• About
  • Archives
  • Bread/Baked Goods
    • Almond Cake (made with xylitol)
    • Almond Cake (Tarta de Santiago)
    • Ardys’s Sourdough Spelt Bread (overnight method)
    • B & B Mug Muffin
    • Bread and Butter Pudding
    • Buckwheat Pikelets (pancakes)
    • Donna’s White Fruitcake
    • Flourless Chocolate Cake
    • Gluten Free Currant Scones
    • Gluten Free Double Chocolate Chip Cookies
    • Grain-Free Granola (my version)
    • Grain-free, French-style Apple Cake
    • Grain-free, Italian Pear Cake (Torta di Pere)
    • Hot Cross Scones (grain free)
    • Mug Muffin (grain free)
    • My Revised Sourdough (Winter)
    • Nut and Cinnamon Baked Muesli (granola)
    • Pumpkin bars
    • Super Single Muffin
    • Toasted Almond Muesli
  • Favourite Quotations
  • Food
    • Almond Milk
    • Babaghanouj (grilled eggplant, Turkish style)
    • Beef Cheeks Ragu
    • Beef Jerky
    • BLT Salad (with green dressing)
    • Brussels Sprouts with almonds and currants
    • Carrot Cake Style Bites
    • Cashew Milk
    • Cauliflower Cheese and Ham
    • Chicken Breasts with Rosemary
    • Chicken Liver Paté (*adapted from taste.com.au)
    • Chicken Salad
    • Chocolate Pud
    • Cold Brew Coffee
    • Cucumber, Corn, Coconut + Peanut Salad
    • Dukkha
    • Gado Gado (adapted from Charmaine Solomon)
    • Grain-free grilled cheese
    • Green Dressing
    • Grilled Eggplant Strips
    • Grilled Salmon
    • Homemade Ketchup/BBQ sauce
    • Kale with Chilli and Garlic
    • Layered Vegetables with cream
    • My Best Pulled Pork
    • My Pulled Pork (using Romertopf clay baking dish)*
    • Not-Nonna’s Meatballs
    • Pappa al Pomodoro
    • Pasta e Fagioli with Escarole
    • Pickled Eggs and Beets
    • Pumpkin Pie Frappé
    • Ricotta – homemade
    • SANE-eats
    • Slow Cooked Beef Ribs
    • Stuffed Mushrooms
    • Summer Minestrone
    • Taco Salad
    • Turkey/Chicken and Cheese Salad
    • Vietnamese style salad and Dressing
  • Instagram photos
  • Travel Photos

ardysez

~ surrender to yourself

ardysez

Category Archives: Inspiration

Visual or other things that inspire me

the waiting game…

01 Sunday Nov 2020

Posted by Ardys in Inspiration, Life

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

centralaustralia, inspiration, waiting

This morning on my walk I looked up and noticed in the distance over Mt. Gillen, virga falling from the clouds. We long for it to reach the ground but too often it doesn’t. We wait for rain…nearly always. Since the clouds were especially pretty and the ranges were still in sunshine I scrambled up a rocky outcrop to get a better view. And perhaps a photo.

By the time I reached the best photographic viewpoint, the virga was nearly finished. In my head, there was a niggling little voice saying ‘wait’. It brought back the memory of a recent lesson learned while photographing the wildlife in the Southern Ocean. Our generous and skilled National Geographic photographer, Ken, stood over my shoulder as I was trying to capture a particular shot of penguins. He whispered ‘Wait…….wait……wait….NOW!’. For him it was a teaching moment, for me it was a crystal clear moment of insight. Since then, I try to remember that one thing when taking photos…wait. Sometimes it is waiting for the animals to do something special, sometimes it is waiting for them to appear at all. Other times I wait for the light, because that is really what makes photographs sing, the quality of light. It is only light that makes a photograph, after all.

As I looked at the ranges with camera poised, waiting, a small flock of Galahs wheeled by in the distance. I tapped and captured them flying in front of a tree with the ranges in the background.

I returned home, reminded of that valuable lesson months ago, and began a sort of out of my mind experience watching myself in various waiting modes. As I sat in the courtyard getting my daily dose of UV light to make vitamin D, I waited. I ruminated over the seeds I’d planted in the garden, wondering how long I would wait for this new batch to sprout. Had I waited too long to plant the new ones…perhaps…more waiting required.

Later, I peeled mandarins for breakfast, the intense citrus aroma returning me to days of Christmas passed, when as children we waited with great anticipation for that special time. I waited for the sourdough bread to become golden toast. Once covered with butter dripping through the holes and onto the plate I did not wait to eat it. Having licked the plate mostly clean, I rinsed it while looking up and out to the garden. There, two precious native lilies nodded in dappled sunlight. The blossoms were perfectly imperfect and there was no sense waiting any longer to capture that moment forever. 

