Beauty amongst the weeds

New blog

2011-10-24T12:17:00.002+11:00

I have started a new blog in which to record life as it happens now but really to reflect the fact that I am moving into a new chapter of my life with the move to Sydney in a couple of months time.

Postcards

I will still hang onto this place which is so special to me - it will be the repository for images and thoughts arising from my visits back to the mountains.

x

Friendship

2011-10-18T15:58:00.000+11:00

In late September we went to Nelson Bay to spend the weekend with friends.

And today I caught up with Tricia and will get to see a lot more of her over the next few weeks, now that I have met some important deadlines and can catch my breath a little.

Her garden replenishes me at some deep level that I find hard to put into words. She replenishes me I guess - and educates me and continues to be my muse. We are planning a project together that will ensure that I will return to the mountains regularly.

Look at those three little pug bottoms!

We move to Sydney at the end of the year, or early next, depending on when the builders get the work done to the flat that needs doing.

Strange to think that I will be staring out at ocean views. Strange and good, because I have been very spoilt by the beauty that surrounds me here.

Whilst the dogs sleep in the sun Tricia talks to me about primulas and their history - taking me from Elizabethan England to Oregon to France and here to the mountains. She asks me to photograph this rare example.

We sit on the verandah and look at the garden and talk and make plans. I relax for what feels like the first time in months.

A blossomy walk, Eurolush and RUOK

2011-09-15T16:23:00.000+10:00

Walking today with Jack and enjoying the blossom and sneezing with joyful hayfever, I was reminded how much I miss Eurolush and Tex. C'mon E - we miss you so - I would read your blog to the moon and back.

Life continues with lovely unexpected successes for our kids and birthdays and plans for the move to the city.

I count my blessings. I know too well how life can also trip you up and leaving you gasping in pain.

I am deep in Oral Histories related to the grievous events of September 11 2001. It is only now, ten years on, that I feel I can read them. I find myself wincing though and the tears welling.

Ian McEwan wrote in The Guardian on September 15th 2001

If the hijackers had been able to imagine themselves into the thoughts and feelings of the passengers, they would have been unable to proceed. It is hard to be cruel once you permit yourself to enter the mind of your victim. Imagining what it is like to be someone other than yourself is at the core of our humanity. It is the essence of compassion, and it is the beginning of morality.

Today is RUOK day here in Australia. The essence of compassion, the beginning of morality - is to check in with someone else to see that they are OK.

Love to all.

Our home

2011-08-22T17:35:00.000+10:00

I promised Bec, (a blogging friend of many of ours - famous for her Root Shoot Marry posts), that I would show her some photos of our mountains' home. They are pretty bad quality but you will get the idea. We are in the process of painting the walls inside white and staining the floorboards. The floorboards were done very badly and so we have called a halt to that for the moment. The outside of our house, which was painted baby pooh yellow, is being transformed by being painted white with light grey and charcoal grey accents. I will post a photo when we have a nicer day.

The room above has always been called the playroom. For years it was filled with baskets and baskets of toys. And crap. Those baskets in the corner are the last baskets of toys and footballs we have left.

Almost out of sight is a red Amish barn star I found locally - it is meant to ward off evil. Or something like that.

We renovated the kitchen four years ago and I am still very happy with it. We bought the stove before we renovated and it is still going strong. It used to sit in the fireplace you can just see. You can also see my shopping. And the time I took the photo. And the vase of ranunculas. And one of Margot's red boots which I have just been informed is sitting there waiting for me to clean it because she stepped in dog pooh.

Some of you have already seen a photo of our new backyard on Facebook. There is the gas heater (which I call Greece because when it is lit I can almost imagine the warmth it gives off is similar to being in Greece).

And the red bucket filled with weeds which I am too lazy to deal with. To the right is our verandah, my favourite part of the house, which is being painted and which again I will post photos of when it is done.

This home of ours is truly a haven. I have said before that it has resisted many storms - both physical and metaphorical. Some peaceful spirit quietly drifts in and out of her walls and strokes our foreheads gently and calms us with its presence. The house was built over a hundred years ago by a sea captain and has something of a boat like quality about it - it creaks and groans and then with a sigh settles back in its moorings and soothes us once again.

Inside my head

2011-08-05T14:56:00.000+10:00

Unseasonably warm weather here in the mountains and so the Spring flowers are emerging. As is the daphne which, planted in two oak barrels in our back yard, is scenting the air deliciously.

Spent a wonderful day with Tricia down in the Southern Highlands choosing lots of plants and then planted them out yesterday. (My muscles are aching today). She remains as feisty and fascinating as ever.

After much backwards and forwards discussion J and I have agreed that Margot and I will move down to Sydney at the end of the year. Joe goes to boarding school next year and our family would be too fractured if we remained here. The universe smiled on us and we have got Margot into a wonderful school and so much of the anxiety of such a move has gone for me. Over the years we have discussed moving back to Sydney but grief got in the way. The mountains have contributed greatly to my healing and we will keep our beloved home here (letting it out as a holiday home so that we can help finance life in Sydney). I am actually excited and that is wonderful.

My friend Alison and I met with New Holland Publishing who are publishing our "Starting out with Fruit and Vegetables" book. This seems to me to be a saturated market but they commissioned it nevertheless early this year and Alison has done a fantastic job writing it. Good thing it isn't me writing it - I may be able to photograph a garden but am not too good at growing one!

Wedding season is looming and I am going to be kept busy by it. That is to say - I have weddings booked in Sydney, Adelaide, Melbourne and Orange and though by full time wedding photographers' standards that is ridiculously few - it is more than enough for me.

It is possible then that this blog may go a little quiet for a while - or not. Otherwise I am actively back on Facebook now and do love it for its immediacy, conversations that veer this way and that and the laughter. See you there.

Inside my Head

2011-07-09T12:02:00.002+10:00

The photos were taken on a recent visit to the city. I love how Margot is the only one actually taking in the view.

J's father died peacefully, J's mother by his side.

Melinda wrote the most beautiful post recently. And sent me a fantastic CD of music which I play all the time in the car.

I have a yen to learn how to play the ukelele. A yen is what it will remain.

Plans are afoot to launch a project with Eden. When the time is right and the planning is complete I will write more about it. It's a "giving back" kind of thing.

Not alot happening on the photography front. I have three weddings booked for the Spring and am carefully considering where I want to go with my work. The voluntary blogs that I write have been terribly neglected and they are where my heart lies so I need to think on that.

I am spending more time on Facebook and Pinterest whilst trying to moderate my time on the computer.

"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover." Mark Twain

Beside my bed (aka Inside my head)

2011-06-20T13:28:00.000+10:00

Beside my bed, on a bedside table crowded with teetering piles of books and magazines, I have a collection of little statues who watch over me while I sleep. I found this angel in a tiny shop on the East Coast of Tasmania - he comes from Pisa in Italy. There were several similar angels but I loved the expression on his face. Although he is praying he looks as though his attention has been caught by something elsewhere - that slightly distracted expression is one I believe I have on my own face almost permanently.

This happy boy is from Shanghai - I think I have posted a photo of him before - I bought him when I was there a couple of years ago and his colour and his smile never fail to give me a lift.

I found this last little figurine in an antiques shop in Katoomba. I am always moved by him. I cannot tell if he is weeping or praying or both. He is roughly carved but very smooth to the touch.

A few days ago I gathered up the kids, picked up Will from school in Sydney and flew with them to Brisbane to see their grandfather, J's father, who is extremely ill in hospital. I found it confronting on many levels, not least because it brought back a flood of memories of my own father's death in another hospital many years ago. Despite the best efforts of medical staff, hospitals remain dreary places to me, even those where my children were born.

My father died of a brain tumour which rendered him devoid of speech in the last weeks of his life. We were able to talk to him but he could not respond. I have told the story before of how sheer love (certainly not physical capacity) allowed him to reach up and cup my mother's face in his hand when he briefly awoke once in his last days. I have sometimes wondered what it might have been like to have him communicating with us in those last few days, his mind still alert and aware.

Now I have seen what that is like and I am grateful that our experience was as it was.

It was tough on the kids seeing their grandfather so frail. It did though give me the opportunity to discuss death and dying with them - a topic we in the West are so uneasy about talking about. I kept it simple.

And I saw a precious moment where a gangling almost 15 year old drew his little sister, her face all blotchy with tears, into his arms and gave her comfort.

Inside my Head

2011-05-31T12:28:00.000+10:00

1. I was doing some blog reading and found a link to a blog called Zen Habits and a post about decluttering. The theme - that accumulating clutter is both hanging onto the past and fear of the future - really struck a chord and so I spent yesterday morning in the kitchen, decluttering.

