the full leo moon at 4.30

I woke up with the moon shining in my window, through the curtains like the sun through my eyelids. The disorientation of a street lamp? Where was I laying in the world? I pulled back the curtain to connect myself in space and basked in the moon’s glare.

burning bright

burning bright

A typical 4.30 call to think, seemingly this is the best time.
I’ve given up fighting it.
I accept. I am awake.
The moon has called me and I will not resist.
So I stare back, open-eyed and look at the face, it seems to be smirking. Where’s the smiling man in the moon? I look harder, but mostly I glare back, fully opened eyes – this isn’t the sun, I can look without damaging my retina, although it feels like the sun.

I breathe, accept.
I stare back defiant
He smirks back.
I choose not to believe he is smirking.
A thought rushes in, connection.

When did I last connect with the moon? It is my job to connect with the moon, for the moon is there and doesn’t call me up for a date to connect.
But it did.
Did it?
I connect now. I breathe and let my mind rest.

The thoughts rush in
My beliefs
They are not true
I make it up
Based on some history and some stories of me
Am I?

I stare unblinkingly
I think love is all there is
I fill my connection with love

I feel my lids getting closer, rays of light emanate from the moon left and right.
Soon there are two moons and my mind wakes up, my lids magnetize apart and there is one moon again, obscured by the horizontal of the window.
I wiggle myself in space, move my hand from my head to heart.

Connect with the moon
I think only love

That is all there is

Connection arises, love

I think about my lack of connection at the moment with people in my life.
It is my doing I realise, the people are still there.
I have a conversation with the moon
Love is all there is

The face has changed
we send love to each other

I close my eyes sometime later, and I feel the oneness even now

full_moon

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this year, this day, this breath

 

it seems easy to get caught up in the new year’s resolution story
so, I set my intention at the woodford folk festival
I promised to remain true to myself and the journey –
this lifetime in this body,
this spacesuit on this planet

I am walking towards death
I have no idea how many days, breaths away, that is
a human made concept of time is just about aging,
getting closer to a non-living form

with each breath
I choose to be as present as I can
I continue to learn new tricks as my buttons get pushed
and I choose to “de-button” –
to watch the reaction in me as luggage on an airport conveyer belt

it’s not my luggage,
I let it roll on
let it go

this moment is all I have
this moment is all we all have

until that moment of death
I will live a humble life
I will continue to plant vegetables
I will walk the dog and myself,
I will love my neighbour, friends and my family

I am a creative being
an artist making glassbeads,
making art to tell the stories of the planet we live on
I will live each breath

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being self

“And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.” —Sylvia Plath

ephemeral at hastings point

ephemeral at hastings point

I started to ponder
when I finish being a student
I  am almost finished
the student exhibition finishes Wednesday
It was a great event, bit of a blurr,
a tad nervous, all the same energy
Nervousness, excitement,
but what does the body know?

a piece of paper
Diploma of Visual Arts,
2013 and my name somewhere
A year at TAFE, Murwillumbah
who’d a thought?

here, now
TAFE has been great
I have these amazing teachers
practitioner artists who teach,
they were off on residencies this year
in their school holidays

recycled perspex book (roadside find)

recycled perspex book (roadside find)

It s been an amazing, emotional year.
it’s the planets, we all know that
the greater beingness of us

Next year
I am going to go round two,
Advanced Diploma,
I have more to learn,
It just awakens the more me
I have discovered my passion for print,
I love sculpture since a long time,

I am happy to study,
doing what you love does feed your soul

handmade paper print emboss

handmade paper print emboss

political insert and story changes

TAFE
fits with family life
it’s local, 15 mins away
(uni is 4 hours return)
more expensive than Uni

I am what I am,
I am

Certainly
becoming
conscious

11. Keep showing up. Keep showing up to your canvas, to your novel, to your memoir, to your guitar, to your yoga mat, to the dance floor, to the floor of your closet, to the forest, to you bike, to your running shoes…Keep showing up to your craft—whatever it is—keep showing up.
thankyou
http://www.rebellesociety.com/2012/10/08/11-ways-to-make-your-creativity-explode/

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seafood lunches – ABAD, Australia

A Book About Death – Quick and Punchy

What an opportunity
oh, so last minute

6 parts plastic : 1 part plankton

6 parts plastic : 1 part plankton

A quick foray into international art
haiku for eyes

small scale art project
based on death which we all know
final is the state

5
7
5

seafood lunches

seafood lunches

using plastic as my media to talk about plastic
not at all complex really

oceans full of it
seabird bellies nourished on it
plankton with plastic in it

fish ate plankton with plastic in it
fish ate fish with plankton in it
fish ate fish that ate fish, that ate fish that ate plankton with plastic in it
eaten by a person

imbibing the homeopathic doses of plastic
ocean gyres
the soup of the homeopathic doses
6 parts plastic : 1 part plankton

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you will receive a body

I am sure you will have read the list that starts with: ‘you will receive a body’. It points out the lessons for learning whilst on this planet.
The lessons do not abate until they have been learnt and ticked off.
Then you receive another lesson.

To cut to the chase, it is surely about compassion.
Compassion for one’s self and for our fellow human.

A lesson I have been experiencing, being presented in many facets, is around bullying.

 It was highlighted by my recent trip to the Gallery of Modern Art (GoMA) in Brisbane to see the exhibition “My Country, I Still Call Australia Home: Contemporary Art by Black Australia”.

I loved it, it told a story I knew, but now I know more.
Racism is a very clear form of bullying, against someone because of their culture.

At my children’s school, I have been aware of situations where exclusion, being “pushed around”, name calling and disrespectfulness occurred.
I remember myself as a child being excluded. It is hurtful.

