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'Looks just like marmite to me', advanced the aborigine, amazingly attracting the Australian artist's absolute attention again, '...but who am I to question your magic, being but a simple example of this land's indiginous species - I know my place - but tell me my fine applier of many coloured oils (by the way, I'm sorry, I don't know what it is yet, but I do like the little bit of light here and the little bit of shade there), is it by chance that you happened here today, and a coincidence that upon your person you carried the magic mar-, sorry, vegimite - or is there some greater, deeper, wider, higher reason for your manly physical presence, and if so, pray tell me what that reason might be?
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Always sufficient hills - never sufficient gears
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