Mindfully.

Hope I can do the same for all the other rooms in the house that require the same attention.

2. Young Joe scored five goals for his team on Saturday.

A kid on Monday declared that Joe was a hog of the ball (ergo that is why he scored the goals). Joe is many things but he is not a hog of the ball. He is devoted to his soccer and spends many afternoons practising until it gets dark. He is joint captain of soccer for the school and takes this role seriously. I wrote to the school yesterday because I could not stand by and let this kid( a kid who has quit the team because he thinks they are losers and come back again) take away from Joe's pride in his achievement.

It has led me to think about and discuss with Joe the balance required between modesty and celebrating success, both his own and those of other people. Such a fine line and we have such a strong culture here in Australia of hero worshipping sportsmen and women but god forbid they grow too big for their boots!

3. I was watching one of the kids raise the Australian flag on the school flag pole. It brought back a sharp memory of being in the Girl Guides and having to raise the flag for some official ceremony. I was so nervous of doing it incorrectly I was almost sick. The little things that bothered me as a child.

4. Today is cold and very wet. In between the thunder of the rain on the tin roof there is the blare of "Toy Story" on the television, as a little girl nestles under a blanket and nurses a sore throat and drizzly nose. Many trees are bare now and a thick mist curls around dripping branches.

5. Perhaps because of the weather I am feeling vaguely irritable and out of sorts. Probably I am catching something from the little girl. Nothing that a cup of tea and a quiet read in front of the fire won't sort out. Or a bit of crochet!

Inside my head

2011-05-16T12:42:00.001+10:00

1. She grows more beautiful every day. She remains kind. Although there is one little girl in her class who she could cheerfully strangle. Other than that then, she remains kind.

2. This is Eden. Eden is a blogger too - her whole blog is worth reading but I really wanted you to read this post. I tell her I think it is like a modern day Desiderata. Eden lives near me, in the same village, and the story of our meeting is one of queer and lovely coincidences. One day we will write about it.

3. As I sit here at the little house thinking my little thinks, the elderly neighbour over the back fence is pegging out her washing to dry in the autumn sun. She is talking to someone and that gentle conversation and the sound of a lawnmower and a small plane overhead and the birds singing is the soundtrack to my day. In between these lovely sounds is the silence of a cloudless blue mountains day.

4. I know many of you clicked over to RRSAHM when I linked to it some time ago. Although Lori continues to grieve she has moved away from all the trauma and is living by the sea with her little ones. Someone commented on her most recent post that if we fill our lives with too much stuff we are in danger of becoming a human doing rather than a human being.

I will think on that a lot I know.

5. I wanted to mark the passing last week of Sarah from Spruce Hill who lost her long battle with breast cancer. She was such a gentle presence in my blogging life and I will miss her.

The Winner

2011-05-09T10:58:00.002+10:00

I did the random generator thingy which told me comment number 8 was the winner.

That would be you my Melinda!

So email me your address and a series of photos will be sent to you...

back soon

xxx

The Purple Noon's Transparent Might (and a giveaway)

2011-04-28T12:12:00.001+10:00

Recently I was at a park above the Hawkesbury River not far from where Arthur Streeton painted the above painting - with it's incredibly evocative title.

Here are my own photos...textures from Flypaper Textures...

I wanted to say thank you for all your (as always) amazingly supportive comments from my last post. And to acknowledge that it has been (over) four years since I started blogging.

I'd like to give away a set of four photos - one from each season - to be sent anywhere around the world - if you normally lurk here - then delurk away!

Thank you again my lovely friends...

Inside my head

2011-04-22T16:48:00.000+10:00

1.Some tooting of my own horn

I have had quite a lot of my photos appear in the ABC magazines publication "Organic

Gardener." A couple of covers

And the opportunity to photograph people like Peter Gilmore, owner and chef at what is regarded by many as Australia's leading restaurant, Quay. He is absolutely lovely by the way, for those of you familiar with him from Masterchef.

A yin yang bean from Peter Gilmore's own garden

This was amongst a series of shots at the two hat restaurant Lochiel House for Organic Gardener.

The wedding that I shot out at Orange was accepted by PolkaDotBride and is also featured in the current edition of Madison Magazine.

The thrill of seeing my work in print like this is amazing.

I am also busy photographing vegetables (!!) for a book which has been commissioned on growing vegetables (of course) in your backyard. A very clever friend of mine is writing the text - this work came about through the voluntary work which I do for Hawkesbury Harvest - which just goes to show that doing something for free is not a cardinal sin! Karma, people, karma.

2. Autumn is here and is, as it always is in the mountains, outrageously beautiful.

3. There is a French fellow who lives down the road who specialises in fixing up old Citroen 2CVs.

Until it died an embarrassing death on the Shepherds Bush roundabout in London, J and I drove a blue one of these for a time. It was very cute. We, however, looked ridiculous - two giant Australians crammed into a tiny car.

4. Easter is almost here. There will be 21 of us for lunch at our place. Good food, good wine and an Easter Egg hunt - the adults enjoy the hunt almost as much as the kids I think.

5. I am learning a lot about Schema Therapy. Essentially this therapy revolves around what was going on in your life as a child and how that impacts you as an adult.

Whilst I started going to J's therapist as a way to help him and us, I am absolutely fascinated by what I am learning and how helpful I think it will be. We had a saying in recruitment that past performance indicates future behaviours... not too different from what this form of therapy is about.

Happy Easter everyone.

Joy

2011-04-06T12:39:00.000+10:00

I was reading a friend's blog and happened to see a link to my old blog in her sidebar. I clicked on it thinking it would come up empty and it largely was. Except that I found this which I had written almost exactly two years ago ..

joy will return - it will return

it will seep through the crack'd arteries of my heart

it will blaze in my eyes.

it will shine in my face.

it will be reflected in the faces of my children.

will

mine.

Slowly, quietly, happiness is returning. Contentment even. Blazing joy? Not quite. That's Ok. I am older, wiser. My hair is so much greyer! My face is more crinkled and lined. My heart is well patched.

I am living proof that time is indeed the best healer of all.

But wait, there's more...

2011-03-23T14:13:00.004+11:00

Several years ago this did the blogging rounds...

I am from _______ (specific ordinary item), from _______ (product name) and _______.
I am from the _______ (home description... adjective, adjective, sensory detail).
I am from the _______ (plant, flower, natural item), the _______ (plant, flower, natural detail)
I am from _______ (family tradition) and _______ (family trait), from _______ (name of family member) and _______ (another family name) and _______ (family name).
I am from the _______ (description of family tendency) and _______ (another one).
From _______ (something you were told as a child) and _______ (another).
I am from (representation of religion, or lack of it). Further description.
I'm from _______ (place of birth and family ancestry), _______ (two food items representing your family).
From the _______ (specific family story about a specific person and detail), the _______ (another detail, and the _______ (another detail about another family member).
I am from _______ (location of family pictures, mementos, archives and several more lines indicating their worth).

I did one and adored doing it - it got lost when I closed down Blue Mountains Mary. I am doing it again, slightly modified to suit this template and really want to see others do it as well - if you do it can you let me know - I'll compile a list and links because it may well be one of the most moving things I have ever seen in blogland...

"I am from Sunlight Soap, from Omo and warm milk in bottles at recess.

I am from the wooden house on stumps, heat, humidity and sub tropical rainfall.

I am from the jacaranda, the frangipani, the poinciana and the mulberry tree.

I am from Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve and loyalty, from Margaret and Adrian and all the Marys that preceded me.

I am from love and tears rolling down your face laughter.

From convict stock and Dutch immigrants.

I am from the Catholic Church and drifting incense and familiar hymns.

I'm from Darlinghurst and Brisbane and Adelaide and Stanmore, vegemite sandwiches and Dutch meatloaf.

From Australian summers and European winters.

And I am from a mountainous blue view and eucalypt scent on a breeze."

Fairlie's

Melinda's

Gigi Wiggins

The funny crazy mixed up wonderful world of blogging

2011-03-21T12:28:00.000+11:00

On Saturday morning I plugged back into my twitter page with the express intention of reading tweets as they came out of the Australian Bloggers Conference held in Sydney. I read tweets on and off all day and into the night. I particularly wanted to support Kim and Eden, albeit from afar, as they were both speaking at the conference.

From the tweets it was clear that a group of 180 women (and two or three male bloggers) were completely and totally buoyed by the conference. How amazing to be in a room with like minded people who totally get "blogging" and what it means to each of us as individuals.