Having spoken to a couple of teachers, it seems a ‘normal’ growth stage.
I mean normal in that it is familiar, regular, across the board and it happens.
There’s nothing ‘normal’ about hurting someone.
And seemingly it has been happening for generations.
So are we stuck with it?

I watched an Austrian television documentary about the summer retreat island on the Donau River (Vienna).  A young, 9/10 year old boy was espousing his views of all the foreigners coming into his country. (An issue we Australians refer to as the ‘boat people’)

BoatPeople

Firstly, why does someone so young care about transit of people across the planet?  And secondly, how does he conceive to weave it with racist commentary?
That’s a rhetorical question.
His major role models have taught him.

Recently, Adam Goodes, a high profile aboriginal football player, (sport is what connects many Australian households) was called an ‘ape’ by a young schoolgirl.

Hermoine Grainger was bullied for being a mudblood.

Julia Gillard, as prime minister, was bullied for her hairstyle – prior to that no one cared for her hairstyle at all, surely?

Stop-Bullying-Girls-with-words-written-all-over-bodies-Jan-12-p112

The Australian Parliamentary system is rife with bullying as they attack each other with schoolyard tactics.

We are evolving.
We no longer stick children up English chimneys.
Although, a mere 6 generations ago, we did.

Black’s buses and white’s buses.
These days, American people can ride any bus.

At least women can vote these days,
however, not every woman everywhere.

Inequality due to age, colour, race, religion, sexual differences.

We are evolving.
Be compassionate.

All we all want is to be loved, to have clean water, healthy food and shelter
and to have that for our children
and their children’s children.

This planet is plenty big enough
treat it with respect,
live simply,
love your neighbour,
and all creatures on the planet.

polarbear on limited ice

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thwarted

Off to the Gallery of Modern Art (GoMA), Brisbane, to experience a 2 hour session with the curator and one of the artists of the current exhibition ‘My Country, I still call Australia home: Contemporary Art from Black Australia’.

A day out for me, feeling excited and full of potential.

I am a full time mother.
I am a full time student, studying visual art at TAFE, excited to learn some more about art.

However, just across the border at my closest train station, I am about to be refused a concession ticket with my student card because I study in New South Wales and not in Queensland where the rail system is.  I explained to the kind man that I cannot travel by train to Sydney because it’s over 10 hours south, so I was travelling to Brisbane.

I am still a full time student from the financial perspective, regardless of where I live.
No.
Ok, ok.

who cares what colours you have, beating and loving heart is all that is needed

who cares what colours you have, beating and loving heart is all that is needed

It is what it is and I reluctantly accept his authority. I do have choice, but i don’t want to miss ‘my’ day out, nor the indigenous seminar.
He is enjoying the power vested in him, behind his little glass counter.
I pay over double student fare prices and go to the toilet and talk myself half way calm and attempt to laugh at myself for the ridiculousness of feeling prejudiced against.
I am going to see the art of the people who have been prejudiced against since 1770. Put it in perspective woman.

So I let it drop (ish) and get on the train. Cutting it fine, because I will arrive at the time that the session begins. Three stations out from my stop, all the passengers are informed that the electricity is down into Brisbane and we will be stopping until repaired. Naturally, the repairs take way long and I feel myself re-agitating. I write, as talking to one’s self on a crowded train reminds me of my judgement of people who have done that.

Eventually, after the passengers connecting to the airport have been removed to other arrangements and other passengers, who decide they can manage better on their own, alight, the train begins its slower journey into Brisbane. It is now an hour later. I have missed half of the presentation and need to find my group who are already within the gallery.

The curator Bruce McLean introduces and interviews, Dale Harding, an artist from the exhibition. Dale uses found objects to tell his story, the stories that he has been told by his grandmother. These are not happy stories, but it is what happened.

Dale Harding,  2009, unnamed,  lead and steel wire, QAGoMA

Dale Harding,
2009, unnamed,
lead and steel wire, QAGoMA

Early in his introduction of himself, Dale asks for our support of aboriginal artists, to be able to tell the stories, to continue the work that needs to be done, to awaken us to the stupidity and atrocities of colonial Australia, the past of this country.

Indigenous Australians are 2%. We talk about being multicultural, but we cannot even accept our own nation’s culture. We still do not support our original culture. Do we know how? And if we do, why are we not creating change? Why is the health of our indigenous population nowhere near close to the health of non-indigenous Australians?

humans on this planet

humans on this planet

I put myself temporarily in the skin of his grandmother and I am sad to the core. I have no idea. She has however, been instrumental in supporting her grandson, Dale, to keep the history alive. I found his work beautifully tragic. It is a part of many tragic stories that is the history of black Australia.

Go see the exhibition and see with your own mind.

 

 

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it is what it is

be accepting
as if you had chosen it.
in reference to suffering

suffering is not accepting what is
suffering is a ‘natural’ state, we all do it.
it seems weird, but it is also my teacher
Eckhart Tolle talks a lot about these pointers
to awareness

the biggest learning today, while making beads – I love to do Tolle when I make beads – meditative process and listening.  I was learning the part where the ego attempts to strengthen its position through holding fast on an idea or belief. It gains strength from holding its ground/ defending a position.  do I have to be right?
do I need to defend a position?

my daughter would prefer to strengthen her ego’s sense of self.  she’s young, it is her rite to journey her growth. Her timing. do I have to be right? i don’t contradict her

this is it, until eternity
scraping back the old ideas/beliefs
eternity of letting go
it is what it is

Image

the eternity of now

“Each of us has his own rhythm of suffering.” –  Roland Barthes

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