oh, hello!
"When the world wearies, and society ceases to satisfy,
there is always the garden"
Minnie Aumonier
I read this quote the other day. Wrote it down straight away. So I could keep remembering it. So so true for where I'm at right now.
Spring is here. And it's lovely lovely.
My blog stats are down. I don't blame you all. I'm not here much either. Thanks for keeping on coming. Just putting little toes every so often into blog land, or pinterest world, or any other sort of wonderful place in this big web is hard. You need to be here often, have endless moments to loose in it [which includes solid decent internet connection + electricity. I'm currently watching the little battery icon on my computer shrink while I scurry to do the few things I can.]
My dear dear friend who lives in NZ, [who I went to visit in January - and haven't spoken to since!] emailed me the other to say a person shouldn't be this hard to contact is this day and age.
I'm missing so much by being away from this online community. But I'm gaining so much by being where I am. Sitting in the garden. Watching the snowpeas get bigger, and the calendula flowers bud and start to bloom. And sitting with my family at the table searching through the bird book, and mimicing bird calls and talking to the birds. And setting up tents in the yard. And walking through the forest, drinking cool refreshing water straight from the creek. Watching the sun each day as it creeps across the sky in it's arc, each day in a different spot than yesterday, rising and setting at different times. Noting all this in my head, my memory.
*The 'hello' button sign is from a shop counter in Byron Bay, on a rare night out with my sister and niece to see an exhibition opening.
All photos taken with my phone - the real camera isn't seeing much action lately. Mainly due to the annoying aspect of then having to process all images through the computer.
Also, just in case you wanted to know. I'm working {slowly} on a new range of things. Lovely things to be ready in time for a market I'm organising at the local art gallery for Christmas time. I'm aiming to get some up on my new website [let me know your thoughts on it!!] in time for Christmas postage - if you're interested.....
my journey in Peppermint Mag
The latest issue of Peppermint Mag has a little story on the journey I took, earlier this year, to New Zealand.
I had the pleasure of writing about my amazing week-long workshop with India Flint, wandering in fields and forests. Sometimes when you experience something you are just there, and sometimes you have time to reflect about it. Sometimes you write about it. But very rarely do you get to publish it in such a beautiful magazine, where your own personal journey is as important as the inspiring artist you are spending time with.
I am especially proud of myself for not only having written the words, but also being able to produce some photographs that Kelley (Peppermint's founding editor) thought worthwhile to print. Little things like that just make me smile with pride - you know what I mean?
If you haven't heard of Peppermint yet, then where have you been living for the past year! Peppermint is first and foremost an eco fashion magazine, where the design and content and quality sit perfectly alongside the green and eco credentials. Where being green isn't enough - you also have to be pretty amazing at what you do.
I love that despite every single obstacle that has jumped in front of the Peppermint team, they have continued to stick to their ideals and not succumb to the easy way out. Often, when situations prove to be long, arduous, difficult, even sickness-inducing, most people slip on the original reasons they started something. They allow other things to take over, they go the easy way. And, really, I'm not saying this is at all bad. Sometimes that's the only option - it's a hard world out there for those of us trying to run our business, let alone in an ethical manner.
All credit to Kelley for sticking to her green thinking in every way. Peppermint is the only magazine of it's kind - self published, water-less printing process, recycled paper, every single advertisement you find in the magazine is held to the same ideals and ethics as the articles. I so appreciate that when I read the magazine, I know that I can trust that every single page (articles + the absolutely necessary - in terms of actually making some sort of survival) to fit within the parameters of being eco, organic, fair trade, local, and/or ethically made.
Every single part of Peppermint Mag is made with heart. From first to last page. From the many countless hours sourcing the best and greenest of fashion and beauty (and all the rest!), to the dedicated weeks putting the artistic talent into the gem that Peppermint is, to the tireless days sending your little mag right to your hand.
These are just a few reasons I feel extremely privileged to be part of Peppermint, if only in such a small way.
Subscriptions to Peppermint start at only $44Au per year. What a small investment to spend on your green fashion future. Or you can buy individual issues over at Leeloo (including back issues), or ask your local newsagent.
And, if you think that you're not into fashion, well this mag is still for you. The in-depth articles are well researched and written - giving you info about sustainable fabrics and dyeing, organic yummies, art, music, homes, and many other beautiful toxic-free living. The photos and illustrations are beautiful, whimsical and simply lovely to look at.
a few things i know about......
