Monday, January 12, 2015

If earth walked into a shop.

How you going Earth? Are you all good?

You ok?

Do you need some help? Just sing out if I can help you with anything?

Oh you just looking….  No worries.

Nice bit of rain we just had. Need some more though. Really need that moisture to soak in. Do you think you could help us out with that? Because the weather seems a bit all over the place dude. I know your busy just trying to keep the air clean so us humans can at least breathe. And I know… we just keep on fucking it up and polluting the shit out of everything. Sucking our resources dry. We're really very stupid and don't seem to understand that we are annihilating ourselves.

Do you think we could stop turning on each other one day? Do you believe in that? Is that even possible?

I'm just not sure anymore. Once I did believe in us.

But, now everything seems a bit out of control. Like we are really losing the plot. I mean, literally losing our place. Destroying our own habitat. And completely crushing humanity.

Makes me really sad. It's hard to find the sense somedays.

Oh, ok, no worries, just browsing, sorry didn't mean to get all sentimental and deep… yep you too, have a nice day, thanks.  

Thursday, January 1, 2015

Document my life?

I still don't get it. The need to keep this space as an attempt to share my voice.
It seems ridiculous to continue but unthinkable to cease. So if I'm going to be here slogging out my thoughts from time to time, I resolve to rebuild it into a worthy creation, and a bit of a fresh start.

There are many things in ones life - A journey that is our own - Yet completely interwoven with others.

________________________

Be truthful to yourself.
Making you vulnerable to emotions.

Do things that teach you about the human spirit.
By opening your heart wide and loving hard. So hard.

If your in it.
Be completely in it.

Shed your skins.
Revealing who you are.

Free yourself from your preconceived ideas.
Then your children will be free.

Then you will be free.
__________________________







                                                Happy starfish wishing for 2015.

Monday, October 6, 2014

Shit it's october!


I had plans to post more in september. But that came and went and now it is October!

Anyway, we keep finding bird nests around the place. They present themselves to me one way or another. So I don't know if the universe is telling me something.. a sign maybe. Or, we are just finding bird nests around the place. Who knows. But they are very pretty and amazing little art pieces.

See!

This one is a swallows nest under the shed roof. And when I hopped up on chair and stuck my phone over it to take a snap to see in, I was delighted to see these speckled little eggs.







The one is made from Emu feathers, wool, horse poo, wattle twigs and blossoms. It blew down from one of the faraway trees intact and unused. But so spectacular!





So even though I missed september I found bird nests. 
Thats gotta count for something.

Seeya.


Saturday, August 9, 2014

Recycling stuff is so rewarding and can save our existence.

We have a little Hut/Studio in the bush near the wetlands in front of our cottage. You can click here to see its resurrection.

For the time being I have claimed it as a space to draw, write and paint. We have used only recycled materials and patched up holes with copper, mesh, microwave glass and all sorts of scrappy things. The kids painted all over the walls with me and it continues to be a changing canvas.















It's been a rather cold winter and to take the chill out of the air down at the Hut I asked Wayne to build me a tiny wood heater that I could keep alight with the sticks from the bush around me.

And he came up with this beauty….





Using a broken pressure tank from a pump and metal legs off an old cart. All of the parts are reused from discarded metal. Everything recycled, even the little wooden handle. Sourced from Wayne's collected scrap pile of goodies.



Here it is being installed with some salvaged tiles as the flooring. We had to burn her in to remove the paint off the tank and she was ready to go. Threw out great warmth and took little effort to get going and heat up. As my time spent down there is in short bursts it is perfect for a little heat, quickly.  We will put some old mini orb behind it and hopefully get it pumping a couple of times a week.

I know. Awesome.

Tuesday, July 1, 2014

Hear me, universe.


Heart flushed with heat. Eyes smouldering the colour of moss.

Hot coals inhabiting my chest. 

But my lips, are sealed like pale pink ice.


