Feeling incredibly grateful for the work I get to do; painting cups and drinking tea with sweet Bridget, mama's work (this week especially the making of the advent calendar above ), rehearsing amazing Appalachian songs for 2 gigs in December, helping to organise child care for Rinpoche's retreats next year and then the more intense but but thankfully transformative work that k and I are having to put into our relationship at the moment. Diverse, flexible, creative and shared - text book Sagittarian heaven. I have managed to avoid full time employment pretty much all my adult life much to the chagrin of my family who have always regarded my alternative ways as somewhat worrying. There are times when I have doubted whether it is possible to live a truly simple life and provide a family with all basic needs, particularly early last year. For us, being out of the city definitely helps. I find myself less concerned about material things and more resourceful and content with the environment around me. I'm less concerned about my appearance (although if I had a mirror I may be more so)and what people think of me and my choices. The simplicity of our needs reflects in the work that we are choosing. I feel like we have the freedom to be much more ethically and creatively motivated. I know it's not everyone's idea of a comfortable existence; we certainly go without a great deal of comforts and convenience but I think we are more and more changing our idea of what those things are for us. I don't think we have all the answers and I don't judge anyone for the way they choose to live. I'm simply reflecting on this here life warts and all and it is good.

small things for wee people

we've all been making one thing or another this week, some things finished, some in progress. I love seeing Beau out there with his Dad and some tools, carving and drilling and sanding. I love seeing K finally having the time to get his teeth stuck into a creative project. The first one was a gift that he and Beau conceived and made together for C's 4th birthday, this wonderful sword. Beau has been fascinated with swords lately and I remembered reading in a Steiner Book that at this age children will find great strength and courage in the story of St George and the Dragon, where of course George rescues the princess from the dragon with his mighty sword. Fortunately no dragons have yet been harmed since the making of this sword (nor have any small people who seemed somehow to understand the symbolism with which the gift was bequeathed).

The knitting of a little vest for the wee neighbour is coming along after many unravellings. It is my first attempt at decreasing, shaping, sewing together...very exciting and I feel like the knitting world will be my oyster thereafter.



... speaking of little things for wee people, I found this beautiful dress in a local op shop whilst trawling for dress ups. It's so fine and delicate that I can't imagine who might wear it (a doll perhaps).



...and Beau and I made a fairy house today at the bottom of the garden which seemed the obvious place. It has a view over the trees, open fire and a hand knitted blanket. Available for weekend stay with optional breakfast. Sorry no pets.

come on baby light my fire....

The lovely Ms Hen, CB and BB arrived today from the West. We are planning a snow visit with them on the weekend. Neither K nor Beau have ever seen snow so we figured it may as well be now before we return to the Mediterranean-like shores of WA where there is not a snow flake's hope in hell of seeing a snow flake (although it did snow briefly in Kalamunda a few years ago I hear...) Ms Hen came baring gorgeous gifts (thanks again and to Tim's excellent thrifting eye). That apron is totally fabulous still with original tag from good old Boans department store which was an institution back in Perth's old days.




I've been having the odd freak out over leaving Melbourne and so it's good to be reminded of the good folk on the other side too!

Still reading the Divided Heart (see last post) and finding so much juice in it. One thing that most of the women Rachel interviewed seem to share is the ability to work very fast and be very creative and productive in the small chunks of time available in a day just "by sheer necessity". Mostly during their babies' nap times or in the wee hours of the morning before everyone else wakes up . Many of them talk about how productive and exciting those periods of time were in early motherhood; that the experience of early motherhood was so deep and rich and confronting and raw, they were compelled to create, sometimes in order to make sense of it. I'm wondering how it is/has been for all of you? Is that how you work? Was early motherhood like that for you?

If I think about my experience with Beau as a baby, I was so exhausted with mastitis and so absorbed with navigating the unknown waters of early motherhood and really it's only recently that I've started to think about sitting down to any kind of project let alone something as 'big' as writing a book or painting towards an exhibition, or recording an album. These are achievements that I find truly awesome given that unlike many of the the women Rachel interviewed, I haven't felt driven to do anything but get through a day with everyone fed and happy. But definitely I have been gathering seeds for the future. And similarly to those women, I feel that motherhood has opened my eyes and my heart and I feel so much more strongly or perhaps clearly about things that I couldn't really have expressed prior to being a mother; I feel everything more intensely. The primal act of giving birth and the reshaping of the psyche that comes of it is such a gift; in the way a Shaman has to experience a symbolic death and rebirth in order to fully step into the role. It's as if I've stepped into myself more fully since and so I feel I have things to say.