At one point I felt compelled to tweet myself - wondering whether the work of the women I follow on Twitter would be acknowledged by the conference. For many of us blogging has been a part of our lives for some years now. I remember when this blog started out as a craft blog (wtf???!!!) and then evolved into something much more personal with a most supportive group of friends who cheered me along as I started out with my photography. And then there was the diagnosis of my husband's bi - polar and the subsequent discovery that he had done things I would never ever have dreamt he could. Things which according to my moral compass were almost too much to bear. My blogging community circled its wagons around me and gave me extraordinary support. A couple of times I took the blog private so that I could lean on that support more heavily. I so admire those bloggers who speak their truth more openly than I can, but I am constrained from doing that, mostly by the fact that my husband's work colleagues check in here from time to time.

I also remember when I told friends about the blog - it was initially greeted with varying degrees of horror - how on earth could I write publicly about my life like that. At the time my most visceral response was "how could I not?"

Now it is completely accepted that I write a blog, and not only that but that I write blogs for clients as well. My blogs have led directly to photography work for magazines for which I remain completely amazed and grateful. That all started because comments on my blog gave me confidence to pursue my passion.

Perhaps the most exceptional thing for me about blogging is (aside from the friendships I have made) the most wonderful blogs I have discovered and read for so long now. The amazing, intelligent, funny , gorgeous , talented people who share their own passions - what a privilege it is to have access to such rich writing.

For a while I have been ambivalent about blogging - I couldn't even properly describe why. I have seen favourite bloggers quietly exit, for various reasons, many of which I have sympathy for.

Reading the tweets from the conference though I realised that it remains a very important form of communication for me. I may not see it in quite the same way that many of the conference attendees do, I may not even bring the same energy and commitment to it that I once did. It is true that I am somewhat cynical about it from time to time.

But the fact remains that blogging had me at "publish post."

Orange umbrella, black pug

2011-03-02T13:27:00.000+11:00

This week our world welcomed Billy Bob. A new life is so very precious. I have had the great good fortune to meet Duyvken and if there is anybody who can cope with 5 children it is she. She mothers with grace and patience and I am so happy for her and Mr D.

I enjoy taking photos with the Iphone - it is so light compared to my more cumbersome cameras. Clearly one of my children enjoys using it too because I have no idea when or where this was taken except that it is recent.

I like the light. I like that I am smiling. I like that I am looking out. I like that it is not perfect. The photo kind of summarises where I am at right now.

The other day I was huffing and puffing my way up and down the cricket pitch at the oval near my home. I couldn't run/shuffle around the oval because it was too uneven and I live in fear of twisting an ankle. I glimpsed something orange through the trees. Eloise like, young Margot turned up with our black pug. Clearly she wanted something more than a hat to shelter her from the sun. Later on she lay down with the pug on the oval, the orange umbrella sheltering them both.

aaaggghhhh

2011-02-22T13:01:00.000+11:00

I can't stand it anymore! Yes this was supposed to be a quiet place of reflection.

I can't do it though. For four years this has been a place where I yarned with friends, shared laughter, shed tears.

The comments are back on! I miss, miss, miss your voices in the comment box.

I needed time to work out whether I was needing my ego stroked by posting here. I have realised - and so in that regard the comments off has been useful - that I was not needing my ego stroked - that in fact what I have here is a lovely community of supportive, non judgemental friends with whom I want to share the successes (of which more another time) as well as the lows. I will remain off facebook because I truly was becoming addicted to that little area of the internet.

So let me show you some photos of my walk on Sunday. It was a two hour walk - I am in my fourth week of walking every day because, as some of you know, I have put on a lot of weight since giving up the fags ... and that would be weight on top of the weight. Inspired by ten kilometre Kim I have downloaded that couch to 5K app on my phone and today managed four minutes of running - interspersed by walking/dying. Actually running is waaaay too glamourous a word to describe the shuffling plod I managed to build up to.

So back to the bushwalk. Look it all started pleasantly enough.

Down and down and down some more past beautiful waterfalls. Along for a while.

behind a waterfall..

And then on to another set of waterfalls - (which are ten minutes away from my home). This is where it all started to get a bit ugly. Not here - this was lovely...

But just past here. Because of course going down, down, down means of course you have to go up, up, up. And so we did. Pretty much vertically. Around about here

I considered sitting down forever. Or calling for a helicopter to get me out. Or vomiting.

Of course I kept going. I had to really. I had no choice.

There is a young woman blogging in Sydney. Her blog is confronting and horrifying. Steel yourself for what you will find when you go over there. Count your blessings. Keep her in a peaceful place in your heart.

Encourage your men to speak.

She has to keep going. She has no choice.

February 14th

2011-02-13T17:40:00.000+11:00

Iphone photos

2011-02-08T13:58:00.000+11:00

New dawn

2011-02-04T13:43:00.000+11:00

This is for Tracey (and for Kirsten too if she is reading).

I am so grateful that Tracey and her family have made it through the perfect storm which pounded North Queensland on Wednesday night. I know a lot of us were nervous for her. I have only ever experienced the tail end of cyclones when I lived in Brisbane as a young girl. The sky would take on a peculiar green black colour and in my memory the earth would go very still - leaves hanging limply on the trees, birds silenced. Then the winds would pick up and inevitably there would be rain. I am not sure if it still happens but the warnings on the radio would be accompanied by a haunting whooping kind of horn - it was the soundtrack to a cyclone for me.

Cyclone, flood, bushfire. Massive snow storms in North America. It has been an unsettling start to the year.

I am also thinking of my mother, whose only sister - Mary - died on Monday morning. My aunt lived in Mackay and Mum flew there from Adelaide on Monday, sadly not making it in time to see her sister. Mackay is a town in North Queensland. So I had added reason for nervousness this week.

Road Trip

2011-01-27T10:56:00.001+11:00

3000 kilometres. Probably 3000 car farts. Two Bass Strait Crossings by boat. Some awesomely beautiful countryside.

And the expression "Calm your farm" introduced by our oldest boy and used, well, probably 3000 times.

Tathra

Seeing red in Melbourne

Swansea, Tasmania

Hobart

Oatlands

Cradle Mountain

Lower Crackpot (!)

And home again -

Which we were all very happy to return to. It is not too shabby in the stunning stakes itself.

No words really

2011-01-23T13:40:00.000+11:00

Except these.

My heart goes out to

those mourning the loss of loved ones.

Friends of mine and friends of yours have had a hauntingly sad start to 2011.

Road Trip

2011-01-06T13:20:00.000+11:00

A wise traveller never despises his own country.
Carlo Goldoni

Mindful

2011-01-02T12:50:00.000+11:00

" Every day

I see or I hear

something that more or less

kills me

with delight,

that leaves me

like a needle

in the haystack

of light.

It is what I was born for -

to look, to listen

to lose myself

inside this soft world -

to instruct myself

over and over

in joy,

and acclamation."

Mary Oliver

So this is what I have come to.

That this year I will be mindful.

That this year I will post photos and poetry and quotes here. I will turn off the comments so that this space hopefully becomes a quiet space of reflection for a brief moment for you all in our amazing blogging world.

I will still post randomly over at 47 -

Happy New Year !

Reflections and confessions

2010-11-26T13:31:00.000+11:00

For a long time I resisted the call of facebook. A few weeks ago I started to use it actively. Most of my friends there are in fact my friends here.

Confession. I wake up early to let the dogs out. And then spend an hour or so reading blogs and emails and facebook.

Confession. I get home from picking up the kids, get them afternoon tea, prepare dinner, and then hang out again with my laptop.

It is time for me to face facts. I have been sad a lot this year. I have let the internet become a form of escape for me... where I used to shop I now prowl the world wide web, allowing it to numb me. Of course where I wander is filled with beauty and lovely writing but it is on the internet for fuck's sake. I only need to walk out the door and beauty is right there. And the reality of dog pooh as well.

Even as I write this I am feeling scared. How crazy is that? Because I am realising that I need to step away from what has become something of an addiction. An addiction to writing about me, me, me. An addiction to reading about you, you, you. And an addiction to avoiding a lot of reality. This morning I found my eyes filling with tears because somebody whose blog I have read for years and who I have commented on faithfully does not list my blog on her sidebar. That was my personal tipping point. That was when I realised how totally crazy that was. How ridiculous my world has become if that is what moves me to tears.

I have been musing on how we communicate with each other these days. I know we all remember the telephone! Remember when emailing instead of phoning was seen as slightly shocking. And now we facebook and tweet instead of emailing.

Anyway for me I need to undergo a digital detox - I believe that is the phrase! I am going to close down my facebook account - waaaaayy too addicting. I will leave my blogs open (although this post is closed to comments) because I passionately believe in this form of communicating but need time out to think what I want and need from blogging. I need to focus on my family and not my laptop!

