from the Heading North Book ISBN 979-8-89184-849-8

The Tinny glided across the glassy water towards Dunk crossing the pond.
A morning so calm and clear was worth a Toby Lure out the back of the boat for good measure just to see if anything was around.
It was now warming up.
On this particular day I headed down towards the Hull River keeping close to the shore until I came across the grey cliffs that dive into the sea like the back of the Dragon.
No stopping in this area as the salties are big as well as active and hungry.They are the Dragons in this time and age.I made the left turn back towards Dunk with an idea I might head towards Bedarra.
Thoughts and Visions of John Coburn and his art burned in my head as the boat bobbed up and down on the non existent waves.
I could almost hear Norman Lindsay writing and narrating this story so many years ago.
I had a copy of his book published in the 1930's and not being able to find it in Australia
I purchased it from a bookstore down in Kentish Town the last time I was in old London.
Coburn’s tapestries and geometric compositions played with my aquatic libido and I realised how great he was.
Years earlier I had swum around the Peer at Dunk alone as well as up and down the point.
Nothing happened.
Something that would never be attempted again as the water is murky and you don't know what is eyeing you off.
The resort was now gone on the island as the last cyclone smashed it to pieces.
There was two metres plus of sand through the resort and structures with no hope of resurrecting it at all as it had to be demolished.
It used to be beautiful and you could walk through the resort without question eyeing off the food which was laid
out on Mahogany tables stretched around the inside perimeter.
This was very different to the Sands of Kooringal.

                                    "Out of Darkness' Detail. Gold Leaf, Oil and Acrylic paint on box board stretcher 160 x 120 cm 2023. Two Panel Piece. Available

                                            "Out of Darkness' Detail. Gold Leaf, Oil and Acrylic paint on box board stretcher 160 x 120 cm 2023. Two Panel Piece. Available

"Heading North' ISBN 979-8-89184-849-8 (Released 1st of November 2023)

The opening was held at The London Offices 30 Florence Street Teneriffe. "The Florence Street Space' in Teneriffe Brisbane.
A beautifully crafted edition including photographs of multiple paintings that celebrate his story. It's about adventure in Croc Infested waters in Far North Queensland. The book is descriptive of Don Hill's journeys in a Ten Foot tinny in open sea in and around Dunk Island as well as containing an extract of his fictional book. "16 Belsize Crescent' describing the adventures of his alter ego character Owen Stanley. His near swamping between Mission Beach and Bedarra island in the early millennium and the harrowing journey back to dry land.

Once again I fell under the spell of the “Island of Dreams’ Shambhala.
The journey, this one had taken me two days with delays including weather and getting the old Evinrude Motor serviced.
It was a great motor and always ran despite circumstances.
I was mobile again on the glassy sea. It was glassy so far until the next call of the Sea Bitch.
Dunk always looked easy until you started the crossing especially in an old boat.
This time I made sure I had enough inflatable foam encased at each end of the boat in the event I got swamped as this vehicle was of the old style and could easily sink.
So I could bail before the inevitable.
The life jackets were yellow so therefore the prime colour that Sharks were interested in although it was the only colour I and anyone else could get.
I remembered the good old days when I could ply the Noosa River up and down in safety and catch a Flathead or two.
This was a lot different.
It was the open sea in a tiny Ten Foot Tinny.
If I took the seat out of the front my ship would plane across the water at speed but if I left it in it would plough on.
What should I do?
There were always questions and not many answers.
Finally I had arrived.
This was now the “Night Anchorage at the Island of Dreams’. Banfield’s hideaway and mine.

                                          "Line of a Tropical Shore' Detail. Gold Leaf, Oil and Acrylic paint on box board stretcher 160 x 120 cm 2023 Available

                                    "Once there was Sclerophyll' Gold Leaf, Oil and Acrylic paint on box board stretcher 40 x 40 cm 2023 Sold

                                  "The Floating Land' Gold Leaf, Oil and Acrylic paint on box board stretcher 80 x 60 cm 2023 SOLD