I've often wondered where is the fire in MY belly that so many people seem to have, that drives them into acts of greatness and beauty (or not!) and on into the next thing and the next. I do see it in the day to day events of my life; a drive to make the best of the mundane existence, to beautify it, make it meaningful. Rachel asked one woman something to the effect of "Do you try to perfect a life or a work?" I wonder can they be one and the same? I see in so many of us the deep commitment to our children; consciously parenting and endeavoring to do the best we can as an artist would in the midst of a project. Would I be satisfied to look back on my life and see that motherhood was my Magnum Opus? I think lately I am being more realistic and taking notice of the elusive 'thing' that I catch glimpse of; a shimmering something out the corner of my eye, something that wants to be caught but we are still just flirting with each other. It started to appear not long after I began blogging. I don't think it can be helped. If there's even just a smoldering coal of an artistic life in one's heart, it's obviously going to get fanned by witnessing the work and lives of women who are stoking their own blazing fires or at the very least giving them a bloody good fanning!

Frock on Friday and Wake up Wednesday

Mostly my post titles are to amuse myself. Can you tell?
A frock so 'purdie', care of The Sartorialist ....


On Wednesday evening I went along to my friend Rachel's book launch; see over there to the right, The Divided Heart; Art and Motherhood, (a series of interviews with well-known artist-mothers) which I have already started to read and am finding it very inspiring, encouraging, and deeply resonant with my own wish for both art and motherhood to co exist in me without conflict. The launch was supported by friends and family who are all amazing, talented, devoted parents/artists. I came away feeling that something in me had been launched; harshly, like a bottle of champagne across my face! But necessarily so. I had yet another good cry; some more waves to wash off the built up crap on the surface and break open a bit more of what lies beneath. I found all sorts of stuff down there including of course the attitudes of my mother (nothing new there), greater compassion for her and myself, deeper appreciation for the people around me and the reminder that we will only ever benefit those around us when we follow our passion. I try to parent as creatively as I can. What's more naturally creative than conceiving, birthing and guiding a child through its life? But I still need to be reminded that it's OK to follow my own thread. So thanks be to Rachel for following hers and presenting such honesty and love.

The blessed outcome of all this is that I will now have regular weekly time to pursue my own thread of creativity, seeing as we are fortunate enough to have the flexibility for both K and I to do so now that he is working from home . It means more quality time for Beau and K, more family time for all three of us, and a shot at creating a lifestyle that is transferable to a small country town.

Later that night....

self portrait in bathroom mirror .......


didn't hurt a bit........

A Mother's Work

One of my favourite artists is Del Kathryn Barton from Sydney. Her work blows me away for so many reasons, for which, if you Google her and have a look at her work, you will understand. She just won the 2008 Archibald Prize and I love it that her self portrait "You are What is Most Beautiful About Me".....


is an acknowledgment of motherhood, her children and their importance to her life and her art. Some of her work is quite erotic and reminds me a little of Egon Schiele's paintings and drawings, another of my favourites. I'm really drawn to lines that are organic and 'imperfect' that appear to have not been corrected or premeditated. At art school we had a drawing tutor who had us do contour drawings for a year which were a revelation to me. Contour drawing if you haven't seen or tried, is just a technique where you look at the subject and not at your surface and draw what you see with one continuous line, so that the end result is bizarre and disproportioned yet often has uncanny likeness. It forces you to draw what you see rather than what you think you are seeing. I always struggled to get away from drawings that were too tight, to try to go back to the effortless, expressive images that children make. After doing hundreds of contour drawings without looking, I found I could render something very quickly whilst looking at the page now and then but without editing or thinking the drawing. I used to take my visual diary to cafes; hide it under the table and draw as many people as I could in the time I sat there. It was such a good time, passion and discovery. I didn't even do anything further with them it just felt good in the doing.

I'm not very good at giving myself time do things that are important to me, other than the love and commitment I put into motherhood which is almost enough on its own though I'm aware that when we feed ourselves creatively it feeds everyone around us too. I forget and I make motherhood a distraction from a huge part of my creative self, as my own mother did . I can so easily tell myself that it doesn't matter, that there will be time one day, whilst the voice inside me yells FORGET THE F*****G DISHES!!!

So thanks Del Kathryn Barton for reminding me and you too Esti and Fi and Bridge and all you other amazing artist mamas and papas out there. I'm going to get off the computer and draw something....