I will continue to read your blogs. I will not comment. If you sense the echo of a laugh or the trickle of a tear or the whisper of a cheer or the faint touch of arms around you that will be me.

See you on the other side.

Love to all.

Pennants and balloons

2010-11-15T14:26:00.000+11:00

A conversation with Margot

2010-11-03T12:59:00.000+11:00

"Maybe you could be a school teacher when you grow up," I say to Margot.

Just a couple of weeks ago Margot announced that she did not want to go to university but would rather just get married and have kids. She had asked whether you needed to go to university to have children mind you.

"No way," she responds, " Why would I want to go to school, have a gap year, and then go back to school again?"

"So you would rather work in Kmart," I say ... shades of my father who every time I announced I was quitting law school, would ask whether I wanted to be a check out chick instead..

"Hmmm," my eight year old replies and shrugs.

"It's a living."

And I have nothing further to say.

(all photos taken at Rose Briar a couple of weeks ago)

new blog

2010-10-28T09:58:00.001+11:00

I have started a private blog because I do not feel free in this space to publish all that is in my heart.

Please email me for an invite or leave a comment requesting one.

This space remains important for me ... a place to share photos, scraps of poetry, all the beauty that exists amongst the weeds.

You can see that Lyn and I have been quiet over at "47". It will keep going but you know, how ironic that life is getting in the way of life!

I write. I take photos. That is what I do. I will be scaling back on the paid blog work so that not only can I write and take photos but also so I can give my family care and attention.

"ultimately

2010-10-27T18:53:00.000+11:00

We know deeply that the other side of every fear is a freedom.."

Marilyn Ferguson

Cherrydell and lost blogging mojo!

2010-10-12T15:03:00.000+11:00

I have had no internet at home for some weeks and now that I have it back I have put in some solid blog reading/catch up time in.

Unfortunately somewhere along the line I seem to have lost my own blogging mojo so thought I would share some of the glories of spring in Cherrydell with photos taken a week or so ago. And sit in a corner and suck my thumb until I work out where I misplaced said blogging mojo.

Far North Queensland

2010-10-02T12:33:00.000+10:00

A wedding at Four Mile Beach

Cape Tribulation

The kids had a ball in FNQ. The husband may have had too much work to do to really relax.

Probably the highlight for the children, in amongst jungle surfing, a trip to the reef and swimming in the pool (such warm weather for my mountains children) was the opportunity to clamber into one of those vast plastic balls that featured in a soft drink ad some years ago and roll down the hill in it, screeching all the way.

at the Reef

Every day we drove past a small green house set amongst the sugar cane fields. On the other side of the road to the little green house is the train track along which yellow sugar cane trains conveyed cane to the Mossman Sugar Mill. Into the night smoke would billow from its chimney as the sugar cane was processed.

A curtain would billow outwards in the warm tropical breeze. Once I saw the silhouette of a curvy woman, hands on her hips, standing just inside the door.

JOY!

It is, as always, so very good to be home. A quick visit to Cherrydell this morning so I will post some spring photos soon - it is outrageously beautiful that garden. And a new post for 47 is brewing - thank you for the warmth with which that blog has been received.

Frank

2010-09-09T14:31:00.000+10:00

Many readers will remember Gary.

Poor Gary is no more - he got too tall and lanky as an adolescent tree and a windstorm knocked him over.

Fear not though fellow tree lovers.

Please meet Frank. Frank is a peach tree, grown from a peach stone lazily lobbed into the garden one summer's day. We found the little sapling and transplanted it to a better part of the garden. He did not bloom last year but this year he is delighting us with his peachy pink blooms.

I am hoping the blossom will hang on long enough to be photographed against the purple wisteria which grows nearby.

Because life is one long potential photo opportunity at Frank's place.

47

2010-09-02T11:38:00.000+10:00

It would seem I do not have enough blogs to write...

In an email exchange lasting several weeks , Lynn from Speechless, Mostly and I decided to start a blog simply called 47.

We are interested in documenting, mostly in photos, but often in words as well, what it is to be women in our late forties. Life has thrown us both curve balls in the last few years, and I for one am fascinated by the difference between what I thought my life would be like at this age and what the reality is.

I will still post here from time to time but am looking forward to being able to share with Lynn and with you a different take on our lives - it is not that I am not honest in this space - I just want to be more honest. Dig a little deeper, be less guarded.

If that makes sense!

Life

2010-08-30T12:20:00.000+10:00

So finally Margot went back to school after almost two weeks absence due to a violent cough.

I was due to go to Sewjourn this coming weekend but an unexpected place in the Grand Final for Joe's soccer team and his tearful pleading for my presence at said Final led to me deciding that my family must come first. As I wrote to Suse I was so often absent from the children last year - emotionally and sometimes physically - I feel like I need to make up for that.

Work, stress, tiredness for J put me in a state of hyper alertness for any signs of a bi polar high or low. Seasonal changes can also trigger highs or lows. It is incredible to me though how different he is in himself - he laughs! His eyes are bright. He might lose his cool but I have to be very careful not to jump to the bi polar conclusion - I lose my cool too and I am not bi polar - just pre menstrual!

I was out at Orange last week and made a spur of the moment decision to drive back to the mountains via the old gold mining town of Sofala. The country roads took me past creeks where the willows were Spring time greening. Large stands of wattle bloomed golden in the sun. The bliss of being able to take photographs for myself - the bliss of having time to myself... and the most wondrous light over the valley from the road that snakes along the cliffs of the mountains..

Spring is coming

2010-08-17T14:44:00.001+10:00

Today is one of those almost Spring days that the Mountains does so well. Tomorrow could well be cold and misty but today is glorious. The bees are busy, humming, drunk with pollen. The air is fresh apple crisp and the sun has a delicious warming of the bones quality to it.

The photos are from around my neighbourhood. These are the times that I am glad that I went through the hideousness of coming off anti depressants, because I would not want to be numb to this beauty, this day.

Heartfelt thanks and other things

2010-08-12T13:58:00.000+10:00

At the beginning of the year Dragonfly and I entered into a swap arrangement - I would send her photos and she would make me a quilt.

Boy did she make me a quilt!

The photos do not do it justice but it is absolutely gorgeous and incorporates one of my favourite colour combinations of grey, red and turquoise. That is not the only piece of her handiwork that I am now the proud owner of .. some time ago I won a hand crocheted blue bird mobile in a competition she ran - bugger giving it to a baby, I wanted this one for myself!

Thank you with all my heart T.

I very rarely talk about our eldest son, recently turned 14. He is a weekly boarder at a Sydney high school and I miss him all the time. I just wanted to record for posterity how incredibly proud I am of him. We attended parent teacher interviews on Sunday with him and the response from his teachers was overwhelmingly positive. He came second out of 150 or so boys in Science and did extremely well in his other core subjects but what really makes my heart sing are his results in Art and Music which were outstanding. He has the world at his feet in the words of one of his teachers but the most wonderful thing is that he understands now what it is to accomplish great things for himself - not for us , his parents, not for his teachers, but for himself. This sense of self worth is something I will do everything in my power to nurture in the years to come. His modesty in accepting compliments was beautiful too.

(magnolias blooming outside his school)

On Monday J and I went to a jeweller in Sydney to choose rings for the ceremony in September. Simple bands with our initials and those of the kids engraved on them. The last few weeks have not been without their tensions but we continue to do our best to remember to take the time to talk when things are not going as smoothly as we would like them to.

another post!

2010-07-29T19:29:00.000+10:00

Except I am not sure where I am going with this one but these are things I cannot stop thinking about this week.

On Monday night I returned to ABC television after weeks of Masterchef and watched, appalled, a BBC documentary on the people of the Congo and the horrendous rapes that Congolese women are subjected to by rebels and soldiers. Baby girls as young as six months have been subjected to this horror. The one glimmer of hope was the story of the woman who is building accommodation for 100 women at a time who have been the victims of rape.

She is calling it "The City of Joy."

Yesterday I heard an interview with Ayaan Hirsi Ali who spoke in measured tones about her beliefs and values. She was asked what she thought about the "boat people" debate that is going on in our country. Whilst she feels that there should be a selection process based on an individual's desire to live in Australia and assimilate with Australian values and customs, she also gently pointed out that the number of people we are talking about is small in comparison to Europe and America...