Later for morning tea I sliced a serving of what has become my most savoured treat. Almond croissant. Having refused previous offers made to purchase my favourite pastry, I deemed this morning the wait was over. During the winter Don had enlightened me about a piece he read stating that some expert or other had researched and reported tea is the perfect drink with pastry or cake…not coffee. Having tested this theory with a few willing sweet sacrifices, I concluded that for me at least, it seemed correct. But perhaps a bit more research was required. And so I added the perfect amount of organic tea leaves to a pot and waited while the kettle almost boiled so as not to make the tea bitter. I waited three minutes for the tea to steep and poured a cup to marry with my long awaited sweet.

We can hold multiple things at once in our minds. That is one of our human superpowers. We can be miserable and still grateful, sad and still laughing, and we can wait for things while still doing something…and that something is breathing. Waiting can bring the best of results, if in the waiting we understand it is part of the fabric of our life. It just is.

Share this:

  • Twitter
  • Tumblr
  • Pinterest

Like this:

Like Loading...

4.48

14 Wednesday Oct 2020

Posted by Ardys in Inspiration, nature

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

mars, nature, nice, solarsystem, somethingtoshare

Awake suddenly at 4.48am my first thought was THIS is the morning. I’d read that Mars would be closer than it will ever be in our lifetime on this very morning. The closest it will ever be is 60 million miles away—the farthest will be 400 million. My second thought was ‘there is no way I’ll get back to sleep, so I may as well get up and see Mars’. Not the thoughts of an intrepid astronomer.

I’d read Mars would be the brightest thing in the sky that night. I was doubtful. I was just hoping I would be able to identify it. Our skies are so clear and dark that as long as there is no cloud, things can usually be seen, but I’m no expert at identification. My feet slid along the bare, cold tiles to the western end of the house. As I opened the French door to the patio there it was, golden yellow/orange, twinkling against the navy blue sky. “I’m seeing something I will never see again. No human alive will ever see this again. Something many people on earth won’t know about, or  take time to notice, or have access to see.” And I stand there in the perfect early morning air gently ruffling my nightie and I watch Mars twinkle and I think, if this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.

A photo from June of my favourite slice of moon. Mars was too small for my iPhone to do justice to this morning. You will have to use your imaginations.

Share this:

  • Twitter
  • Tumblr
  • Pinterest

Like this:

Like Loading...

if this isn’t nice…

10 Saturday Oct 2020

Posted by Ardys in Australia, Inspiration, nature, Travel

≈ 15 Comments

Tags

bushfirerecovery, bushfires2020, flinderschasenationalpark, kangarooisland, tourismrecovery, Travel

The first of our trips to places that were rebuilding after the bush fires was a trip ‘overseas’. More specifically during a trip to Adelaide (1500k/1000miles south of Alice) to visit our daughter, we had a side trip of a twenty-five minute plane ride over water to Kangaroo Island. Most of you will remember the horrible video from last December/January that documented the decimation of the Flinders Chase National park covering the entire western portion of the island. The loss was heart breaking. At the time, Don and I were sad for the loss, but also that we had not been there yet. We thought we’d have to wait for years to be able to see it. But that was before we hatched our plan to travel to the places that wanted visitors to come and help them re-establish tourism and put some money into the economy.

Burnt coastal vegetation on the Western Coast of KI. This vegetation has not yet begun to regenerate. The wind and weather are so harsh it will take a while longer.

We were assured there was still plenty to see on the island by friends who had travelled there only weeks after the fires. They were so right. It was still gut wrenching to drive through kilometres of blackened national forest. But to go now, when things were starting to regrow was also very heartening.

As far as the eye can see–burnt trees, but greenish regrowth is appearing around the bottoms.

The sustainable timber industry had forests of trees that were 95% ruined for use, but a few that were already shooting new growth. Beside this forest were dozens of grass trees. We have never traveled anywhere in Australia where we have seen as many grass trees (Xanthorrhoea australis). Interestingly, where we saw the ones that had been through the fires, they had shot enormous flower spikes, an urgent will to survive! But in areas we traveled that had not had the fires, hardly a flower spike was seen. Mother nature at her best. In some areas there were dozens of grass trees, kilometres of them along the roads even. It was staggering. Grass trees are extremely slow growing but seemingly, rather fire tolerant.

This is a closeup of some eucalyptus regrowth in one of the surviving timber forests.
The grass trees with their flower spikes that have all shot since the fires.
It’s hard to get the perspective of how tall these flower spikes are unless you have a husband next to one! The grass trees grow very slowly. This one could be 75 years old or more!
A grass tree flower spike up close. Before it is finished it will be covered with the little white star shaped flowers.
A small native orchid, shooting leaves and sprouting moss, all evidence of recovery.
Sea lions frolic in their dozens in the waters through this natural arch at the left. Smiling daughter and husband at Remarkable Rocks, far edge of Flinders Chase National Park.

Of course the wildlife did not fare so well. But the rangers assured us they had seen platypus, kangaroo, goannas, wombats and birds returning. As the plants grow and become a greater source of shelter and food, they expect more animals to be seen. The fur seals and sea lions were plentiful, back from their near extinction from hunters a hundred years ago. The ranger at the gate of the national park said ‘Come back and see us in 7-10 years and we will be a different place’. That seems a long time on one hand, but not so much in other ways.