Dresses and Goddesses

In honor of it not being Friday here is an amazing Indian designer who I found through the Sartorlialist .
Anyway I've hardly been committed to regular Friday Frock showings. So have a look at Anamika Khanna and weep with joy.
There's very little in her collections I wouldn't desire had I an appropriately sized disposable income. It's not often I see couture that looks like something I could actually wear. She has some truly gorgeous textiles.

Other than that........ slowly making steps towards moving Westward. Organising some one to take over the choir, getting removal quotes, researching schools and rentals. Even just to tell people that this is what we are doing, is a big step. Beau has started asking on daily basis if this or that toy or item will be accompanying him to Western Australia. It's interesting that as usual, as soon as a firm decision is made, synchronicities appear. Many friends seems to know someone who is moving/has moved to the town we are particularly drawn to, and they all have great things to say about it. In my experience indecision creates chaos Everything shifts and converges when a choice is made and energy is put behind it. Which just supports my theory that ultimately it doesn't really matter what we choose to do (as long as we are acting out of awareness) Life will soon let us know if it isn't going to be possible.

K leaves on Saturday evening. Beau and I might join our friends at their family farm for a few days. I can imagine us mainly just settling into our own rhythm and breaking up the four weeks with visits and excursions. I might even finish the White Tara painting at long last.


I worked on her a little last week and it felt good for so many reasons not least of all because the recipient is due to give birth next month. This will mark three and a half years since she 'commissioned' me to do it! She will be the third Tara I will have painted. The first was Green Tara as a wedding gift for my brother and his wife;



and the second, the White Tara I painted as a kind of meditation leading up to Beau's birth.
I felt a very strong connection to Tara when I began practicing meditation, probably due to Rinpoche's connection to her and due to the amount of times K and I sang her mantras in our first years in Melbourne. For a while we shared a house with like minded friends with whom we did Green Tara practice every morning for a couple of weeks. During this time I had a number of lucid dreams in which I thought to sing her mantra in order to 'see' her. It was a very special time and not unlike the honeymoon period one experiences in the beginning of a relationship. These paintings have been a way of me keeping in contact with Tara at a time where physical practice is rare. She is the Mother of all Buddhas, of everything and for me she is Skeleton Woman too. May she also visit your dreams now and then.

Flash aahahh

In a tiny house there's not much space to swing a small terrier (see below) however when the beloved son says 'mama let's do some painting just right now' anything can be moved and squeezed in to satisfy such a glorious invitation. I know it's not just artist parents that get all misty eyed and proud when their kids take interest in such pursuits. One tries not to push it. Just leave a few things lying here and there. Take up a crayon now and then, draw something so cool they have to watch....
So finally a little spot for Beau to cut (today it was his hair...) and glue and paint and draw etc.



One scarf almost ready for wear. And new needles, and yummy wool begging to be turned into booties. I never thought wool would make such a sexy subject matter. I'm sure I'm not the only freak who thinks so.

Have you met Flash? Dear Flash my 'first born' turns 11 this year. He is almost as sprightly as the day I saved him from life in a dark garage at the Arts Market in WA. I'd been down south to find me a red cloud kelpie the week before that with no luck and then come home this day, my house mate and I with two yapping, traumatised terriers, and never looked back. Flash has traveled the land with me, boats, vans, cars, trains and aeroplane. Dorothy and Toto only slightly more feral we have been. Flash has almost had me beaten up, has won us friends and has had more freedom than any being I know. And to my heart's delight both Step Father and two legged son love him as much as I. Happy birthday my precious furry friend.

Lazy Labour day

This week Beau learned about the anatomy of a trout HIS way. These days it's me AND him up at the bench preparing dinner which is pure joy for us both. He is a whiz with the grater and can beat egg whites almost faster than I can. He has in the last month stopped talking about himself in third person. I remember a woman saying she was taking her 3 or 4 year old to speech therapy because was speaking about himself in third person and wondering for a millisecond if Beau would at some point need speech therapy (this was a year ago). As we suspected he just 'grew out of it' and frankly it was so cute we almost miss it. Ironic that we wait for our child to finally identify with 'I' at the same time we are attempting to let go of that very conditioning. And then ironic that we need that conditioning to understand that we are better off without it....(brain freeze)....

Beau and I have started doing more drawing and crafting which is wonderful. He's been so into his trains that all else has paled in significance. It has been lovely to watch him quietly master the use of scissors and hold up a shape and declare it a something. So much is changing in him. He is more social, more imaginative in his play, more conversational, more curious...what a joy to behold it all. This is the best job I've ever had.