{death}
i'm going to start this off by saying what follows is a late night ramble.
but all of it is true.
as far as my truth goes.
and also, before you're too turned off by the
death word,
do remember that life and death do in fact
i'm going to start this off by saying what follows is a late night ramble.
but all of it is true.
as far as my truth goes.
and also, before you're too turned off by the
death word,
do remember that life and death do in fact
revolve around each other.
need each other.
depend on each other.
exist within
and of each other.
that each inhale you take must be followed by an exhale
and back again.
one thing i have noticed about death, in the past few years, is that once you start noticing it and paying attention to it, you continue to notice it, to be drawn - as it were - to it.
{in some way similar to the way that when you become pregnant you suddenly start to notice all the other pregnant women, and teeny little new born life of babies. before you had your own life growing inside of you, none of those other tiny growing lifes existed. not to you, anyway}.
death is the same.
once you have had death happen around you {within, of, beside you. slip from your hands.grasp your hands tight} you seem to have a heightened sense of it happening to others.
and not only sensing it. but feeling it.
you are prone more to the feeling. the being open to that deep rawness. the gash it leaves inside. the clutching with empty hands. the half thought conversations that you can no longer have.
lately i have somehow been reading books.stories about death. of death. after. before. during.
i do not know why. for some reason i pick them up (from the library, or switch a show on at late night tv) and i'm drawn in.
i know, immediately, that it's there. to be thought about. dreamed about.
my heart torn out.
again.
and again.
all over.
for a new reason. but always.always.always the same reason.
the same death.
it's like a vague memory of something you've forgotten.
you want to ring.talk.call.write.tell something, yet you can't.
there's no-one to tell.
sometimes you forget that there's no-one to tell.
sometimes you even get as far as having the telephone in your hand before you remember that there's no-one to tell.
sometimes you stop yourself before you get that far.
but you still forget. question. remember. forget. ask again. remind yourself.
then look up and wonder.
did you dream it.
was it a death dream.
or a real dream.
or just death.
{life}
that flipside of death. you know. one with the other. it's the way it works.
spend all your life fearing death.
but what about fearing life.
or living.
or sometimes you stop fearing. stop remembering/forgetting.
sometimes you stop right in the centre of life.death. in the middle of the circle.
the eye of the storm and
you
just
are
alive.dead.living.dying.laughing.crying.happy.sad.forgetful.remembering.
{some stories* to read when you want to think about death include, but of are not at all limited to}
*these are simply the few i have read in the past couple of weeks. i will, of course, let you know when more as they come into my hands.eyes.mind.heart.life.
**of course this post is combined with photos of flowers and other such things of life and living and death and dying. of course.
temple in the sunroom
We do celebrate Christmas and Easter - but more in terms of family together time, and the swapping of beautiful, thoughtful and amazingly wrapped gifts. Or yummy organic, Fair Trade chocolate from the Easter Bilby. But we are not Christians.
We have many statues of Buddha in our home, and Ganesha - the elephant headed God. Our Buddha statues are from India, Thailand and Tibet. We have temple bells - that I brought home many moons ago from my overseas adventures. We burn incense and candles. But we are not Buddhists.
We talk to the Goddess. And ask for help. Sometimes we {i} silently pray to the Earth Mother - Gaia.
I suppose while I do not follow or practice one religion more than another, I do have a belief of something. Just don't ask me to tell you what that something is.
So, I think I do quite like the religion that we are making up. The ideals and ideas that we talk. The soft and quiet. The tidy room. The incense burning high to reach the Gods. The peaceful words and contented thoughts. The ancient language, the guarding of the temple from dragons and other such creatures. The temple artwork. The leaving it all, and packing away the icons and statues and turning off the music when life shifts to another gear for a moment or so.
I think, perhaps, this is as good as any other religion.
new corners
been moving things about a bit here.
fluff stirred up in corners, and resettled down somewhere else.
cupboards moved to that room
boxes pushed under there
things piled up here
and then
a
new
tower
for me to
look
and remember
and smile
about.
recently my aunt passed this piece along to me
made by the hands of my mother
made by
the hands
of my
mother
those perfectly formed
flowers
and
shapes
embroidered
then the sun
crocheted out and out and out
those rings of bright
colour
and love.
a corner,
for me
to smile.
**all photographed at night, under very low light conditions.