Emu Bay was green and beautiful in the late afternoon.
L to R: view from our rental out to Emu Bay, a beautiful tree called Pacific Blue, on the grounds of Emu Bay Holiday Homes, .
Our very quiet welcoming committee of one, asleep on the job!

Each part of the island has a slightly different character. Emu Bay, where we spent the first two nights, is peaceful and green. There were plenty of Kangaroos, though most didn’t show themselves until it was too dark to get photos. However, upon our arrival we had only just gotten out of the car when we looked up to see a Koala, asleep in the gum tree beside the house we had rented. It was only the second wild Koala I’ve seen in the 37 years I’ve lived in Australia. Of course I’ve seen them up close in various sanctuaries around the country, but not in the wild. Much of their habitat is disappearing so they are dwindling in numbers.

Seal bay was all about smiles…except for that one little scary bit…
This fellow was just telling me who was in charge! See up the hill, the greenery is dotted with other seals.

Seal Bay was a fun place, even when I took my eye off the task at hand and had a large male seal decide to have a run at me. The hazards of concentrating on the subject when photographing wildlife!

I thought the ball on the left had a strange resemblance to coronavirus illustrations.
The skeleton of a sponge, so exotic.

The walk on the beach was very windy, but I absolutely love seeing and photographing the treasures that are washed up on the sand.

Lovely fresh foods from Millie Mae’s Pantry, Penneshaw, and American River fish shop. (American River is the place where American seal hunters lived for a period of years, helping to gradually reduce the population of fur seals to near extinction in that area.)

We had some delicious food at some characterful places, including Penneshaw’s The Fat Beagle (best brownie ever!), seafood selection near American River, and breakfast and lunch at Millie Mae’s Pantry (Penneshaw). Though, quite a few places were still closed from winter, and covid, and fire devastation. In each area we visited we found one or two good places to eat. And we self catered a couple of times as well. The local IGA had a good selection of fresh foods.

But one of my most lasting memories was seeing the smile that almost never left our daughter’s face the entire time we were there. It’s been a tough year for some…and a very tough year for others and the environment. Take heart, there is still joy to be had in life and remember at every opportunity the words of Kurt Vonnegut

I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, ‘If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is’.

When you accidentally match your breakfast to the floral centrepiece on the table and the morning light and bird calls accompany. Nice.

Share this:

  • Twitter
  • Tumblr
  • Pinterest

Like this:

Like Loading...

we have a life…

13 Wednesday May 2020

Posted by Ardys in Inspiration, Life

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

bigsmallthings, life, pemachodron, simplethings, whenthingsfallapart

For weeks I have been ruminating over the whole isolation and distancing scenario, trying to figure out how it is effecting me, and observing how it seems to be effecting others, what we are being told, too. I imagine you are doing the same.

It occurs to me that social distancing in general is actually somewhat agreeable to me. First of all, I don’t like crowds or crowded situations, that’s obviously an advantage. Also I don’t appreciate the smell of certain individuals who either wear too much perfume/after shave, or who choose not to bathe regularly or who consume great volumes of garlic, or who have boisterous children. Keeping some distance is fine with me. I miss hugs.

Nice food is a huge pleasure for me, and need not be exotic or expensive, though admittedly, these croissants are both! (however, see pear photo below)

However, these words advertising a new tv show really hit a nerve:

…a lifestyle show for a world where nobody has a life.

What on earth are they talking about? I have a life. We all have lives right now. They may not be exactly the same as the ones we had a few months ago, but they are our lives and for most of us there is still some room for a variety of experiences within them. I resent someone telling me I don’t have a life. I’m well aware that for the elderly who are being kept isolated from visitors and loved ones, and for the young families, isolated together while trying to home school and work from home, for carers and first responders and for those who have lost jobs or own small struggling businesses, it is very tough. But for a number of us the change has not been devastating. It has been inconvenient at times, for sure, but isn’t life this way from time to time anyway? And aren’t there always people who have it better or worse than us? Didn’t Australia just experience the worst bush fires ever recorded? Those were hellish and mostly completely out of anyone’s control. To be sure, I know people who have been hurting. But we all still have a life, which means we have possibilities and choices.

Some of the inhabitants I look after are the birds. They entertain me and I feed them, a perfectly symbiotic agreement.

Looking after a home and the inhabitants’ needs, requires conscious living. It always has, and it still does.

There have been the well publicised shortages, some of which are ongoing in the form of empty shelves, thankfully, no longer people fighting over things. This has highlighted in our home one of the ways in which I manage it—I always keep a backup of things we use regularly, in the pantry. This meant that when we came home from being away and the world had changed, we did not have to worry about desperate procurement of toilet paper, soap, sugar etc. This is called planning and organisation and I have always done it. Previously, it has been met with humorous derision in the form of me ‘always being prepared for a small famine’. No one is laughing now. I’m not a hoarder, just someone who plans a little bit ahead. Partly that comes from living in a place where unexpected weather events sometimes cause shortages of products, both food and otherwise. When the railway line is flooded, goods can’t get to us. If there is a drought or cyclone in an area where certain fruits or vegetables are grown, we may have a lean season. I remember Dad telling me, running out of things causes urgency and inefficiency and it can be avoided by just anticipating one’s needs.