Today we drove in air conditioned comfort far from this hot little house up into the mountains with M and his daughter B. We met Drew under a tree by the Yarra and there we stayed for 5 hours moving only to dip in the cool water or to run up to the shops for lunch supplies. It's what I most yearn for. To slow life down and spend most of our time surrounded by trees and birds and water and clean air. Such good friends these folk. Much laughter and silliness and even a game of hacky sack (the only 'sport' I've ever been vaguely adept at...) for the adults for which these days we have to warm up in order to avoid serious injury. K and I met in the midst of a hacky sack game. But that's another story.

I Know It's Only Rock 'n' Roll But I Like It......(A very long post about my brother and being Aquarian)

My brother G, is an Aquarian. He is 2 years younger than me. Our relationship has been based on a shared love of music and art and philosophical discussion and a shared sense of humour that has gotten us through puberty, our parents' separation, failed relationships, our mother's death and years spent on opposite sides of the globe. We went to the same Uni when we were in our 20's. We were even in the same Creative Writing tutorial for a year. I didn't finish my degree but G did. And he was as excellent a writer as he is now a wine maker. In those Uni days G wrote and performed some wonderful things and did some crazy things that would have made our parent's toes curl should they ever have caught wind of any of it. His motto was always that if something wasn't 'Rock 'n' Roll' enough it wasn't worth writing about. One particular Rock 'n' Roll event I clearly remember took place in 1987, the year I moved out of home to a kooky little share house in East Perth where my house sisters and I were doing some rock 'n' rolling of our own....One Sunday morning at 6am I hear a soft but rapid knocking at the front door and having the closest room I shuffled to answer. There stood my brother - 18 years old then, long curly dark hair, goatie, black jeans and boots, shirt and waist coat, out of breath and wild eyed and smelling of booze and tobacco. Sis, he whispered, I've just woken up next to _____-____ (daughter of close family friends!). I saw her at the club and we got drunk and now I've jumped the train line and the the billboard. It was so Rock 'n' Roll!!! Do you think she'll tell her folks? Can I come in for a coffee? Aaah I love him for that and many other memorable moments some I'm sure G would prefer me not to describe here so obviously I won't. But I will say that G has always chosen the Rock 'n' Roll way, ever since he was a babe.

ANYWAY! Leading me to this recollection are three things. My friend A in WA who knows my brother well and has never forgotten this story, recently wrote me that her 13 year old Aquarian son has the same preference for the Rock 'n' Roll Way. Our own three year old Aquarian too appears to be heading in that same direction. And then tonight, whilst sorting old papers I found this poem written by G at 18 or 19, in the height of his Rock 'n' Roll Hey Day. A poem which I have always loved because it is just so very much him and so very Rock 'n' Roll.

IN THIS GARDEN

In my garden,
this perfect place of purpality, my lover and I stalk each other.
In post orgasmic states,
quiet, the shudders subsiding.
We sing,
she sings to me in two hues of blues.
Almost in tune,
explaining theories of relativeness.
Of science,
some new voices inside my head.
Only to me,
she asks how far my mind can be stretched.
And kisses,
we make pretty stains on the sheets.
I speak,
celebrating the future of this evolutionary spill.
To tell her,
i tell her that 'all history is smitten with sinners'.
I love her?
how could you not love this.
In the evening,
this festive nightmare.
Of song,
strained through the cacophony of clenched teeth.
And drink,
drink a diminished fifth in no particular key.
And talk,
we speak in half time but in perfect pitch.
And knowledge,
we take sexual lessons from love songs.
Of this game,
love is a game where all secondary impulses are severed.
Of still loving her,
we could only love, we couldn't afford much else.
Her face,
what do you see when you stare past my shoulder?
Meaningless,
like a headless photo; eyes truly hold the meaning.
Our dress,
i like it when we play other people.
In style,
i like it better when we believe it.
For tomorrow,
one day's love is another day's child made sit behind the door.
The next day,
yesterday's love is tomorrow's lust measured by degrees of feeling.
Next week,
stripped to pain and built on pleasure.
This far,
distance noted by creases on the letter and stains on the stamp.
She leaves,
knowing that morbidity will see you through a period of crisis.
She returns,
leaves for a thousand years and returns with a history of ideas and a mystic tattoo.

In this same R n R tone, G makes his wine. VERY good wine.

And as for my dear K, he has returned home with bandaged arm, some pain and an arsenal of antibiotics and pain killers. For now I pack, I blog, I take care of my boys and in between I play my guitar. And I am quite happy.

