nicholas nicola etchings

2013 etchings

On this webpage will be added images produced in 2013 from January onwards...thank you.




'Cosmic Flow'

sepia. 12" X 8".  aquatint. sugarlift. copperplate.  



 B&W. 14cm X 19cm. aquatint. sugarlift. zinc plate.

Original concept devised from Australian banksia pods placed side by side and as observed in clusters in banksia trees while bushwalking. One is reminded of clusters of stars in the universe.*


* Consider the following passage which I have placed in L.I.S.A a fictional (novel) manuscript:

Look at the clusters of banksia acorns in banksia trees (one is reminded of clusters of stars in the universe). Then look at the rows of many dark oval pods of a single banksia acorn and imagine a series of universes which ours is but one. Consider then the innumerable multiverses that exist in a single tree and then multiply the innumerable abundance of universes there must be in the broad sweep of a whole national park. How can one human mind comprehend such an eternity? When one thinks of what William Blake said that even in one flower you can view forever? 


Link on Medium of this image and text:


'Ressurection Fallen Tree'. Royal National Park. Sydney .

B&W.15cm X 22cm. aquatint. sugarlift. copperplate.

Although this tree has fallen I was struck by the many branches springing up to the sky.






B&W. 8" x 6" aquatint. sugarlift. copperplate. 

(In memory of my father also known as 'Speedie.'  Andreas Nicola  15/3/27 - 20/2/2013). 




 I sometimes envy the family cordiality of the Anglo - American middle classes

 when I compare it to the psychological upheavals of my Grecian family history

 Which nevertheless goes back to the beginning of time

 To the time when Prometheus stole fire for humanity 

 To the time when chaos was replaced by the universal order of the gods

 Who fight and debate amongst themselves

                                                                     shifting the fates of both men and women

            according to their whims

            according to their lusts

            according to their jealousies

            according to their drunken states

            States of mind

            States of body

            States of soul

                                   and other Aristotelian dichotomies


            States of divine judgement

            States of  human error which do not guess correctly the divine moods

            To the moods of my father who has the temper of a thunder god

            I understand now he is none other than Zeus

            I his son

            The son of Zeus

                                       Doomed to deal with a god who has the gruffness of a Spartan warrior

                         (How I envy the apparent civil manners of Anglo-Australian society)

             Hey there’s Zeus studying the racing form guide

                                                                                          with the discipline of a   university academic studying the 

mysteries  of  quantum mechanics

Hey there’s Zeus picking oranges and lemons from the backyard

Hey there’s Zeus taking out the garbage

Hey there’s Zeus shouting at everyone in sight

Hey there’s Zeus at his dinner table singing old distant folk songs from the village

Hey there’s Zeus on his knees exhorting against the injustices he sees

Hey there’s Zeus who feeds my mother whose body has totally been worn down by disease and by the hours of hard work and emotional pain inflicted upon her over the long years

Hey there’s Zeus watching the footie

Watching the share


 Watching the parliament


 Watching endless episodes of American sitcoms

 Watching John Wayne kill all those bad men

                                                                        from out of town

 Watching his grandchildren who play in the backyard created from the life force of his soul which contains enough energy to explode and tear apart the known universe from the suburbs of Sydney through to Circular  Quay

It is a mystery to me

                                 as I play with my sister’s twin three year olds

My nephew

My niece

               on the swings

                                     (There I am pushing them to and fro in time with the rhythm of the universe)

                                      to think of the push and shove and determination of my father who had his family working for twenty  years in the milk bar

I’m still on the swing with my nephew and niece

We are all three silent enjoying the midday sun

                                                                             In a paradise made from harsh toil

      Yes it is still a strange realization to me that from the endurance tests foisted upon us by life can sometimes come such tranquillity

                                                                                                                                                                                   Nicholas Nicola.



RESSURECTION SERIES etching notes/musings. 

Size : 5708.047 Kb
Type : pdf


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