While cutting up fruit for breakfast, I take photos. I love the shape of pears.

‘Now’ is part of life. And we still have a Now, though sometimes challenging.

Recently I broke a tiny corner off a back tooth. It was very sharp. Thankfully, our dentists are doing emergency work. I had to be at the dentist at 8.30 in the morning and I was not looking forward to it. Our old dentist had sold the practice and retired since last time I’d been. So I tried one of the ‘children’ dentists, as my friend calls the younger ones. He was very gentle and conservative and thought it best to just grind off the sharp corner and watch the tooth for a while. All good. The odd part was the protocol. First of all, they had told me to wait in the car in the parking lot when I arrived, because they aren’t allowed to use their waiting room. Apparently I was also supposed to call them when I arrived, which someone forgot to tell me, or I didn’t hear–it’s a lot to absorb sometimes with all the new regulations. But given they can look out the windows and see cars and the occupants, I thought perhaps they would just see that I was there. When I’d been sitting there for a few minutes, they called me and asked if I was coming. I said “yes, I’m here!” She replied “Oh, just come to the front door and we’ll meet you there.” The dentist met me at the front door with sanitiser, then when I got into his room, the dental assistant met me with more sanitiser, and after that I still had to wash my hands!! Then I had to rinse my mouth with disinfectant, spit into a paper cup that was then disposed of, and finally put on the extra large bib and plastic glasses. I did feel for a minute like I was living in a sci-fi film, or had leprosy and no one told me.

But I still have a life and it is still filled with simple moments of joy.

Despite daily physical therapy exercises for years, occasionally the muscle in my upper left thigh still plays up. I know when it does that, if I jog uphill at the start of my morning walks, it somehow sorts out the problem, and in a few days or a week it stops hurting. After five days of pre-walk jogs, I started out of the house and realised it was fine, no more pain.

Flower Supermoon over the MacDonnell Ranges

There was a full moon and I thought I’d jog up the steep hill to the third tee, just for extra measure. It had been months since I’d scrambled around the rocky outcrops, chasing early morning light for photo opportunities. That morning was the Flower Supermoon and it was especially bright and beautiful, so I had special incentive.

As I crunched around the rocks and dry plants, looking for good vantage points from which to photograph, I thought about how comforting it is to do something enjoyable, however simple it may be. In fact, I’m quite partial to simple things. I was also listening to a gentle discussion via a favourite podcast, about a favourite book by Pema Chödrön, ‘When Things Fall Apart’. It is so full of wise passages…

Things falling apart is a kind of testing and also a kind of healing. We think that the point is to pass the test or to overcome the problem, but the truth is that things don’t really get solved. They come together and they fall apart. Then they come together again and fall apart again. It’s just like that. The healing comes from letting there be room for all of this to happen: room for grief, for relief, for misery, for joy.

Pema Chödrön, When Things Fall Apart

We still have a life, and the moments of joy amidst the inconvenience, anxiety and sadness, are there to be seen. We just have to look for them and allow them to exist with everything else.

Share this:

  • Twitter
  • Tumblr
  • Pinterest

Like this:

Like Loading...

shifting focus…

13 Monday Aug 2018

Posted by Ardys in Inspiration, photography

≈ 13 Comments

Tags

creativity, iphone photography

This morning I was reading an article about how to blur the background of photos on my iPhone:

You won’t always want to take photos with a blurry background. In landscape photography, you’ll want everything in focus from near to distant objects.

But there are many situations where a shallow depth of field will improve your image.

If the background of your scene is messy or distracting, it takes attention away from the main subject. Blurring the background eliminates distractions and makes the subject stand out.

And so it is with life.

gjmLusExTOCkDSR+%pEbXA

focussed on the weather…

Looking at the ‘big picture’ where everything is of equal clarity, you can see what is going on, in a general sense. But if you stay in that mode all the time you find that your attention is very scattered, first looking at the sky, then the buildings, then the trees, cars, birds and so on.

Sometimes we need to bring our focus sharply onto a single subject, in the present, so we can see what is important. Clear away the distractions. What is important might be a person, an emotion or a moment of realisation. When we are unable to shift focus back and forth, and then edit the image, our picture of things can get all out of whack—too fragmented, narcissistic—take your pick of a variety of counterproductive behaviours.

We need both ways of seeing.

This winter various aspects of life have gone in and out of focus for me. I look at the big picture for a while, and then zoom in on practical or emotional needs. However, I can never stray far from creative endeavours of some kind, and every now and then poetry pops into my head. If you ascribe to the theory that Elizabeth Gilbert (and others) talks about in Big Magic, you might believe me when I tell you, there are ideas in the form of energies that exist on a different level from our normal experience. We  can tap into it the way we hear sound as it moves through the atmosphere, or see light via different vibrations. These energies move through a person, and can be brought into our plane of existence. If it is not responded to, it will move on, allowing someone else to bring it to this plane. This seems as plausible to me as any other explanation for creative inspiration–elusive and mysterious to most of us.

