A Day on MONA

We must have been living a sheltered life in the US. We had never heard of MONA. Here the most common question is, “Have you been to MONA?” Now we can say that we have, though MONA is as much an experience as it is a place. Those how have been there know what of I speak.




You can get to MONA by land or by water. Since the buses and the boats leave only a few hundred feet from where we are staying, getting there was easy.



We chose the boat. Now there are two classes of passengers, the masses who go “steerage”, and the few who ride in the “Posh Pit”. Somehow I think you can figure out which method of travel we selected and what the level of service was. What can I say, we are only going to go to MONA once in our life, so why not do it in style.



A pair of wannabe Tassies on holiday.



One of the first things you see when topping the long steep set of stairs from the boat landing. Besides the beautiful young model you might notice there is also a metalwork sculpture of a cement mixer on a flatbed truck and trailer behind her. From here things just got weirder and weirder, understand though, I am not speaking of the lovely young model who accompanied me around MONA. Smart Bob.



I can honestly say that we have never before seen a sculpture quite like this.



Linda making a rubbing of a rock from the platform at the Hiroshima railway station. Part of an art project, they have thousands and thousands of these rubbings in their archives.



Self portrait.



Not the typical signs for waste bins.



Inside a sculpture.



Words not necessary.



Moorilla Winery tour. Some of the best wines we have ever tasted. As Linda put it, “Fresh and Crisp.”



Lunch at the wine bar outside the winery. Linda had a salad while I had a grilled cheese sandwich. Of course calling what we had by those terms is like calling foie gras chopped liver, or filet mignon cow meat. They were simply beyond awesome tasting.



The signs say it all.



Art



Light projected on falling water.

This being a family blog, much of what they called art is not suitable for our viewers. Art is in the eye of the beholder, but according to Linda, much of what was there was in no sense art.

There is a fine line between no sense and being an idiot. There is a fine line between acting your age and being too old to know better. There is a time when you say, I’ve always wanted to that and you do.