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if I knew where I was going…
Many times over the years Don and I have philosophised about golf being a metaphor for life. It is often uncannily so. Lately, I have been thinking of my journey with painting in much the same way. Some weeks ago I painted a small experimental piece, based on a YouTube lesson I’d watched. As I…
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the slutmobile and the spider…
It’s been a busy few weeks since I last checked in with you, promising to report more on my revived creative journey. In those weeks our 18 year old car needed some repair. Covid conditions of shipping to remote places like ours proved to make that a protracted process. It was our only car so…
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watching and the watcher…
This time last year we were watching large swathes of Australia burn. I rescued a little kangaroo joey, that sadly died a few weeks later, too. As we watched the very disturbing video of our country on fire and the animals and humans in deep distress, so began a year of not wanting to turn…
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all the weather and love too…
We worked our way through all the seasons in five days over Christmas. Three days before, it was pouring rain, which we badly needed and was an absolute gift. It was also unseasonably cool. My winter track suit even made an unexpected appearance one morning, but the high humidity had me changing again before lunch…
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memorable, forgettable, edible…
I’ve been thinking of you. Hoping the demands of the season are not weighing too heavily. With that in mind I have a few things for you to think about in between wrapping, baking and decorating–because apparently it is no longer good for us to multi-task. Last March, after the pandemic was declared but before…
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small things…
I spent the morning in a brain fog that simply left me feeling zombie-like. It was just the tiredness that accompanies fibromyalgia but nonetheless, immobilising. At 9am I had a nap. It was a dreaming sleep that removed the fog, if not completely restoring my sense of self. Restful and adequate sleep has eluded me…
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the waiting game…
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…
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reading, listening, thinking…
I have been thinking. Hard. Listening better. Reading deeper. The world needs to change, and I do too. I’ve thought about change from various perspectives through the years. Every time I moved states or country I changed. I can’t recall an occasion when this wasn’t for the better. I heard recently, being uncomfortable is necessary.…
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we have a life…
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…
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loving a sunburnt country…
This is not the return (again) to blogging that I imagined. I’m moved to write to whomever have hung on and to any others who might be hearing the plight of Australia’s drought, heat and bushfires that have raged for months. There is a well loved poem here, called My Country, by Dorothea Mackellar. Perhaps…
ardysez 