"Even in the peak boat arrival years of the 1970s and 1999–2001, the arrival numbers in Australia were small compared to other destination countries. In 2000, for example, when approximately 3000 ‘boat people’ arrived in Australia, Iran and Pakistan each hosted over a million Afghan refugees. In fact, the burden of assisting the world’s asylum seekers mostly fell, and still falls, to some of the world’s poorest countries." From the Parliamentary Library

Compassion is a word that springs to mind. And I am mindful of the fact that many of us are descended from people who arrived here on boats (including the convicts!), escaping from war or conflict or apartheid or religious persecution. My own father arrived here from Holland in the early 1950s - on a boat - not a refugee in the strictest sense - but certainly the son of a man who had gone into the concentration camps with the UN after World War 11 and who desired above all else to bring his family to a safe and free country.

Implicit in Ayaan's discussion with the interviewer was a challenge. How dare we - with all our privileges and freedoms - not be joyful?

I do not want to gloss over the inequalities and divisions that of course exist here. They are real and they are wrong. Yet over 300 000 people have been killed in Sudan. An estimated 800 000 people were killed in Rwanda in 1994.

That is a terrifying and incomprehensible reality and puts our issues in perspective I think.

The carping and back stabbing and nervous twitching sound bites that seem to go with a federal election campaign?

Are so petty.

We do not live in the Congo. We do not live in Afghanistan or Somalia or Rwanda or any of those countries regularly ravaged by epidemics or other conflicts.

How dare we not be joyful?

Now there's a campaign slogan. And it is so much more..

When

2010-07-27T10:49:00.000+10:00

when the kids are reluctant to pose for mum

I can always count on Snowy the Bear

Reflecting

2010-07-23T12:35:00.000+10:00

I am sitting at my desk in the little cottage we have rented. We refer to it as "The Little House." I have just finished one blog post for Tricia and am to write another for Scott, both of whom I saw yesterday.

The back room of this cottage is bathed in light all day. We rented this tiny place as a workspace for me and as a getaway place if either of us need some quiet time. We are incredibly fortunate to be able to do this.

Duyvken asked me about our plans for North Queensland in September. Originally I envisaged that we would be, not renewing our vows, but having a ceremony which would declare our fresh commitment to one another. Since the original plans were made it has become clearer and clearer to me that I what I really want is to declare our commitment to our children. They have been through a lot in the last couple of years and I am thankful that they were not overly exposed to our anger and pain. Part of my renewed respect for my husband is the enormous effort he has put into renewing his relationship with our children.

So it will just be the five of us in September, with a celebrant. A simple ceremony declaring our love for our family.

And we will be celebrating our family.

Postscript

2010-07-21T19:57:00.000+10:00

And now that website has been updated !

No more cross selling I promise!

www.marycanning.com

Sharing

2010-07-20T13:15:00.001+10:00

Ooo - fancy pancy new blogger uploading tools - loving that!

For some time now I have been debating whether or not to share with you all the work I have been doing that forms part of a website I have had designed. For one thing I will be sharing my full name and thus removing a certain degree of anonymity here. I have decided that is silly because many of you know my name from emails or from meeting you. I also have been reluctant because I don't want this blog to become "commercial". However I am dealing with that by just pointing you in the direction of my website once and then resuming normal blogging about my day to day (or month to month !) life.

The website is being updated to incorporate my new adventures in portrait and wedding photography but you will get the general idea... I feel stupidly shy(and not in a fake way) about this but here goes...

www.marycanning.com

If you click on a photo it acts as a link to the relevant blog.

Also - does anyone know how to stop the Chinese comments? Do I need to moderate comments more strictly that just word verification?

Love to all

Where I have been

2010-07-02T11:51:00.003+10:00

It is bitterly cold here in the mountains. The days snap and crackle with frost.

I do love it.

A few weeks ago I undertook the photography for the school's debutante ball. Some may call such a ball old fashioned and of course in many ways it is - but to see young girls waltzing in beautiful white dresses, their partners in dinner suits - I feel as though there is room in this facebook age for a degree of formality, if only for one night.

Post processing the hundreds of photos, where I work on each photo individually, takes me many hours - and no sooner had I ejected the last disc of photos than the internal hard drive died. Thankfully all forty thousand photos (oh yeah baby) were recovered and I am deep in discussions with the tech guy as to how best protect and back up my files.

I am not sure why but I have been asked to photograph three weddings over the next few months. I swore I would never do weddings. However the women in question seem happy for me to take these incredibly precious photos on the basis that I will use natural light and keep things quite informal .

I can't stress enough how much my photography means to me. I have been a poor commenter in the last few weeks but have noticed a recurrent theme in blog posts of the enormous difficulty for women to find time for their own passions. Juggling family and work demands means that often there is only very limited time for those things which bring a touch of glimmering silver to our lives - be that reading, craft, exercise or simply enjoying a quiet cup of tea in a sunlit chair.

Without my photography (friendship and family are a given here) I can tell you that I would not, after all that has happened in the last two years, be where I am now.

I might well have been a statistic.

beautiful Margot

2010-06-07T14:02:00.004+10:00

She uses those blue eyes and gappy teeth to wonderful effect does she not?

In amongst the business of life and the client blogs I now write I have started a very quiet little corner of the blogosphere called Desaturate.

I just wanted somewhere to post photos that are more peaceful in colour than my usual ones and where you might be able to contemplate a little. Comments are turned off , although it might be where I sell some prints (probably through Red Bubble- just have to get my act together).

A new phrase

2010-06-03T14:32:00.003+10:00

I have invented a new phrase - very different to "it dements me" which I introduced a couple of years ago.

Although there is a nexus between something dementing me and the new phrase.

Which is.

"Fuckity bugger."

Whist it sounds quite cute there is no denying its evil intent.

It can be used in times of extreme anger - say when the dog has poohed on the kitchen floor for the zillionth time - in fact at these times you can use it as the basis for a whole string of swear words - "Oh fuckity bugger and damn and fuckity bugger it to hell"

It can be used in times when things have just got a little too much - say when your son texts you that the compulsory family mass is on in the city this Sunday and you have one child out bush and your own afternoon tied up with a high tea for the 25 debutantes you are going to photograph and so you can text him wearily "fuckity bugger."

It is a phrase that rolls around the mouth very satisfactorily.

Try it - I think you will agree...

Gone Troppo

2010-05-24T12:52:00.008+10:00

We have just returned from spending a week in Far North Queensland. In September we will be returning with the kids to get (re) married.

I have only travelled as far north as Mackay and that was many years ago. This time we flew to Cairns and then drove to the hinterland behind Port Douglas where we were staying.

The country here is wild and lush and exotic. Cane fields stretch for miles and in the next few months the cane will be burnt off - at night time the flames resemble lava flowing we are told . I would like to see that..

We called it the land of "c" words.. cane toads, coconuts, crocodiles and crabs. For several months of the year you cannot swim in the sea because of the box jelly fish, and everywhere there are warning signs about the crocodiles. Other signs warn you against stretching out your beach towel underneath a palm tree in case a coconut falls on your head.

So there are certainly dangers associated with staying around here. There is also enormous beauty.

Like flowers which grow in abundance here - the hibiscus and the frangipani - no need for stickers in car windows when you can pick them for nothing!

Like brilliant butterflies.

The strange and wonderfully folly that is the castle/park called Paronella Park. Where a Spaniard called Jose decided to build his dream in the 1930s , designing and constructing castles and a hydro electric plant, planting 7000 trees. Flood, fire and cyclone means that his buildings have been damaged badly over the years, but walking around the grounds felt like being in a Gabriel Garcia Marquez novel.

Queensland houses, built on stumps to avoid flood. For me as a child growing up in Brisbane, the elevated home simply meant that "under the house" was a shaded place to play or where the canvas pool was set up out of the sticky heat.

Rivers and gorges and of course beaches. Densely rainforested mountains that run right down to the water's edge in some areas.

Magnificent sugar mills, many years old, built from corrugated iron that needs regular replacement as it rusts in the tropical sun.

It gets to you somehow - the extravagant gorgeousness of this part of the world. The dangers only accentuate the beauty.

And yet, I sigh peacefully to myself. My inner Dorothy knows full well that there is no place like home...

Venetian Masks

2010-05-10T12:27:00.004+10:00

The autumn colours are exploding right now in the Mountains. Everytime I round a corner I see another tree blazing away - looking as though it has been set on fire.

Mothers Day was wonderful. Will made the best ever French Toast using freshly baked sourdough bought at the local markets. Joe bought me handmade turkish delight with his own money from the same markets and Margot made me a million cards!

Margot and I went for a walk so I could photograph the autumn colours.

She held up leaves for me to admire - a little blonde girl wearing nature's own Venetian Masks.

And the winner is...

