- what / Producer
There are photos of nephews, dried plants, some random postcards and newspaper clippings connected to the fridge with letter magnets.
Its warm, the floors are wooden. I feel at home and comfortable as Simon serves up pumpkin soup and crusty bread. Hospitality is natural and splendid from the heart. It could be reckless to refuse kindness when your pride is defensive.
The Art is created in a small room, white and full of light, shared with a partner. The paint, small drops of paint spent on the creating intrigue and interest my eyes. This is the room where creation is manifested.
Simon Deaker lives in our time, in our state of being. Unknowingly dedicated to the central cause of the New Zealand spirit.
His paintings don't confuse me, or reject my conscious attempts to understand them. They sooth my raging passions, exposing layers of compassion, layers of intent, layers of someone seeking the truth of their own mind.
You are allowed to accept people as a revolutionary, you are allowed to claim that you can see the future and it is bright, full of friends and family together.
Go and find his Art. Look at it. If you feel like it, buy it.