Flames in my throat. 

Burning the words, and singeing my voice.

Ashes afloat from a childhood. Softly drifting into reality. 


Memories lost on a sandy trail. 

Unearthed, later. Down the long and dusty track. 

Wearing away the journey. Leading to exposure. 


Shattering it all. Like arrows to the heart. 

I hear your wish universe.


Standing in the land of my raising, and all the untold stories. 

Peoples faces from long ago. Appearing in my new reality. 

A twist of fate. Bringing me from obscurity. 


Challenge me, I say. Expose my voice then.  

I'm strong in my place.






Monday, June 16, 2014

Have a listen.




                                               
 


Thanks Luca for bringing these dudes to our attention.
Really good stuff. x

Monday, May 12, 2014

Glass on the wire.

There is something so perfect and real about these photos that make me all relaxed and soft inside. Maybe it's the way the glass melts into the blue sky, or how it bends gently reaching out to nothing.




The way the wrapped metal supports, and lifts it up in the air. Giving, and allowing it to be exposed. But still safely held and secured with the wire.



Or the way the glass is transparent and strong. Solid and vulnerable.
Maybe it's replicating each of us, as the complex humans we are.



Feel free to use these photos for your desktop or screen saver…. or whatever. There of good definition so can be enlarged. Just felt like sharing something tangible today. 

And if you would like to see more of this glass and metal combo you can go to Wayne's Facebook community page.

Monday, April 14, 2014

Amiss - is my writing.


I'v tried to write here a dozen times, but however way I try, it feels so unsatisfactory. So I delete and try again. But nothing is working. The topic feels wrong, the substance seems empty and my style wanky. Everything seems pretentious and shallow.

My focus is lost. It feels a bit like flailing in the deep dark ocean, where the waves are crashing at me and I can't see behind me, or in front of me. And all I hear is the water rushing through my ears.

Even as I am writing this, I'm belittling it to a microscopic piece of dust. It has no meaning, no beginning, no ending. It's all over the place.

It feels like this blog is a luxury, that I don't deserve. That it is sub-standard, wasteful and pointless.

All I can do is be honest, and be me.

I am tired of holding it all close, but wanting to let it all out.

I am adrift, and can not unfurl my Ideas, thoughts, frustrations, art, future and past. Everything.

So. I'm taking a break, until I can get my shit together.






Wednesday, April 9, 2014

SCULPTURE


I made a Facebook page for Wayne. 

……and his sculpture.

So check it out here.





Monday, February 24, 2014

monday music.

Another head hangs lowly, 
Child is slowly taken. 
And the violence causes silence, 
Who are we mistaken? 




Let see, it's not me, it's not my family. 
In your head, in your head they are fighting, 
With their tanks and their bombs, 
And their bombs and their guns. 
In your head, in your head, they are crying... 

In your head, in your head, 
Zombie, zombie, zombie, 
Hey, hey, hey. What's in your head, 
In your head, 
Zombie, zombie, zombie? 
Hey, hey, hey, hey, oh, dou, dou, dou, dou, dou... 

Another mother's breakin', 
Heart is taken over. 
And the violence causes silence, 
We must be mistaken. 

It's the same old theme since nineteen-sixteen. 
In your head, in your head they're still fighting, 
With their tanks and their bombs, 
And their bombs and their guns. 
In your head, in your head, they are dying... 




Saturday, February 15, 2014

Am I here.

I write, I think.

I'm grasping on to all I have.

I see, I feel. 

Breathing in everything around me.

I adjust, I align. 

Staring at the road ahead.

Searching and seeking for grails and epiphanies.

Lost in the dust of survival.

See me, here.

I ask.

Do you see me.

Where is your spirit.

I am just a mote floating in a dark corner.

Catching streams of light.

Revealing my beauty in slow motion.

Do you see me.

Are you blinded by the light.

Thursday, February 13, 2014

We are nothing.

I have a thought.