2010-05-03T12:10:00.008+10:00

I will be sending a print of this photo to Anotherwhine - the link will take you to where Rhubarb Whine is posting some gorgeous photos... Rhu could you please email me your address so I can post this off ASAP...

Thanks for all of the positive comments re the hair - I am so happy with it !

The above are photos from Mt Tomah Botanic Garden- I am now writing a visitors journal for them (in blog form) which is something of a dream come true for me..

April 2010

This is the tree I am photographing for Alice's photographic project - well a part of the tree anyway - I just didn't have the right lens attached that day

This is a photo I took of trees on the drive back from Orange a couple of weeks ago.

I continue to love my photography. I am enjoying playing with textures in photoshop with some of my photos - I have bought quite a lot but there are thousands of free ones on the net. They add a painterly quality to photos if wisely used.

I am inheriting a 1970s russian made film camera from one uncle and a beautiful canon F1 film camera from another. I am wanting the discipline (and the expense) of film to help me continue to develop my eye...

So

2010-04-21T13:08:00.005+10:00

Cherrydell

Autumn is blazing away here in the mountains. Last year I wasn't able to absorb the beauty.

This year I can.

I am revisiting Cherrydell for another few months and will post photos here from time to time. I was never completely happy with the initial photos and so will combine new photos with the existing text in order to be able to make some kind of book. I am happy to update the original blog if anyone is interested.

I went to Adelaide for Mum's 70th birthday - a wonderful family gathering. In a quiet conversation we had the day after her party she told me how expectant she is feeling. Filled with curiosity about what life has in store for her.

Isn't that fantastic?

I clipped Joe's hair in anticipation of the new school term. I forgot that it was set at zero. I gasped in shock as the clippers went through his hair, leaving a kind of gorge/gouge. So disbelieving was I that I did it again!

A visit to the hairdresser for a Number One resulted. Joe cleverly forestalled any potential embarrassment by deciding his haircut could be part of the World's Greatest Shave and we donated to the Leukaemia Foundation accordingly.

So guilt ridden was I that I decided to get my head shaved too.

I am never going back. A Number 6 for $10.00? And my own hair colour for the first time in over 20 years? It is exhilarating! And I love all the grey silvery bling in my hair.

I am now off my medication as of Monday and spend my days in a woozy, dizzy kind of way. Unfortunately that still does not explain the carnage I wrought on Joe's head.

I believe I passed the three year blogging mark some time ago. Leave a comment, not of the Japanese spam kind, and I will happily print and post a photo!

And finally, sadly, and respectfully, I share here that Scott's brother Dean passed away on April 3rd , 201o.

Love to all.

Images and words

2010-04-01T10:16:00.003+11:00

I had a massive realisation this week. I realised that when you are in emotional pain it can make you arrogant. Oblivious to how others are feeling or what they may be going through because your world has become completely absorbed in its own pain.

I understand that that is understandable.

However I do think that when you are in a better place it is imperative that you open your heart to the pain others are going through, to be there for them as they were for you.

Thank you Scott for allowing me to do this for you.

Images from the past week or two (and a bit of text!)

2010-03-24T17:57:00.005+11:00

So I have raced around the blogosphere catching up on news. Sarah from Spruce Hill has learnt her cancer is back(thinking of you Sarah), Kim has had some trying times with Grover recently. Duyvken shared some fantastic blog links, Eleanor is working hard at her film course. Tex still roams his German village like a king, Suse at Pea Soup has been making skirts and the dancing Frog shared some exam bloopers. The Magpie's daughter is GORGEOUS! Maggie May is hanging on with all her might to a very new pregnancy. Fairlie made a beautiful dress for her daugher. Ric Rac has been playing with teacups. To all who are doing it tough right now - my thoughts and hopes are with you.

I write this to show that I am still reading blogs and so many more than I mentioned here - I am just not the best of commenters these days. Please know that I do read, that I am still here and that I am so grateful for all the happy comments on the last post.

Note to self - do a blog roll in sidebar.

I helped my friend Cathy today to get going on her blog. It is still a work in progress but she is a wonderful chef (who will share recipes) and a craftswoman to boot.

Elizabeth, Cherie, Tracy - I promise some photos are coming!! I am trying to work on my terrible habit of "why do today what you can do the day after tomorrow" - which I think is an Oscar Wilde saying.

Btw, guess what? I am marrying in October the man I married 20 years ago this September. I actually think I feel more excited this time round.

One year and one day

2010-03-11T12:31:00.002+11:00

One year ago yesterday I was getting ready to go to Melbourne with our darling Eleanor. One year ago yesterday afternoon my world as I knew it was changed forever.

These days I try not to be too personal about things on this blog. I write about what is happening with me but not too much about what is happening with us. Just today though I am going to write about us because there is an us and not just a me.

Last year was spent in the foggiest of head spaces. Some days I thought we could work things out and other days, most of them, I felt we could not. I felt that the most fundamental of vows had been broken and I could not get past that. Nor could I stop obsessing about the details, over and over and over. I was exhausted and I know people watched with concern as I constantly changed my mind. I inhabited a completely self absorbed and selfish space and made decisions, including taking a month long trip to Greece, which were not necessarily in the best interests of my family.

I think I have written though that it is not a year I regret. I learnt a lot about myself and about him.

He is regaining my trust. I don't think he ever lost my love, although I loathed him often. He has worked incredibly hard in the last year to make things right. He is trying very hard to be the consistent person I have asked him to be.

I am trying to express gratitude more often. This is possibly the single most important thing I can do, after years of taking things for granted. We both try to have conversations with each other that don't simply consist of life's logistics - because one thing we did do right last year was to talk and talk and talk. We also try to plan things more slowly and carefully - we both have a tendency to rush into things and recognise now that whilst sometimes that has worked, there are times when it has not.

He makes me laugh.

We laugh together.

Inside my Head

2010-03-08T14:41:00.006+11:00

- this is a belated posting of my tree which I did indeed take in February

- any one know the difference between a psychologist and a psychotherapist?

- I owe photos to Dragonfly and Landanna - they will be posted soon I promise!

- I lost 2.2 kg in the first week on the diet

- just goes to show how much sugary crap I was shovelling into my mouth every single day

- Welcome little Plum, funny little Golumish thing she is

- Love the rainbow in the drop of water

Inside my Head

2010-02-27T16:12:00.006+11:00

- we went camping near here a couple of weeks ago - just for one night to practice putting up the tent. We spend a lot of our time staring at the water.

- Last night we saw "Deliverance." Many years since I have seen it and the location reminded me eerily of where we had been camping. Probably very appropriate that I wore a tee - shirt camping which said "Keep Paddling. I hear Banjos!"

- Extra busy with photography gigs at the moment. That's good.

- Started a well known weight loss programme three days ago (represented here in Oz by Magda Szubanski ). I have to lose 27 kg to be at my optimum weight.

- 27 kilos (or 60 pounds to my overseas readers).

- I also start with a new psychologist soon. My usual person has her own stuff to deal with and I see this as an opportunity to talk to someone about discipline - both mental and physical. I am also (and I have talked to my doctor about this )going to wean myself off medication over several months - my head feels foggy often and whilst that was very useful over the last couple of years it is not now.

- These photos (taken in Balmain and the back garden) were taken with the Iphone using the Hipstamatic application. Just in case you wanted to know.

- 27 kilogrammes!

- Oh my giddy aunt.

Inside my head

2010-02-08T14:05:00.002+11:00

It is a very long time since I have done one of these !!

- Just before Christmas I started doing some origami again - cranes and butterflies. I taught a friend and then she got on the internet and started looking at modular origami and now we share a full on addiction. I make one of these a night at the moment and love it. Though goodness only knows what I will do with them all!!

- Why oh why does my chin get hairier and hairier. If I didn't pluck or wax there I would definitely give a goat a run for its money...

- I will never be able to be guilt free about marking all as read when my blog reading list gets too long. Usually I skim through first and read as many posts as I can, which often means that I cannot comment because I am in too much of a hurry and then I just have to hit the "mark all as read" button because my anxiety levels increase as the post list gets longer. Sigh...

- It does not take a genius to make a link between origami obsession and lack of blog reading...

- on the up ramp to some local shops which runs from the basement car park buskers usually put out their hats and sing /play for a couple of hours. The acoustics are wonderful. Truly. There is a woman who has been there often recently. Her face, hair and clothes are all faded but her voice has not. It is pure, sweet and clear and I wonder about her and her life. I would like to take her photograph and find out a bit more about her.

- I fell down the back stairs of Tricia's house today. Oh my giddy aunt it hurt. She was not there but I must ring her and warn her about how slippery those stairs are. It makes my stomach churn to think of her falling.