If I respond quickly, the idea often comes pouring out, almost completed, with little editing required. It is usually brought to me in a moment of intense experience. I sometimes think my memory is quite strange…remembering the moment that inspired a poem for many years; or a particular little café in Bratislava, Slovakia, 8 years ago because I had the most delicious hot chocolate I’ve ever had. But if you ask me about a particular movie or book I’ve seen/read, my memory is likely to be very vague. I suppose it is the intensity and relevance an experience has for some of us that is the determining factor.

Regardless, these energies seem very real to me, and are a source of joy and satisfaction. Thank you for reading.

More

After I kissed you goodbye in your ear,

You looked at me and said ‘I love you.’

I replied ‘I love you too’ and your lips quivered ever so slightly—

the way sorrow settles into a person when they need

a little more time,

a little more nurturing,

a little deeper loving.

That look stayed with me like I had failed you,

But you were the one who had to go,

So I could only kiss you and say goodbye.

Share this:

  • Twitter
  • Tumblr
  • Pinterest

Like this:

Like Loading...

the stories within us…

01 Sunday Jul 2018

Posted by Ardys in Alice Springs, Inspiration, Life, nature

≈ 13 Comments

Tags

australian wildlife, humanity, memory, wild animals

Just after the sun had broken over the horizon, sending a few bleak wintery rays across the grasses in front of the house, I looked out the expanse of windows that stretch the width of the west facing end. There, about 30 feet in front of the windows, silent and purposeful, strode a lone Dingo. So quiet, the neighbourhood dogs even missed a good chance to raise the alarm. So quiet, I later wondered if I had seen it at all. Nearly the same colour as the dried, blonde grasses, only the dark spot of his eye and his nose and the sunlit hairs on the ridge of his back and the plume of the tail shone his shape. Perfect camouflage.

Lingers in my mind’s eye like a dream.

I set out for my walk moments later, in the direction the Dingo was heading. A single lone Dingo was probably nothing to be concerned about since I wasn’t walking a small dog that might be mistaken as breakfast. I kept my eye on the tall grasses walking over crisp, frosted ground, down the desolate back of the golf course on a Sunday morning. No further sightings. I wondered…is this the new normal of our cohabitation? The Dingo casually strolls through the neighbourhood while I keep a watchful eye and go for my morning walk.

Stranger things have happened.

The day before, a small mob of Wallabies had converged on our patio, scratching themselves thoughtfully, studying the windows…the same windows on the world through which I had seen the Dingo. The two adults and two joeys probably saw their reflections, or maybe some slight movement inside as I adjusted myself for a better view of them. Most likely the reflections of the rocky outcrop and sky behind them was their point of interest. It must be very confusing for them. Imagine if we all became focused on what was behind us rather than moving forward. The Wallabies were not seduced. Slowly they moved up the breezeway that gave them safe passage to the bottom of the driveway and within a few hops of the road. If they cross the road safely, which has always happened in the 20 years we have lived here, there is only one row of houses and then they are back in the bush again.

With the Dingoes.

Almost 40 years ago, I looked out of another expanse of windows. It was a whole lifetime ago for me–for the world. I was high atop the World Trade Center in New York City. The place was called ‘Windows on the World’. We were there for a cocktail reception for a national gathering of Television Promotion Managers and Art Directors. Below, an enormous world of skyscrapers, tiny ships and cars, and even tinier humans, spread out for many miles. They went about the business of the world. And now, I watch the business of Mother Nature where species learn to live with one another and it is survival of the fittest. No trace or photos of any of it, just what my brain has selectively conserved. Why would this memory visit me now? Why can I remember conversing with two fellows from Australia, one from Sydney, one from Wollongong, forty years ago, but have trouble remembering what I had two days ago for breakfast?

How do we reconcile the worlds within us? For the most part it is an unconscious process. But now and again we tell stories and make art and that turns something with seemingly no purpose into something of value.

 

fullsizeoutput_40d4

Winter Solstice

 

 

Share this:

  • Twitter
  • Tumblr
  • Pinterest

Like this:

Like Loading...

this morning, this moon, these atoms…

31 Saturday Mar 2018

Posted by Ardys in Alice Springs, Inspiration

≈ 17 Comments

Tags

bluemoon, central australia, environment, fullmoon, humanity

(note: it is annoying that WordPress needs to put a different date on this, than when I am actually posting it here in Australia, but that seems to be the way it works. It is April 1, 2018 here)

I admit to being rather uninspired to take photos lately. Possibly because I have other creative things on my mind…possibly…just because. But the moon was so super bright, and apparently ‘blue’, this morning… I shot out of the house and up and down rocky outcrops following its journey’s end across the sky as it lightly touched the sharp, molten edge of the ranges and then disappeared.