New Year's Resolutions

Never was big on making NYR's but find myself thinking about all the things I'd like to do/change seeing as CHANGE is the catch word around here at the moment. May as well get a head start....let's see, I'd like to

1. take up Spanish again (so I can indulge in Almodovar without having to squint at the subtitles)
   
2. clear out my wardrobe and wear only frocks
   
3. make a doll for Beau
   
4. do yoga
   
5. kiss my husband more often
6. knit
   
7. finish Tara
8. more craft with Beau
9. Go to the cinema (haven't been for 3 years!!!! Aaaaaghhhhhh)
10. take lots and lots of photos
11. visit Rinpoche in Tuscany
12. have another baby (which highlights the need to make the most of 9. and prioritise 5. be VERY open minded about 2. and kiss 1. 7. and 11. goodbye for another 3 years if they haven't been accomplised by this point..)
    

A further word on frocks. I love frocks. I would wear them exclusively if I had the time and funds to seek them out (and glory be I may well have both come the new year!). Note to self and to anyone who cares to join me - Frock on Friday posts....an excuse to Screen (as opposed to Window) Shop if nothing else.....my frocks, other people's frocks, designer frocks, old frocks and new.....
I also love the designs by Pelle - find them at mioke. Scroll down and select sewing then scroll up and select pelle.
We used to have Frock on Fridays back in the Feral late 90's (feral for me anyway, I can't speak for you) - everyone joined in, even my dog now and then. My taste in frocks has changed since then. Now my frocks need to be clean and in tact but I've always loved a vintage frock especially the 50's and 70's variety.

Until Friday then....

time

My boys have gone off with a freind to the Steiner Kinder fair, leaving me here in bed to have a morning 's recouperation. I'm listening to this which I found through Amanda. Sigor Ros' music is so sweeping and emotive and otherworldly and has the same effect on me as the Cocteau Twins did throughout the 80's and 90's (and still now) - lifts me up into the ethers and bouyantly carries me to other realms....wonderful. This particular clip always has me in tears by the end - you will see what I mean. They capture the joy and the wonder and the fearlessness of childhood.
I just got off the phone talking with a very dear friend who is currently living a gypsy life of sorts, travelling around with his caravan, meditating, and about to head to India for the first time. He has all his time to himself as one does when one has no partner or family, and i always love hearing about his travels and his discoveries within and without. He has had an enormous year - a death, the breakdown of a realtionship, the emergence of personal demons.....Where am I going with this? I think because I have a day to myself I'm reflecting that time for self, brief though it is, as being precious and necessary. We have such big change upon us and the potential for a completely different life. We could buy a van and travel around the country. We could buy tickets to Europe and go and see Rinpoche next year. We could move to a different state and live in the country. I haven't really had time to contemplate it all, whcih is in some ways a good thing because it helps to focus on what needs to be done now, but I'm finding today, a sense of excitement as to what might be in store. I would like to leave my job and go back to a more creative way of generating income. A few years ago I had a small business recycling and dyeing children's clothing. Lately I've been having visions of rebirthing it and working from home again; especially as we are planning to have another baby. If we really are to homeschool, then we need to consider how we survive financially in a way that gives us time at home.

OUr beautiful boy. What a huge leap from two to three! The emergence of imaginative play and the ability to have a conversation; the joy he experiences now at being with other children and how far we've come from Days of Chucky (biting). Beau absolutely loves dresses. The more colourful and eloborate the better. His favourite is a little green 'fairy dress' that he must sleep in, dance in, and very pedantically cross the threshold from porch to entry hall in. He also loves shoes. Will do anything to try on a pair of shoes. I love it. I want to go out and gather the biggest dress up collection I possibly can. Boas, hats, tutus, jackets, masks.....and some for Beau too ;D

The Spiritual and the Material

In my first post I said I would upload a picture of the painting I have been working on (forever!!) This is White Tara.
This link has a good description of the Buddhist deity. I spent a good deal of time meditating and painting Tara throughout my pregnancy and I felt her presence at Beau's home birth. This painting is for one of our midwives and sadly she has been waiting for almost 2 and a half years!! I WILL finish it by the end of this year.
And on a far more material level and almost as devotional - my love of a well made, woolen retro skirt. The one above I found at a little op shop around the corner from our house (often I find fantastic hand knitted woolen jumpers for Beau too), and the one below was a Camberwell Market purchase last winter.
It was all those years of Scooby Doo as a child - Daphne's dress sense has definitely influenced me!