As you might have noticed on your way to this page, my likeness was recently rendered in turpentine-infused pigments by Ric Amor, an artist of considerable renown and dab hand with the bristled stick. This portrait was selected as one of the 34 finalists for the Archibald Prize, Australian art's equivalent of the rugby league grand final. (you've never seen such a collection of ugly mugs in all your life) .
Going against convention (and thereby minimising his chances of winning) , Ric portrayed me as a figure within an urban landscape of definitely Melbourne implications. He has me as a watcher, a lurker in an alleyway. I like this approach because it arises from Ric's reading of my books rather than trumpetting my questionable status as 'some man or woman distinguished in Art, Letters, Science or Politics' by doing me as a giant face. Unfortunately, this is a bit hard to reproduce at the size of a computer screen - and even harder for newspapers, most of which found it more convenient to simply excise Ric from their short-list reports). For those interested, the finalist portraits will be shown at a number of galleries in Australian cities and regional centres over the next nine months. Details are available from the Art Gallery of New South Wales. This institutution is located, I have been given to understand, in Sydney.