IMG_1221
IMG_1225
IMG_1228
IMG_1231
IMG_1234

Nature, the universe and all its inhabitants inspire artists of all kinds, I’m certain. The golf course where we live is highly regarded both for golf and for its surrounding beauty. And I am among its most appreciative observers. However, a person needs to watch carefully where they are walking, while keeping an eye on the bright spherical prize, or else you will go ass over appetite pretty quickly, not to mention twist something vital to mobility.  I am a Light Chaser, so I risk it. The price of being able to indulge this scramble is staying fit enough to pick carefully, but quickly up the lightly worn paths the kangaroos use (judging from the droppings…) and along the ridge. It is an art.

IMG_1237
IMG_1239
IMG_1235
IMG_1245
IMG_1248
IMG_1255

Eventually, when the sun had nearly erased the contrast between sky and moon, I came down from the ridge and walked toward home. The tiniest of wildflowers were in blossom, from timely rains a few weeks ago. They would nearly fit on the head of a pin. Across the way the funny ole Galahs were doing their civic duty on a small knoll, crunching a favourite of theirs, the ‘three corner jacks’. They are horrible, large prickles and in this instance, no one begrudges the Galahs their preferences!

IMG_1257
IMG_1264
IMG_1276

On the home stretch I spied a crested pigeon feather in the red dirt, with tiny tufts of green grass, again results of the recent rain. Around it, tiny dried purple flowers, blown along the way from a ‘Geisha’ bush several metres away.IMG_1278

IMG_1281

What a marvellous and memorable walk, while in my ears played an interview * with literary thinker Maria Popova and astrophysicist Natalie Batalha.

It took 13.7 billion years for the atoms to come together to create the portal to the universe which is my physical self. –Natalie Batalha

And there I was, my ‘physical self’, perhaps only accidental atoms, but able to experience perfection.

 

*This link is for the WEB page interview that you can either read or listen to, if you are so inclined. Podcast is ‘On Being’ with Krista Tippett, episode titled ‘Cosmic Imagining, Civic Pondering’

If you wish to see the photos larger you can just click on them. I used no filters or editing, these photos are as they came from my iPhone 6 camera.

Share this:

  • Twitter
  • Tumblr
  • Pinterest

Like this:

Like Loading...

find your powerful…

24 Saturday Mar 2018

Posted by Ardys in Inspiration, People, We're the People

≈ 19 Comments

Tags

guncontrolnow, humanity, marchforourlives, neveragain

There is something happening. Now. It is sad and it is uplifting at the same time. Probably all of you know about the tragic shooting of students in Parkland, Florida on February 14th. Maybe you are even sick of hearing about it. I have been following what has happened afterward fairly closely. A few days after the event I was explaining to my husband an interview I had seen where a father spoke of the loss of his son. Among other things, the father said he was ‘pissed’. I’m sure. My voice cracked and I began to cry, having to pause to be able to finish the story. Imagine losing your child to such senseless violence.

In their abject grief and shock, the students of Margory Stoneman Douglas High School, wasted no time. While grieving their best friends and classmates, their anger cut through the BS that has surrounded this issue for decades. Because they are young, a large portion of their journey has played out on social media. It is one of the times when I have been glad to have some connections on Twitter and Instagram. It has been so impressive to see how these young people handle themselves. There has been very little ego, hubris, double talk or any of the things adults are given to using. They just tell it like they have experienced it. This has happened to THEM. To their friends. They are the targets.

It is humbling. It is powerful. And totally frightening.

Things do not ever stay the same. Change happens whether or not we are ready for it or invite it. The United States is the country of my birth. It is where I lived the first 30 years of my life. I still carry an American passport as well as an Australian one. But most importantly, I am still a member of the human race. I’m a human who values life. I’m a human who doesn’t want to see senseless tragedy.

We should all care about violent death from terrorism, war and oppression in every country. But it is nearly overwhelming, and hard to know what to do. In this instance I have seen enough to recognise a genuine movement and one to which I can contribute a small amount. My small amount has been to follow the students, trying to understand and support their journey with comments and sharing. And this blog post. This week I also downloaded a song from iTunes, part of the proceeds from which will go to support the students who have organised Marches in all 50 states of the United States. The song is a ‘mashup’ (combination) of two songs from two major Musicals, ‘Hamilton’ and ‘Dear Evan Hansen’. The songs are titled ‘The Story of Tonight’ and ‘You Will Be Found’. The creative genius of Lin-Manuel Miranda, who wrote ‘Hamilton’, has penned this anthem called ‘Found Tonight’. Miranda and Ben Platt, winner of a Golden Globe for ‘Dear Even Hansen’, sing it and I have included it here for you to… contemplate.

Saturday, 24 March is the March for Our Lives day. I hope it is a peaceful but powerful day. In his Golden Globe acceptance speech Ben Platt said:

‘Don’t try to be anyone but yourself, the things that make you strange are the things that make you powerful’.

Let’s all find our strange and powerful selves, and strive to make a difference. Lots of little tiny powerful moments together can cause a big thing to happen. The students are showing us the way.

