Leaving Old Beach heading for Hobart was a rather relaxing and easy drive along the eastern side of the River Derwent. Old Beach being on this side of the river, it made for a less busy journey into Hobart.

I had previously plotted and researched my route into Hobart, so already knew where I was going – the Market Place car park, and where to turn – the Officeworks on Brisbane street. I'd written out these instructions for myself, mostly because I dislike a GPS and would rather know where I was going than be listening for the GPS to tell me. Easier to plan regarding traffic flow etc than laying in wait for the GPS to tell me. It was surprising, driving into the car park, how much reserved car parking there was, I thought I might reach the roof before I found a car parking spot, I finally did, on level 8.

While I could have driven to MONA from my accommodation, I'd decided that it was an experience, and I would have the whole experience, which included getting the ferry, the MR 1 to MONA itself.

I was on the first ferry of the day, having risen early the previous days I knew I'd be up to take the trip it made that day.

As the ferry set off, I knew I was right, that going on the ferry was definitely part of the theatre and experience of the MONA.
I ventured out to the back of the ferry first, where the 'cattle class' sheep lay, and the cow.
But I also ventured out to the front of the ferry, the very front in front of the bridge where, it was quite...bracing. I had to come in, it was such and properly zip up my jacket, pull on my Spirithood properly and keep my hands in its pockets, and then I was ready to face the wind, it was amazing to stand out on the prow, while it was somewhat cold it was definitely an experience, especially as no one else seemed willing to brace it; I stood alone.

As the ferry arrived at what seemed to be a somewhat unassuming dock, it slowly revealed itself; the 100 or so steps up from the ferry left me a little bit breathless but I managed to make it to the top of the stairs without needing to stop.

Although I was slightly perturbed when, having got to the top I found you had to journey downwards into the depths of the gallery. I again took the stairs down, while there was a lift, the stairs allowed a better look at the world that I was descending into.

Sally, Stewart and Zoe, whom I met on the West Coast Wilderness Railway said that once was enough for MONA. The fervour with which other people talked passionately about MONA had made me weary of going, and my expectations weren't really set at any real point before I'd arrived. Even as I descended down I wasn't sure exactly what was going to be revealed within.

I think the problem, that some people have with MONA is that they're not sure how to contextualise it into their preconceived ideas of art.
A bit of a wanky sentence I know.
To which I mean that some people I'd spoken to proper to coming said that once was all you needed and that it even wasn't worth the price of admission.
Zoe whom I met on the West Coast Wilderness Railway said she'd been once and that was enough and she was glad she didn't have to pay (she was from Launceston).

A lot of the artists whose works are on display at MONA aren't traditional artists, in that they're artists in that they create art work, but might not be recognised by the "elite" as artists.
This I quite like, because it's very unconventional art, and it's challenging.
The question I began to wonder though as I wandered around was what makes art...'art' and what are the mad scribbling of those with mental illnesses, the overly medicated or those just huffing paint fumes?

The latter had some art in MONA and had been huffing paint fumes and then went on to do some art.

I think some might say that, perhaps that means it isn't art, not "proper" art.
To which my retort would be then what about Van Gogh? He had a mental illness, was committed for a time and eventually took his own life, which basically puts him in the same field as a lot of the people on MONA.

There was one piece which the audio commentary noted that the Tate Gallery in London said wasn't contemporary, because the artist wasn't notable enough.
MOMA - the Museum of Modern in New York disagreed and they had this artist's work, which was all about some devil children but was actually about how the artist was abused in care as a child.
One piece had been assembled by MONA, because it had been in pieces when it was discovered.
This was one of the more traditionally arty pieces, in that the drawings were fairly easy to read and look at, the figures had a cartoon-like quality to them, but they were all as devils or other things like that.

How I imagined the Burrow in Harry Potter.

There were some art works that were in the borderline area between art and...I don't want to say rubbish, bit stuff that depending on the context you wouldn't say wasn't art and was instead just stuff that people make.
It's certainly unique like paper and cardboard models or random science fiction guns made out or found objects.
But is it art?
That it's in a gallery certainly suggests that it is art.
That it's been presented etc means it has meaning and has people looking at it.

It made me think, about what is art, and what isn't art, and I think that may be why people, some people, don't like it. Because it's not clear in what it is (or isn't).

The gallery of the Museum of Everything is divided into themes, slightly leaning more towards concepts of belief and spirituality. But then it veers off into concepts of science fiction and flight and weapons, then off into the home and other themes like creatures and animals.

Coming out of the Museum of Everything gallery there was a gift shop and a Frenchman offering tea and biscuits.
My first instinct was to refuse, because that's basically my first instinct for everything when food is offered. I prefer to make a choice, than be offered something.
But I was persuaded, basically because I have looked at attending MONA as an experience, rather than just a visit to a fancy location.
It was a little bit surreal.
Very surreal actually, sort of like Alice, in reverse, being drawn back out of wonderland by magical tea and biscuits.
It was all served in a dainty cup and saucer.
It was gold coin donation.
It was, as I continued to walk around, just the thing, it really felt restorative and prepared me for what was to come.

The wall of cunts, and other weird things.

Cloaca was really an assault on the olfactory senses. It basically reproduces a stomach, it's even fed twice a day and then the end result is that it shits itself.
It really smells like bacteria feeding.
I'd read about something like it in the past, so I knew the theory behind it. The seeing and smelling it was something else though. I had to hold my breath and go in and have a look.
It's not quite gag inducing, but it's close. That smell of bile and other things. And it's all these to witness in clear ovoid chambers, it sort of looks like a milking room, except they're essentially stomachs.
It's very weird, very arty and very...post apocalyptic science fiction sort of thing, like this is the way one day in the future we'll get eggs. That's what I thought when I read about this exhibit on 'The O' app, that they'd somehow worked out how to make an egg. But no, it's just good art work that shits itself.

Another exhibit which I walked into and then out of and then back into, was 'white library' or something like that. It was a room with books in it. But all of the books were white. The same white, their covers and everything.
There was nothing to suggest what they were about. They were just stark white books.
I found it weirdly intimidating, that these things, these books should have context, but they didn't and your eyes slide around the room looking for some hint of context from this room, from the books inside the room, and instead you're almost assaulted with the lack of anything, with the lack of suggestion or of context, of anything, and I really found that disturbing.
Maybe it's because I like books, and am used to reading along the shelves of a bookshelf looking for something I recognise, or something that interests me. But here in this artwork there was nothing of that, just white, blank books that didn't say anything, didn't give anything to their environment, it was just...nothing.

Overall, I found MONA a bit overwhelming. It's an assault on the senses and really is an art experience. It's almost like no other art experience I've had before.
It was all a bit too much to take in during one sitting. I walked through, trying to take it all in, but with the audio commentary, app with additional notes and what you see before you, it's all just a bit too much to take in.
I fully intend to revisit MONA, I think it will take at least another visit to appreciate it all, but probably several visits to really take it all in.

As the ferry arrived back at Hobart I was very, extremely glad that I had caught the first ferry of the day the 9:30 am, which had been very quiet, with no queue to get on, and the ride there and back had a very casual feel to the ride.
Arriving back in Hobart I saw a very long queue to get onto the ferry with everyone looking eager and a little annoyed at having been kept waiting. I think having more people around would have changed the vibe of the ferry and the experience to MONA.