I can't imagine that there's a better feeling than FINALLY doing something you've been vowing to do for years. Ever since MONA opened in Tasmania I've had a desperate hankering to attend. And to top it off, I wanted to visit during MOFO - the summer festival of art and music.
So last year, I said "right, that's it, I'm going in 2017."
And I did.
Hubby had his cycling trip to Bright planned, my gal's not interested, so I asked my bestie from Uni. She was IN. It helped that as an academic this was basically a work-related trip for her - made the choice even easier.
Now, when it comes to travelling to MONA, the cry from those who've been there before was loud: travel by ferry and get thee to the Posh Pit. At first, my inner scrooge baulked at the tiny extra cost. But then, in the interest of really experiencing it, we went for it. On the Friday, we wandered down to the Ferry and caught the special MONA ferry.
I heart the posh pit.
Greeted with a glass of bubbles that attentive, boiler-suit-clad staff insist on regularly topping up (yes, even at 9.30am - what of it?) I was already in love.
Then check out the canapés on offer.
Dead.
Gone to heaven.
Arriving at MONA we had timed tix to the free exhibition On the Origin Of Art. Four scientists curated four exhibits that you viewed after choosing a doorway (so much like choosing a window on PlaySchool!).
This was mind-blowing. We spent hours immersed in these rooms. Words can't describe. It was just the best thing I've ever seen that's all.
This Leda and the Swan was stunning. Bold, lush, compelling it dominated the room.
This, check out this.
Because it was MOFO, there were musical acts in the most surprising spaces. This gallery was one. Haunting.
I had to buy the book on the story of MONA - M and I couldn't believe that an architect and David Walsh could have such grandiose vision realised. Look at this incredibly long concrete tunnel that leads to an intensely powerful pavillion.
If you're going to ferry people to your museum you SHOULD custom build a multi-million dollar ferry with sheep for seats up the back. How can something be simultaneously ominous and welcoming? How?
Look, everyone's been drinking whisky for yonks. Except me. I decided Tasmania would be the place to rectify that. And that this bar underground at MONA would be the optimal venue.
It was. An attentive barman listened to our tastes and selected these babies. Neat.
We visited Battery Point, where a lovely woman in a lovely shop told us we must see the dusk light show in the Turrell Pavillion at MONA.
Holy dooly.
Sitting on warmed marble benches, with the Tasmanian dusk already turning on a show - we were treated to this. Doesn't do it justice - you have to see it.
You really do.
If ever I were to be inspired to take up landscape painting this would be my muse.
And then, on the final morning, we bid farewell to our heritage sandstone AirBnB, gazed down over West Hobart, and plotted our return. Dark MOFO 2018 - see you soon.