Interview with Nittaya Inphirut July 2023
Don Hill is Heading North

"I see that you have an interest in certain types of Music.'
"Yes there is music and there is music which I listen to from time to time but most of it is one of my passing fads.' " I have quite a collection if you are interested.'
"Does it have an influence in your art.
'"Yes and no.' "Yes because it was conceived out of thin air and no because it may eventually become boring to listen to.' " The same as Art becomes as you have your moments where something took place and then you may try to replicate it but this doesn't work or it works for a while until you become bored and cant look at it anymore.' "It becomes past tense and no longer interesting.'
"This is the time in the Lull or Doldrum of life when you know you need to move forward but you don't know how to.'
"This is when the depression sets in so once again you dig yourself out of the hole and try to move forward without trying.' " When I work if the neighbors are fine and the music is loud while I am working, I like it as it speaks a lot to me about life and who we are.'
"What do you mean by who we are.'
"Well it is simple I just drift alone with the currents that are coming out of the speakers. It helps to have this distraction when I am working.' "A Kind of mediative approach so as not to be so attentive on the canvas or board.'
"So you do paint on canvas.'
"Used to.'
"It's so unnecessary and we have better alternatives than this stuff.' "Obviously Belgium Linen is the preferred substrate but highly expensive.' "I prefer something more solid than a spongy surface like canvas so when you attach this stuff to a board and you don't get it right you get all sorts of things happening which keep telling you not to use this material again. It looks better on a sailing boat than in a frame.'
"Lets continue.'
"What is Heading North about.'
"How did it come about.' "Ok'
"Originally a few years back I published "Changing Perspectives' which I thought was quite nice but it left gaps that couldn't be filled at that time and then after I finished my latest book this year.'
"The Art of Don Hill.'
"I had a bit of a break and in the meantime I started writing again and the script started to manifest itself inside my consciousness.'
"I had quite a few experiences in North Queensland and mixed with an undercurrent of normal existence in those times you learn a lot of things and people tell you about their experiences.' "At that time I would just shut up and let someone else do the talking so this is how I know these stories about the experiences of others and can piece them together.
"So Heading North is a story I have written obviously about my Art Practice but of which I was hoping to break the mold with this time as I have started to have and need to have a break from in depth articles about art I thought I would write a story about actually heading North instead of descriptive words about art.'
"So this is a Story?'
"Yes of course.' "It's my Story.'
"Ok. Please continue.'
"Its difficult sometimes to describe things.'
"Heading North is about real Life experiences and my journey through life.'
"The part about Doug in the book which is just one chapter out of many of an unpublished script is just a small part of what is coming as there is more that I have written and I can do.'
"I included this as I thought it was a little bit funny in a comical way even though it may not be acceptable in mainstream culture.' "Doug and Jack really existed maybe not with the same names but what happened up there was true and the whole line of this story is based on fact although there have been additions to it on the way.'
"Everything in there really happened.'
"Who is Owen Stanley?'
"Ah Owen is my alter ego and the main character in the script.'
"What do you mean about mainstream?'
"With mainstream we are starting to lose our soul as we have to decipher everything to see if something is acceptable by our contemporaries or society.' "This sort of stuff really sucks as it is not really what or who we are.'
"Obviously some things need to be questioned but I think the thing that needs to be ascertained and questioned is our Cancel Culture mentality which is run by a minority of individuals who describe themselves as professionals and even though they may have a PHD they do not know anything about real life or care about it.'
"Ok. I think we need to get back to the real interview.'
"So can you describe for me what you are trying to do with Heading North.'
"Obviously trying to bring it to the masses although today we have Lethargy about everything except our mobile and electronic slackness.' "Visual Art may start to slow with electronic visual art taking over but you cannot replace Vincent or Claude and others with pretty lights.'
"You can try but it is not permanent as there is nothing like the real thing. This goes for the impressionists, as well as all of the practitioners from the twentieth century who are no longer around.
"I remember taking many trips to the Tate in the seventies to view Vincent and the others. Two struck me the most and these were Paul Gauguin and Pierre Bonnard.' "They were visually important in my life.'
"And Today?'
"They still hold the same currency and have not diminished. I still love their works.'
"What about you and Frank De Silva.'
"You talk a lot about Frank.'
"Yes I loved frank.'
"He was a mentor to me.'
"We would go on field trips to Boonah and Sketch landscapes then get pissed together at the Harrisville Hotel. "Frank was a great artist as he could pull a composition from anywhere.' "Well almost.' "When I heard he had died in a traffic accident I was devastated.'
"Then there was Arthur Evan Read?'
"Arthur encouraged me to go to Europe and make my own way in life.' "He was a brilliant artist and also the spitting image of the Archbishop of Canterbury.'
"And even though he was an atheist people would come up to him and greet him as "Your Worship'.
"One last question.' "Okay.' "Why do you continually were Sunnies.?' "Oh that.'
"I have an Eye condition and have been advised to wear Dark glasses day and night.' "I have had ongoing treatment for this condition for the past two years with some positive and some not so good results .' "The general treatment is very painful and I cannot drive or do much after I have had it."

Nittaya Inphirut Master of Arts

“Floating Palms at Flying Fish Point' Acrylic and Oil Paint, with Gold Leaf on Banana Fibre on Wood Box Board Base. 81 x 61cm 2023 Available

"Heading North' the Book is now available at a special price of $59 AUD. Free Shipping within Australia

Extract from "Kathmandu Taxi'  ISBN 979-8-89443-911-2  Release Date August 2024 (Fiction) But is it True?