- we have been experiencing rain, storm, hail and more and more rain here in the mountains. The same rain that is breaking the drought at west I suppose. It is almost monsoonal in that the days are muggy and steamy and wet, not something we are accustomed to here.

- I love the word "monsoon." I think of green jungles and vivid flowers and strange coloured birds flitting between the trees and women in green or yellow saris and the dripping of water and fans lazily spinning and mosquito nets.

- I think of those who lost lives and homes in last year's tragic bushfires in Victoria.

- I am listening most days to Radio National, another new found love. I like that it stimulates my mind.

- which is clearly origami befuddled.

- I am Toad of Toad Hall. "Poot poot" as he dreamily contemplates the next obsession.

Camping - South Coast

2010-01-24T12:39:00.003+11:00

She was having a very peaceful sleep!

Learning

2010-01-13T13:32:00.005+11:00

unused image from a recent shoot for a local mag

Increasingly I am being asked to write blogs for other people. This is a source of great joy to me because I am able to further develop my photography and writing.

It occurred to me this morning though that I am very privileged - extraordinarily so - because I am being given the opportunity to share in these peoples lives in a very intimate way. I am also granted the exceptional opportunity to learn so much from very talented men and women - about creative passion, about business, about sheer bloody hard work.

Let me share ...

I visited with Scott yesterday - after falling into a bit of flat place creatively he is now back and firing on all cylinders. His talent is vast and his work takes my breath away....

A new blog I am writing is following the evolution of an Australian musical that has been written by two local mountains men. Entitled "Three Weeks in Spring", it covers the period from April 25 1915 until 22 May 1915 during the First World War. I was present for the recording of some of the songs for the musical and I believe what is being created is exceptional - yet a lot of the hard work is still in front of the guys as they seek funding to put the show on...

I also blog for the Hawkesbury Harvest Board here in NSW. It is amazing - I am meeting men and women who work extremely hard to produce the food that is put on our tables. Their stories are always touching and motivate me to keep working hard myself. Similar lessons are being learnt from Richard and Kathy Thomas out at Mayfield as I document their vineyard.

Megalong Valley

I am also about to start a blog for another local fellow who has been extremely successful in I.T. He has turned his attention to farming in the Megalong Valley as well and is concentrating on beef cattle. Not much ammunition there for a blog you would assume, but in fact Craig is an incredibly bright man who thinks deeply about life and our connectedness to the earth. I feel in my bones that I will be learning much from him.

And of course there is Trish - I am woefully overdue in posting some photos from a visit with her just before New Year's Eve. She is a dear friend now and one who has supported and encouraged me endlessly.

My mantra this year is to "Be open and stay alert" - be open to everything and everyone I meet and to stay alert for opportunities....

I also was asked once to share what I thought were critical factors for taking a good photograph. Goodness knows that the technical side of photography is not one of my strengths but here, for what it is worth, are the things I use to direct my own photography..

1. Try and use your camera every day. I learnt this lesson undertaking the 365 project on Flickr - a photo a day every day for a year, which I did in 2008. There were a few days I missed but I found that it quite dramatically improved my photography.

2. Be resolute - ditch the bad photos - I used to keep all my photos - arrogance or stupidity - but now ruthlessly get rid of the crap ones - truly - why keep them?

3. Use of all of your five senses when taking photographs. The cry of a cockatoo, the shadow of a butterfly's wings, the scent of a lily, the touch of my hand on my little girl's hair , the taste of a cold beer on a hot day - all alert me to a photographic possibility.

4. I adore reading magazines, photography books etc and learning from other photographers about how they light, compose, create a photograph. The joy in seeing something in a new way by looking at other photographers' work is endless for me.

Here endeth my lesson.....!

Walking the lanes

2010-01-07T12:27:00.005+11:00

Stomper - these were patent leather purple!

Two exquisite beetles, doing what comes naturally..

Many of you know that I live in the Blue Mountains - a world heritage listed area here in Australia. Simply by walking out my front door I am able to restore myself by wandering around the laneways near my home , in all kinds of weather, camera at the ready.

I say my home - and it still is, but as we continue to gently recover love, I have moved into a house in a nearby village, for space and quiet times and the chance to work on the challenges of building a photography business.

margot's cubby at the new house

A project which I am undertaking this year, which is for pleasure and not business, has been inspired by dear Alice. The link will take you to her post and she has very kindly allowed me to take part - after shamelessly telling her I would! Why not join? Leave a comment expressing your interest - this would be amazing on an international level - and we might try to set some parameters - very loose ones - around it - number of posts, links back - perhaps a dedicated team blog!! Who knows?!!

Here is my first photo....

The New Year

2010-01-02T19:11:00.004+11:00

I went for a small walk on New Year's Day and began the recovery from the night before. We held a party for our friends here in the mountains - to thank them for their support and to welcome in a new, more positive year.

Me - cigarette in one hand, glass of red wine in the other, dancing and dancing towards love.

on the eve of New Year's Eve

2009-12-30T22:21:00.002+11:00

They say

That tomorrow night's moon will be a blue one

Two full moons in a calendar month.

My son was born when the moon was blue.

We were lucky he survived the cord around his neck.

Twice.

With a true knot in it.

The blue moon brought him luck the doctor said.

I am happy to bid this year farewell,

With all its pain and distress.

I look forward, as the wind chimes chime and

the train rumbles in the distance.

The cicadas having fallen silent.

I am looking forward to a new year.

To a calmer existence.

I love the white paper lanterns around my verandah

The soft glow.

The moths shiver in and out of the gentle light.

To all of you who held me close during this year and took care of me by email and phone call and comments here and at the old blog, I wish you a wonderful year filled with laughter and love.....

2009-12-19T17:58:00.002+11:00

A Poem for Christmas

Hydrangeas and agapanthus bloom in the heat

harbingers of Christmas.

At night the smell of the pine tree

in its red bucket

scents the room

White wax bells and glass stars

And tiny lights that sparkle on silver wreaths

The little girl with eyes of oceanic blue

Grows more excited by the day

And makes origami boxes for Santa.

The breeze brings with it a hint of smoke.

I remember sitting in an inner west courtyard

Ash and black leaves raining down

into our glasses

one Christmas day, blown

from the mountains by a hot wind.

Tinsel and frenzy fill the shops.

It soothes me to sit by the tree

And inhale its piney smell

And meditate on the star that swings in the night air

Listening to choirs singing the ancient carols.

2009-12-10T21:03:00.002+11:00

I am sitting at my desk listening to the exquisite boy soprano voice that starts "Once in Royal David's City."

I love Christmas and adore Christmas music. Outside another train rumbles down to the city and a small wind is sighing in the trees. It is dark. The voices, accompanied only by an organ, continue with the beautiful, familiar carol.

I have much to reflect on as the year draws to a close. So much that was horrendously difficult and beyond anything I have ever had to contend with before. Yet I have learnt alot about myself and others. And there has been a lot of laughter amongst the tears, and moments of great peace amongst the turmoil. I have hated this year in so many ways, yet it is not one I regret.

And I know that I have not been alone in experiencing a rough year. In fact I feel that so many of us have had to face difficulties beyond our imaginings. Some weird alignment of planets, some bizarre mockery by the universe, who knows?

So, before the year is out and before we welcome the new year in I would love to know.

I would love to know what you are going to do with your wild and precious lives next year (to paraphrase Mary Oliver).

For myself I would like to re focus on my mothering and continue to learn the craft of photography. The mothering - that's a big one for me and complicated - but I would love to be less muddleheaded in the care of my precious children.

Love to all...

Where to start, where to start??

2009-12-03T21:54:00.006+11:00

I am getting to that point in the year where all I long for is pyjama days with the kids. Where we loll and relax and bicker and dement each other, yet still revel in the holiday freedom.

I better do a list - my sure fire (maybe not that sure fire) way to keep tell things in an orderly fashion.

1. Scott has written in his own words of his momentous visit to Shanghai. Link over there yonder in the side bar.

2. Craignish is a feast of roses and hydrangeas at the moment if you feel like taking a look. Link over there yonder in the side bar.

3. Trish is my boon companion, but her own Old Dog was put to sleep a couple of weeks ago. You know where the link is.

4. If you look over there as well at those red bubble photos, you will get a sneak peak at the calendar that Suse , Janet and I are putting together. It's almost ready so stay tuned! I think it is so lovely and the way those wonderful girls can capture light!

