Year: 2014

Garden Floaties

I ate my cheese and tomato toastie in the middle of my backyard with the sun on my back. I watched as a couple of butterflies fluttered over the garden shed, and a crow flew over my head. The wind moved my son’s school clothes ever so slightly on the line. A pigeon kept on cooing. Not so far away, ants fraternised madly with a twig, as though it may come to life; its sun-dried leaves remained flat against the pavement. My body still felt heavy from a harsh run with Winter colds, but everything around me was soothing and ready to float. I looked up at our gum tree, holding my arm up to shield from rays, and the tree seemed to acknowledge me. “Don’t worry,” it said. “I will take care of you.”  

Longhand

Write every day, they say. I’ve been getting stuck into my beloved Jack Canfield, dealing with feelings that have taken me by surprise, reading my old journals and searching within. I’d forgotten about my internal pledges all those years ago to become a writer. It was such an unusual feeling to be reminded of how badly I once wanted it. For a passion that was embedded so deeply, how and why could I have let it go?  I think back to who I was back then, and I started to theorise that maybe it never got off the ground because it was all about the idea of being a writer. The sheer romance of it all. It would explain why I never submitted my work — well, I could count on one hand the work that I sent — but that doesn’t make much sense to me because I don’t submit my images for photographic competitions and awards as a photographer today either. I could also argue that perhaps I just wasn’t ready for submission …

Aron

I am in awe over my six ten Arum Lily bushes at my new place. (By the way, how long does one need to have been moved in to a house before the ‘new’ label gets dropped off? Anyone?) At my very first house that I bought back in 2002, I had a green thumb for a while and wanted to grow every plant species known to mankind. The Arum Lily was at the top of my list. My love ran deep for them and I even wanted them in my wedding bouquet, although they weren’t in season then. My twenty-something-self tried to grow an Arum lily plant but it didn’t flourish. I figured it wasn’t meant to be. Yes I was sad, but I gave up pretty easily and didn’t make any further attempts to grow another. Here we are, 12 years later, and I get to walk out into my winter garden and marvel at the Arum Lily’s delicateness and serious beauty any time that I want to. I’ve been very curious about signs that …

Togeth-ahh

It’s been a few months since I stopped shooting for Rip It Up, however this week I helped out with a couple of jobs.  On Saturday I was needed first at the Market Shed on Holland to capture happy people drinking wine as part of a phone app launch, followed by Chai Time at Bowden’s Cinnabar at around 9pm. Cinnabar is a dance studio that had been transformed for Chai Time, and I couldn’t find the venue at first. I tried to get directions at Jarmer’s Kitchen (a totally cool vibe there by the way — made a mental note to try that place out for dinner sometime) but the staff had no idea of the whereabouts of my destination. Street lights weren’t doing much and so the area seemed darker than normal, but eventually I saw a Chai Time banner spread across a high metal fence. There were hardly any cars parked nearby, and so already I was picturing myself walking into this studio seeing 3 and a half bodies camouflaged against a wall. I sat in my car for …

Two Dogs Behind A Sunbeam

We’d just left home and were on our way to Xavier’s school last week, when at the end of our street I looked to my right and saw an elderly man walking two Cavalier King Charles dogs.  I gasped. The morning light was beaming behind them, as though the rays were carrying them forward. Long ears swaying in time to their paws touching down on the pavement, a little rhythmic half-trot. So regal with their mini coats, and both so very satisfied. My heart swelled.  No doubt this owner must’ve already known how blessed he was to have these dogs by his side. Consumed by this vision, I had to acknowledge it. I quickly wound down the window and called out to him, a compliment of some sort.  The owner kept on walking, leading his dogs towards his mission. I don’t know if he thought that perhaps I was addressing Xavier rather, or if he thought it was best to ignore the weird lady who yelled out to strangers. Probably the latter. I let this …