"Milking Mother's Yak'
The dirt road winds endlessly through the valley
and the mountains appear up in the distance.
Sarangkot is on the left and just up ahead Machhaphuchhare
speaks volumes to the world.
It’s fishtail head invites but cannot be breached.
It's snow covered flanks excite as it stands up
straight and erect and rises up to heaven.
The mountain air invigorates the senses with the smell and look of
the morning dew on the leaves and the grass tells Owen that
Mother Earth can still be a nice place to be.
The day and the night.
The night and day.
The night renews the earth for the next day.
But the smell of smoke starts to drift down the valley.
The haze starts to fill the air and once again what is
seen clearly is now not seen at all.
Except once again along the path the growth of the Seven Leaf
Clover is everywhere.
He is still happy and hears a song in his head.
Jefferson Airplane blasting out.
Its repetitious.” Want Somebody to Love’.
So 60's and San Francisco.
Vibe of better Hippy days.
His mood almost starts singing the song but
any preconceived idea of this is trashed as he knows he
cannot sing even after his short career in the primary school choir
The weather is cold, and wood fires are lit to keep the earth
and its inhabitants warm.
Owen follows Sita and her cousin’s brother through the
Mustard Seed towards her hill of dreams and her family.
He looks through her dress at her form and thinks what
the future might be like in the darkness of evening.
A clear stream babbles along at the base of the dirt road
gradually eroding and undercutting its course.
"Come this way." she says and turns to cross the stream on
a makeshift bridge.
We are lucky we did not take the plane to Jomsom.
It has crashed killing everyone on board.
Fuck really!
Yes fuck really!
Welcome to Air Travel in Nepal.

Copyright Don Hill 2024

Interview with Bronwyn Holm about Kathmandu Taxi 2024

Tell me about Kathmandu Taxi.

Yeah sure.

I wrote the first very brief draft in 2008 after my second visit to Nepal but it obviously
needed a tidy up and a haircut.
I am happy with it now.

What is it about?

It is about adventure and encounters with other cultures with the main character
being a chap called Owen Stanley.

What is Owen like?

He has spent the last few years in the UK working at anything he can get an
income from and at long last he has enough money to go travelling further

Where does he go?

He has this dream of traveling to India to buy a Sitar, learn to play it properly
and meet his idol Ravi Shankar but he is disillusioned when he arrives as the vibe of the
Sub Continent does not suit him and Ravi is actually living in England and
California by that time and is very old.
He finally gets to Nepal but realizes that Kathmandu even though it was one of
the main Hippy trails of the early 60s and 70s has totally changed.
So what happens next in his story?
Nepal has really changed and it is not the same and welcoming as it used to be.
In fact it is highly dangerous for locals, foriegners as well as men and women
He arrives in Nepal in the middle of the Civil War with the Marxists which is a
little bit daunting but he realizes that if he does not take the risk or chance he
might as well have stayed in England out at Ascot in the safety of Tittenhurst
He prefers to meet and converse with locals instead of people from Europe and
his own country as they could influence his thought.
He couldn't be happier to get away from this crowd although he has made many
friends along the way.
The locals know how to get around and also converse and get out of most
Especially people carrying guns.
Obviously he meets women who help him and become his guide and sometimes
he falls in love with them and even though it may seem like brief encounters he
still continues to be in contact with them even after he leaves as he does still love them.
You know money doesn't last forever.
One girl in particular has taken his fancy.
She convinces him to travel back to India and go to Darjeelling and Gangtok
which she says will adjust his negative thoughts about the sub continent. He
asks her to go with him but she refuses as she has to look after her mother's stall in Dubar
Square in Basantapur.
He travels to Darjeeling which he loves and this is the start of a new journey of
finding out about himself.
His true inner self.
There is in no need for mediation on top of a mountain or finding a Guru to help
him discover the truth.
Only him. Only Owen can do this. Although he still meets up with locals.
Finally he becomes self aware of who he really is even through the haze of alternative practices
and finds reality and not just a fake world that predominates human society and is structured by money and greed.
He realizes that humans are here for a higher cause, not just being involved in useless controlling ideology that is put upon them by those in high places.
It is still a Cast system whether it is in India or everywhere else around the world.

Yes go on.

On his journey he doesn't take any friends with him as he does not want to
influenced by anyone into their pack mentality or preconcieved ideas about different places.
He just wants to experience what it is like traveling alone in a places where he will see few Westerners.
One day he might even get married to that girl in Kathmandu but he loves his
freedom more than marriage.
The girls that he meets love him but also hate him at the same time knowing that
they could not convince him to marry them and he will depart and probably
never come back even if he says he will.
So this is his adventure during a time of Civil unrest with a lot of risk and
pressure on the local population.
It's a story about his encounters at the Roof of the World.

And how did Owen Stanley come about.

Oh that.


He was always on a quest to find his true self even in risky situations.
There were places that he would not travel to but given that he wanted to
experience what it was like to live among locals, eat their food, feel their
emotions and live (even briefly) like they did.
His mother and father lived in New Guinea and Richard his father was a world
authority on insects especially Lepidoptera and worked for the Australian and
Papuan Governments in that capacity.
He was friends with Ray Statham up at Kuranda and that Garry guy up in the
Atherton area.
Oh ok.
Thank you Don and we all hope the book will be incredibly successful for you.
Bronwyn Holm