5. I took the photos for a Christmas food shoot in our local "Life" magazine and am a bit proud of them!

6. I continue to work hard for the vineyard and the farm gate trail.

7. I recently took the plunge and invested in a very good photo printer. I am more than thrilled with the colours and have been using gorgeous Canson photo paper - it is archival quality and has a lovely, matte texture to it - slightly embossed if that makes sense. You will see from the button I have added that if you are interested in purchasing I can raise an invoice through Pay Pal now using emails. I have also invested in exceptional envelopes which are very rigid and should nicely protect the photos anywhere they are sent. I am happy to print any of my photos but on the whole will keep it to those I upload from time to time - and limit the number I print to 25. I will keep a special book so as I don't forget where I am up to! I will consider doing this through Etsy too but am yet to make a final decision there.

I will charge A$15.00 per print and for overseas buyers (?!) will do the conversion as soon as an email is received.

That's what those photos are doing - not over yonder

but up there!

I am desperately trying to keep up with all my friends in blogland. Such a wonderful time of year - I want to know what everyone is doing. If only my eldest boy was not such a gargantuan user of the laptop to keep up on all his facebook doings!

Edited to add - calendar on sale now!

At the Spring Fair

2009-11-17T19:13:00.005+11:00

Jewel coloured pennants flutter in the warm spring breeze

Above white tents

Like a scene from a medieval jousting tournament.

My children ride the Roundup.

They spin faster and higher and faster still and higher still.

I love to see them soar and hear their shouts of laughter.

It is even better to have them safely on the ground again.

With me.

They eat hot chips and drink cold fizzy drinks.

Sugary sweet , jewel coloured cans sit in buckets of melting ice.

Popsicle colours blur.

The eyes of my children stay clear and focused.

May this always be so.

I think

2009-11-12T13:32:00.003+11:00

I first found this poem on another blog - whose blog it was I cannot remember - but the poem completely resonates with me.. I find myself re reading it often..

Advice

When you are faced with

two alternatives

Choose both. And should they

put you to the test,

Tick every box. Nothing is

ever single.

A seed's a tree's a ship's

a constellation.

Nail your true colours to this

branching mast.

Robert Crawford

Today

2009-11-09T17:10:00.007+11:00

If ever there were a spring day so perfect,
so uplifted by a warm intermittent breeze

that it made you want to throw
open all the windows in the house

and unlatch the door to the canary's cage,
indeed, rip the little door from its jamb,

a day when the cool brick paths
and the garden bursting with peonies

seemed so etched in sunlight
that you felt like taking

a hammer to the glass paperweight
on the living room end table,

releasing the inhabitants
from their snow-covered cottage

so they could walk out,
holding hands and squinting

into this larger dome of blue and white,
well, today is just that kind of day.

Billy Collins

Random portraits and notes

2009-11-03T18:57:00.010+11:00

This is a photo taken from near the top of a very high mountain on Samos. We were on our way to a convent at the very top of the mountain.

These are the views the nuns meditate on.

A Catholic priest, quietly praying the rosary clasped in his hands. On his way to Samos.

Perhaps to visit the nuns.

This priest was gazing back at the island of Patmos, on the same ferry bound for Samos as the Catholic priest.

He might live in the monastery on Patmos.

He looks a little less crestfallen in this photo. The wind blew his beard and he held on firmly to his hat.

I wonder if he knew about the views on Samos.

This photo and the photo below it are taken at the taverna at Katsadia, perhaps my favourite beach on Lipsi.

This is Dimitri. He is from Athens and he is a mechanic.

This is Ricky, an Italian artist who lives on Lipsi. Although this is a black and white portrait, I can tell you that those eyes are a piercing blue.

Ricky lights his cigarette, a bright flame in the dark of the ouzeria. He is drinking brandy with his Italian friends.

Dimitri and Ricky both like the taverna at Katsadia too. We all do.

I sat at another table, drinking ouzo and listening to the bouzouki music.

That music gets to you somehow.

Here is Tomas again. High cheekbones, strong nose. His eyes are faded now, but when we met him twenty years ago they were piercing too.

This man loved to fish. Every day.

Moments before the blue shirted boy on the back of this tiny boat had been intertwined with the girl in the photo above, passionately kissing her and stroking her tanned skin. He was going back to Telendos, about 500 metres across the bay from Kalymnos.

I asked her how long they had been together.

"Two days!" she replied.

All summer she had been in Kalymnos and he had been 500 metres away in Telendos.

She was returning to Athens.

Here is the main port of Kalymnos. It is here, over 50 years ago, that Charmian Clift wrote her exquisite book on her life on Kalymnos ("Mermaid Singing")with her husband George Johnston and their two children.

Here is a customer at the taverna at Kalymnos. See how deeply his laugh lines are engraved in his face.

This is the owner of the taverna.
Here she is having an animated conversation on the phone.

This white scarved woman was sitting on the beach at Kalymnos. She has been for a swim and was chatting with her friends still in the water. That is the island of Telendos across the bay, perhaps a ten minute ferry ride away.

This is the view of Telendos taken from the taverna near the tiny jetty.

This photo was taken at the ancient monastery on the island of Patmos.

Remember the crestfallen priest?

So was this.

This priest with the majestic beard was climbing the many stairs to reach the monastery.

It was lunch time.

The tiny white village that nestles around the monastery was drowsing in the noon time sun.

The End

Fishermen

2009-10-29T17:26:00.003+11:00

The island subsists on tourists

And fishing.

I wonder what winter is like on Lipsi..

No tourists or very few.

Cold, wet, huddled in smokey tavernas,

The fishermen returned from the sea.

Drinking ouzo or beer

And comparing catches.

At night, late, if there was a pause in conversation,

You would hear the gentle chug of the little boats

Heading out to sea.

During the day the yellow nets would be neatly bundled along the port.

A fisherman sits, bare footed,

Defty untangling and mending his nets.

Are his thoughts of red mullet?

Or nothing at all.

Doors and Windows

2009-10-27T13:12:00.005+11:00

Some freshly painted

Others rotting gently into decay

Abandoned

Or open to the wind and the sun and the sound of children laughing

The stories these doors and windows could tell.

Fresh paint or faded.

The quiet murmur of Orthodox priests, robed in black

Long ponytailed hair.

The faintest echo of chant and bell.

Election night

2009-10-23T10:06:00.003+11:00

Election night in Lipsi

A full moon rose over the harbour

Beer bottles were filled with firecrackers and lined up

Along the sea.

A tiny celebration for the victors.

The red flame and smoke briefly illuminated the sky.

The Greeks shrugged philosphically at the result.

All politicians are the same.

They said.

These inventors of democracy.

To Lipsi, with love

2009-10-18T21:57:00.007+11:00

I search old books of poetry

To find a poem that captures for me

Something of what I saw and felt

Yet who else but me can write of these things

The sea all a glitter and a spangle

And darkly blue

The three fishes nibbling at me

That briefly

Remind me of my three children

And find me crying salt into the great salty sea

The gentle clanging murmur of the bells around the goats necks

And the mournful tolling of the passing bell

As it tells the village that another one of its own has died

The ribbons of colour tied around a fishing net

Which roofs a place where I drink cold beer and eat octopus

The scuff of my shoes along dry roads

The scent of oregano and thyme that perfumes the air

And clings to my clothes

A picnic on a deserted beach, eating the first fish of the season

Only briefly alive and sweet and salty on my tongue

Long nights of drinking ouzo and talking with Italians and Germans

And English and Greeks

Of everything

And nothing at all.

Of old Thomas, who when we first met was courtly and strong and nimbly

Jumped from boat to dry land and back again.

His hands now folded calmly, staring his cancer down.

He feeds the orange cat with scraps scavenged from his own barely touched meals.

Of young and beautiful marauding Greek pirates

Who twenty years on, now generously serve me with food and drink and enquire after

My health with gravity.

The sea, The sea.

It fills me with a nameless longing.

The sand curls between my toes.

The pebbles are smooth.

Sometimes I find pieces of jade green sea glass, edges polished soft.

I put them in my pocket with the strange coins.

The white houses, the pink blooms, the fading vines.

Manolis! Michaelis! Dimitris! Nicos! Anna! Despina! Tomas!

The mothers calling their children home for dinner.

The music, the haunting love songs, the bouzouki, the guitar, the violin.

We waited many nights for the moon to be full.

It rose above the sea and sunk behind the mountain,

The Evening Star its most faithful and beloved companion.

A time of reality suspended.

A reality of time suspended.

Love

Maryx

A Greek photo, a Japanese poem

2009-10-18T14:03:00.005+11:00

Sometimes, while wandering,

when I cannot find which road

leads back the way I came,

the road goes anywhere,

and anywhere at all is home.

Muso Soseki

I am home, here in the mountains.

Poems and photos - for a while anyway - while I continue to ponder all that is in my heart and head.

Love to all.