Share this:

  • Twitter
  • Tumblr
  • Pinterest

Like this:

Like Loading...

breathe in life

31 Sunday Dec 2017

Posted by Ardys in Creativity, Inspiration

≈ 17 Comments

Tags

art, creativity, inspiration, truth

IMG_8283Why do we need someone to remind us that our view of the world is unique? Why is it so difficult to understand that each and every life on this planet has had a different trajectory? Siblings can grow up in the same household and have extraordinarily different lives. We can stand side by side seeing the same view and appreciate very different aspects.

Maybe it is scary to think that others are different to us, even though we know that for the most part we are the same. We have the same motivations, though they modify with the individual. We have the same emotions, again, greater or lesser, from person to person. But it’s that teeny tiny little fraction of difference that we either focus on, and fear, or forget to celebrate…or find it necessary to express creatively.

Over a year ago I started listening to podcasts. I imagine most of you have been doing that for a while and I’m a lagger in this pursuit, but timing is everything in life. We discover when it is our time to discover. When the student is ready, the teacher will appear, as the wisdom goes. In podcasts I have found a great resource for inspiration at a time when I wanted to make some changes in my creative practices. One of the best quotes, among many excellent ones I’ve heard is…

IMG_8026breathe in experience, breathe out poetry –Muriel Rukeyser

A friend of mine says to me that the art I make is as a result of ‘having a life’. The first time she said it I knew it was true, the way you recognise truth by feeling it in your heart, rather than thinking it in your head. But this recent quotation was a beautiful reminder. And so if we breathe in our experiences, and we wish to be creative with them, we can breathe out whatever art we want to make. And it will be unique. No one else can replicate it. We can strive to be the very best version of ourselves because no one else can do that.

As a result of my creative quest and podcast listening, I began a new drawing practice. I can only say to you that the previous way I had of drawing seemed to impede my self expression. Perhaps I had not practiced enough, but I was bored with trying it that way. And so I thought I would begin again, as much as that is possible.

I want to draw more childlike, I have decided–from my imagination, playful, and relaxed.

 Picasso said…

It took me four years to paint like Raphael, but the rest of my life to paint like a child.

Having actually seen a painting by a teenage Picasso, I can vouch for the fact that he was a classical painter at a very young age. Most people don’t think of his work in that way at all.

So for the year 2018, I wish you the ability to breathe in life and its experiences, and breathe out whatever creative expression you choose. It may not be easy, but it will be your unique legacy. I leave you with wisdom from poet ee cummings, who fought all his life to be recognised as himself…

A poet is somebody who feels, and who expresses his feelings through words.

This may sound easy. It isn’t.

A lot of people think or believe or know they feel — but that’s thinking or believing or knowing; not feeling. And poetry is feeling — not knowing or believing or thinking.

Almost anybody can learn to think or believe or know, but not a single human being can be taught to feel. Why? Because whenever you think or you believe or you know, you’re a lot of other people: but the moment you feel, you’re nobody-but-yourself.

To be nobody-but-yourself — in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else — means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting.

img_8478.jpg

 

 

Share this:

  • Twitter
  • Tumblr
  • Pinterest

Like this:

Like Loading...

be brave…

30 Thursday Nov 2017

Posted by Ardys in Inspiration, Life, Travel

≈ 25 Comments

Tags

Ireland, personal achievement, Travel

IMG_9593This year has not been all beer and skittles. Okay, there were a few pints of Guinness while we were in Ireland, but definitely no skittles. Of course, travel is only life being lived in a place other than home, so we can expect some challenges along the way.

My story begins five years ago. I had been diagnosed with breast cancer the year previously and it was my first year check up. The surgeon, with whom I had developed an immediate bond and trust, advised me to have a breast MRI as well as the high resolution mammogram. She told me at the time she only recommended this when she felt it was warranted due to the unpleasant nature of the test. I’ve written about this before, so I won’t detail it too much, but suffice it to say, she was right about the unpleasantness of the test. During the first MRI I had a panic attack. That was a first in my life. A panic attack feels like your body and brain have become disconnected from each other and are in a desperate struggle to gain back control; you can’t breathe deeply enough and you need to come out of your skin, all the while your brain struggles to make sense of it.

I knew from a friend of mine who had experienced panic attacks after having a detached retina, that they could come back at seemingly random moments in the future. I didn’t dwell on this idea, thinking that the main challenge would be for me to just return for subsequent, yearly MRI tests. That was a challenge, and thank goodness for Valium! A low dose taken only half an hour before the test, reduced the anxiety enough to establish steady breathing and relative calm. The rest I could overcome.

IMG_3488
IMG_3542

It never occurred to me that I would be on a tour through the Biltmore Estate in Asheville, North Carolina when the next panic attack would happen three years later! It was a large-ish tour group, which, despite the cool autumn weather, made me warm. We had finished viewing the top floors and headed to the basement…through a tiny, curved and enclosed stone staircase, with no visible end. Three steps down the narrow staircase and instantly I knew, it was not a good idea. Not wanting to go into full panic mode I looked behind me. Fortunately there was no one, so I tapped my husband on the shoulder and told him I would be waiting for him outside when he finished.