Humanity is of no significance.

We are destroying this planet to the point where we will die.

Once we are gone. The planet will grow again.

Control gone, the abuse will stop.

It will thrive without us. No need for humans, for what have we ever given back.

We think we are so clever. Conquering, owning and monopolising.

But it's all useless. Insignificant and irrelevant to humanity.

We have no unity. No common ground, health and survival.

No strength of spirit.

We are as weak as piss.

I know it sounds bleak.

But there is a truth here.

Once we are gone, the pollution will stop.

Roads will crack, cars will rust.

Buildings shall crumble and creepers will climb.

Out of the earth the trees will rise, reaching for the sun and air with freedom.

Balance will return.

The Great barrier reef will repair itself.

Ancient forests will flourish.

Rivers will return to their natural flow.

And the trees.....

The trees will restore the balance of all.

Nothing will need protection, as the threat will be gone.











But I believe that we can change. Don't you?

If humanity finds its true heart and lets go of the control.

Lets go of the greed, the competition, the ego, the insanity of the life we are living.

Maybe we have a chance, of balance.

A chance, of life.

The only place for us is here, in this environment. We don't survive without it.

End of story.

We are nothing without air to breathe. Without water, shelter and a healthy planet.

We are nothing.

Every single piece of clothing, pair of shoes, car, lipstick, gadget, computer,

book, metal plastic, oil, wood, toy, medicine, drug, creation....

All of it, has somehow been sourced from this earth. We have taken a lot.

And the cost is our survival, not the earths.

Every human on this earth should have ultimate dedication.

To the balance of this life.

Including me.

And including you.










Saturday, February 1, 2014

Creative junkyard

A thrush is outside the bedroom window. Gorging on grapes from the vine that cascades down the side of the house. It flits back and fourth from the birdbath to vine. Grab grape, clean beak, grab grape, clean beak, back and fourth. I'm sure the thrush has had a hard couple of days too. Searing hot temperatures, mostly over 40 degrees and a fierce inferno breathing fire up on the range that is still loitering the landscape has rattled and worn us. We evacuated our home and escaped the smoke, heat, and threat to our lives. On the day we left the smoke pummelled into the sky and created a 12 kilometre high convection that bent over us with a menacing, but spectacular scene. We left everything behind as the ash began to float down and the sky darkened in our accelerated departure.

But now we are home again and I am wondering where the grey thrush went? Where did it seek refuge? I image it sat on a branch in the brittle shade and held on to dear life. Airing its wings to try keep cool while the wind thrashed the stifling heat around and the smoke stole the air. It looks rather scruffy and if I could read bird faces I would say that there is worry in its eyes and frown lines across its brow. In this moment I lay across the bed in a lulled state, the cooler on and quietness around me, but the thrush is jittery and alert. It hasn't seen me and so I continue writing this story in my head, being still and focusing on the words to describe what I'm feeling and observing. Savouring them to press into the pit of my gut and regurgitate them later into some kind of narrative.

Finally it sees me and eyes me straight up before darting from my view. I reach for the laptop and begin to draw the words from my creative junkyard, where nothing is ordered but everything is retained.

Fire is an element of this earth. Just as we are. We are both a product of nature and of forces combined. We witnessed that lightning strike the afternoon it hit the mountain. We felt it in our hearts and bones that it meant danger. Instinct is seeped deep whether we acknowledge it or not. And if you stay focused and tuned in it is a driving force to action, survival built on the memory cells of our ancestors.

We create our lives, our dwellings, our paths. Humans are clever, we make stuff. But we belong to nature, just like the thrush who is tuned to its surrounds, so should we be. We are full of thoughts and ideas that accumulate in our mind. And although we may think some of them lost and floated away forever, I believe that they are all in our creative junkyard, where they can be retrieved and then made into something different, something unexpected, unique and full of aged instinct that is created only by you.





From 25km's away, as we all arrived to safety.