painting a new world

Pen drawing of Sidney Nolan. By me, 2002.

Went to the Art Gallery today with Mum,

and saw some gorgeous pieces ~ especially a whole room of Sidney Nolan’s “Ned Kelly” series.

After we had finished looking at each, I took Mum to the centre of the room, and we turned, slowly,

seeing a whole panorama of colourful brilliance.

Sidney Nolan painting as hosted by NGA.

I’m quite tired, so won’t write much more ~ but will leave you all with this lil story I love:

“The Wise Woman’s Stone”

A wise woman who was traveling

in the mountains found a precious

stone in a stream. The next day she

met another traveler who was hungry,

and the wise woman opened her bag

to share her food. The hungry traveler saw

the precious stone and asked the woman to

give it to him. She did so without hesitation.

The traveler left, rejoicing in his good fortune.

He knew the stone was worth enough to give

him security for a lifetime. But a few days later

he came back to return the

stone to the wise woman.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said,

“I know how valuable the stone is,

but I give it back in the hope that you

can give me something even more precious.

Give me what you have within you that

enabled you to give me the stone.”

~ Author Unknown

Spread your joy with others less fortunate. Yes, there has been a great outpouring of support for charities, but we must try for a tsunami of love and compassion. Even if its small small small, it means big big big. Do it for what you believe in. We can change this world from our front step you know. I read this picture book today ~ Belonging by the amazing Jeannie Baker. And it showed how one person tending their city garden could change a whole street, a whole town.

May your New Year be wise and wonderful.



The tender Reveal

Trees today.

We are all unfolding


We are all in the process

of becoming

Unlooping our knots

shedding outer skins

trusting the world that we can show our inner world

We drive long into the forest, and it is regenerating from a firestorm of two years ago.

Black gums, young green undergrowth.

And we push, we move against old cycles, old trends,

We open hearts and reveal wounds that no longer need to be there

We find new spaces in our self

We find new homes that we cannot own ~ wilderness in our selves, and precious wilderness in the outer world that we can only visit, and breathe in its earthly depths

We are cherished by old love,

and cherished by new love.

Those that loved me from the very first breath and before ~ my elders, my parents.

And those that love me now, in this incantation, as I breathe as a living, conscious adult.

My partner talks with my father. My two men.

And I tap the words out. Sometimes they flow like a river, other times they halt and begin like a trickling creek.

Butterfly on the path. Today.

All I know is that we are only here for a small while.

And that things are so incredibly fragile.

The human heart, and the human condition.

It is is all an unfolding, a gentle swaying reveal.

small and big things

Lanyon Homestead roof…

Things have been good, really good.

I have so enjoyed the time with my parents ~ it has been the first time in living memory that they haven’t had to rush off at a hundred miles an hour to work and tend to the cattle and do farmer things. Instead we have all been enjoying long sleep~ins, languid breakfasts over tea, trips out to different places, then returns home to afternoon nibblies, wine at 3 pm, long naps, tasty dinners that are lingered over for hours, discussions into the night and sleep when we can no longer keep our eyes open.

We have been to beautiful places:

the Australian War Memorial ~ solemn, touching, beautiful. it reduced my mother to sobs outside (i think it’s a hereditary condition) and entranced my dad.

Lanyon Homestead ~ gorgeous old sheep property from the 1850s with original buildings. it takes me back to a different era, one of horses and carriages, fields and livestock…

The old stables at Lanyon. I would love to have met the horses that lived in those stables so long ago…

today we went out to Gold Creek Village, and found such gorgeous lil shops ~

a beautiful fine art store ~ with some works costing more than a new car… but all immensely inspiring nonetheless!

an olden day lolly shop ~ filled to the rafters with little morsels of goodness, some I haven’t seen since childhood. me, chris and dad lingered over the colours and the shapes before making our selections…

then we watched japanese ornamental carp in a pond.

I found a great new rainbow coloured mobile phone strap that I can put my security pass on at work… tee hee hee… I can’t wait to get back to work now just to wear it joyfully about my neck! 😉

Then we looked through an Aboriginal art store which was sublime, and a beautiful little gallery filled with morsels of artistic goodness ~ it was the front part of a house converted, and it was just divine! 🙂

We crossed a creek, and came across a little pile of shops all in massively old wooden cottages… an alternative book and cd store which i would love to go back to and a wonderfully smelling leather store filled with trinkets and lovely things. It smelt like a saddle shed ~ something very dear to my heart.

So yes… all these beautiful little places

And out of my immediate life other things touch me too…

A comment from Gail which warmed my heart so much… thank you Gail!

And… the Tsunami disaster.

Words cannot describe the loss I feel.

May Mother Earth hold you all close to her bosom, and balm your stinging wounds.



Nature is my Religion

The cathedral we visited today.


And Joy is Everywhere;

It is in the Earth’s green covering of grass;

In the blue serenity of the Sky;

In the reckless exuberance of Spring;

In the severe abstinence of gray Winter;

In the Living flesh that animates our bodily frame;

In the perfect poise of the Human figure,

noble and upright;

In Living;

In the exercise of all our powers;

In the acquisition of Knowledge;

in fighting evils…

Joy is there Everywhere.

~ Rabindranath Tagor

My parents arrived last night, late.

We stayed up talking over wine and left over pizza,

then today we trapsed about the countryside ~ to old and new parliament houses;

sinking tired legs into leather couches, marvelling at our town through the eyes of tourists.

Neither of my parents have been to Canberra before, and it is a blessing for them to be here.

It is a big movement for both of them to leave behind the farm and work and family to visit us, and have their first holiday in god knows how long. My father hadn’t been on a plane for 23 years.

So we found a cathedral ~ St Andrews ~ and we peered through its closed doors, touched a velvety fern, crushed lavendar in our hands as we wandered through its gardens. The perfect roundness of peaches hanging in their trees. The bright blooms of hydrangeas.

And I realise even in my sore legs and okayishness, how remarkable everything is.

How lucky I am for my parents to be here. And to have these tiny, tender moments with them.

Like at the National Portrait Gallery ~ I saw a painting of Aboriginal artist Albert Namajtira, and thought to myself: my gosh that looks like Jimmy Little, the Aboriginal singer. And my Dad walked around the corner, and said ~ hey is that Albert Namatjira! Gawd, that looks just like Jimmy Little to me! And it was nothing, but it was everything to me.

Blessings on all your days ~ each everyday, normalday, anyday.

Love and laughter,


And blessings on your night too. As I wafted into sleep last night I saw and felt Charlie my dog lying on my belly, and I knew he was bringing my brother Clinton to visit me.


Card made yesterday.

If, as Herod, we fill our lives with things, and again with things;

if we consider ourselves so unimportant that we must fill every moment of our lives with action,

when will we have the time to make the long, slow journey across the desert as did the Magi?

Or sit and watch the stars as did the sheperds?

Or brood over the coming of a child as did Mary?

For each of us, there is a desert to travel.

A star to discvoer.

And a being within ourselves to bring to life.

~ Author unknown.

Found in the beautiful “Simple Abundance” book by Sarah Ban Breathnach.

May you enjoy this festive season, with still moments aplenty.

This is something I struggle with at the best of times ~ to stop running, to stop treading water, to stop doing and filling my moments with “productive” things.

Instead to dawdle, to float, to start being, and to allow my moments to happen without doing.

blessings on your day today, as in all your days.