When he emerged, half an hour later, I was sitting at a table with a drink and only the memory of the horrible feeling remained. He said he was sure he could take me down to the basement to see the servants’ quarters by entering the exit, since there was no one else coming out at the time. In we went. Sure enough, it was interesting and I was fine.

You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, ‘I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.’ You must do the thing you think you cannot do. –Eleanor Roosevelt

The next time the panic welled up in me was almost exactly a year later, also in a large-ish group, standing in a queue waiting to ascend the Space Needle tower in Seattle, Washington. We were there with another couple and we had already been up the tower the previous evening, but the tickets we held allowed a second visit. The consensus among the other three was a desire to see the view in the daylight, and so we would go again.  (I am not a fan of high vantage points, usually preferring earthier details and experiences. I am also not a fan of crowds. At. All. That said, most of the time I do these things because I don’t want to retreat into a life of fear.)fullsizeoutput_3e6c

IMG_0490About half an hour into waiting I felt my old nemesis welling up inside me. It is not simply a feeling of  discomfort, it is an irrational terror that threatens to overwhelm. Knowing we still had a long ride up in a lift/elevator ahead of us, and also having already seen the view in gorgeous evening light, I said quietly to the group, ‘I will be waiting at a table over in the adjacent park area when you are finished.’ I’m not sure they understood but they kindly did not try to convince me to stay, nor did they make me feel badly after the fact.

During our self-drive holiday along the Wild Atlantic Way in Ireland this October, we came upon the Doolin Caves. We had the time to visit and it was a highly recommended stop, so we did. The only caves I’d previously visited were  in locations you could access from a more or less horizontal plane, and a wide opening, but just below ground level. They were not via a single door entry point, 210 steps in descent, (about 90 metres) down into the earth, through some very narrow passages…facts which I did not learn until we had paid for our tickets. I know.

fullsizeoutput_3e6d

Part of the Wild Atlantic Way coast near Doolin Caves

Did I say I prefer earthier details and experiences? Yes, I think I did…

I firmly believe that the Universe conspires its energies to create the lessons that will help us move forward in life. I was on the cusp of my next lesson. Gathering courage, while trying to remain calm, I awaited the start of the tour. There were only eight members in the group, thankfully. I convinced myself, if necessary I could come back to the top. Under instruction we all donned bright yellow or white hard hats. I tried to distract my anxious brain by listening to the entertaining banter of the guide. He explained to us how the men who discovered the cavern crawled through narrow passages about 500 metres to get into it the first time. Somehow that didn’t have the reassuring effect I was hoping for. Still, as we slowly descended, I tried to focus as he built our anticipation for what we were to see at the end.

About halfway down the descent, despite the cool temperature, my palms began to sweat. I found myself taking deep breaths while continually repeating in my head ‘you can do this, you can do this.’ At about this point I pushed hard through the urge to turn and rush up the stairs. In my mind I knew I was not really in any immediate danger. Finally, we arrived at the main cave. It opened out before us, revealing the largest stalactite in the Northern Hemisphere. It was 28 feet long and it was a jewel. It was a difficult lighting situation and so briefly I forgot my fear as I tried to recall skills to get decent photos with my iPhone (my only camera).

We carefully picked our way through a couple of other smaller caves. And then, what goes down, must come up! Only 210 steps to freedom. Legs, don’t fail me now!

Reflection of stalactite in ancient water below
Reflection of stalactite in ancient water below
Graceful folds belie they are made of calcium carbonate, hard as stone and thousands of years old.
Graceful folds belie they are made of calcium carbonate, hard as stone and thousands of years old.
doolin-cave-stalactite
28 foot long stalactite, Doolin Cave

Once in the open air again, I felt the enormity of my achievement. It wasn’t, of course, seeing the biggest stalactite in the Northern Hemisphere. The big accomplishment was facing my fear. I don’t know if this is the last experience when I will have to face this particular fear, but knowing I got through this one will empower me in future.

In the words of Elmer Fudd:

Be bwave widdoe wabbit.

(I’ll have another Guinness please!)

 

(If you or someone you know has panic attacks, I feel my experience of testing the waters in modified and less threatening circumstances has been key to dealing with this challenge. Also, try to surround yourself with loving people who will not judge or embarrass you if you experience an episode in their presence. xx)

Share this:

  • Twitter
  • Tumblr
  • Pinterest

Like this:

Like Loading...
← Older posts

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 711 other followers

Recent Posts

  • if I knew where I was going…
  • the slutmobile and the spider…
  • take a minute…
  • watching and the watcher…
  • all the weather and love too…
  • memorable, forgettable, edible…
  • a year to be thankful…
  • small things…
  • the waiting game…
  • just to be alive…

Archives

Categories

Meta

  • Register
  • Log in
  • Entries feed
  • Comments feed
  • WordPress.com

Instagram

No Instagram images were found.

Blog at WordPress.com.

Cancel

 
Loading Comments...
Comment
    ×
    <span>%d</span> bloggers like this: