look deep into the heart of a flower

photo by Christi Carter

if you bother to follow this blog then i probably don't need to spell out my thoughts on politics...suffice it to say that given my family history
and the stories i have been told by both sets of grandparents
each of whom chose exile over compromise
the results of the American election
coincidentally announced in Australia on the anniversary of Kristallnacht
fill me with foreboding.

what can i do about this? not a great deal
except
continue to live life to the best of my ability
continue to be care-full for my fellow humans
continue to hold true to the path that has been given me

now, i am surer than ever
that bending my work to the poetics of place
paying attention to being present, in 'being (t)here' as a way of life
rather than simply teaching "how to print leaves onto things"
is the way i must go.

yes, it means continuing to fly about in planes (windsurfing takes too long and my journals get wet) but that also means planting more trees at home to mitigate my share in the emissions
and because so many of you have kindly told me, both to my face, in emails, and increasingly in beautiful hand-written letters
that giving yourself the gift of time
(in a place that is not necessarily home)
to explore the small wonders of the whirled
through dyeing, drawing and writing
has made life better and richer for you,
i plan to continue doing this work.

because it gives me hope, too.

this past month i wandered to the remote western isles of Scotland
found deep magic there
took time to re-examine aspects of what i offer in 'being (t)here'
sat on the wild hillside and sang aloud
walked barefoot in the cold waters and refreshed my soul
brewed dye samples from gatherings around me

and thought about the return to my beloved Bay in February.
decided to make it smaller, more intimate
and to give the participants and even more beautiful collection
of things to work with, to experience and to take away with them

there will only be spaces for seven people this time
working with me, being fed by our chef (my daughter) Violette, and being guided in Yoga and breathing by my friend Shelley Boles

three places are already reserved.

please contact me here if you'd like more information

i'm also returning to New Mexico in 2017....in the spring and in the fall

and now, if you've made it to the bottom of the page, give yourself a beautiful moment. take a deep breath. look deep into the heart of a flower.

ripples in the mindpond

clouds in sky and field

one way

another way

and one more

stars underfoot

possibly too beautiful for words

there's something particularly lovely

about being able to wander

without shoes

and also

about being in place

taking the time to be fully present

feeling the wind on my skin

listening deeply to the music of the birds and the sea 

and the grasses and the small stones

and a flower opening slowly

more and more i feel this kind of slowness and mindfulness 

is where my work is leading me

discovering years ago

that eucalypts could print vibrant colour

(it was 1991 that i found eucalyptus leafprints on an eggshell

and began to put two and two together)

put me on an extraordinary path

and the longer i walk it

the more it seems that really

in the end

it's all about paying attention to this beautiful whirled

wherever we are

and no matter what other agenda is being perpetrated

just being (t)here,

it works for me.

the solace of north

i've been wandering

northwards

taking some visitors to country

that is quite unlike the place where they live

it's a long way there

but worth the trek

my role was driver and camp cook

and keeper of the flame

feeding the wood stove in the kitchen 

and the donk that heats the water for the showers

[the visitors very kindly took on the washing up]

but in between i still found time for writing

and for drawing on and with country

on the seventh day

i left the visitors in Port Augusta

to make their way to other things

and went north again

this time a little west

past a lake of crystal salt

for a few days quiet work at the Observatory

where i found

six contributions for the Solace project

already awaiting me

all the way from the UK and the USA

as well as closer to home

an invitation

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Solace

We live in troubled times. The news is frequently dismal.  Sometimes it seems our beautiful blue planet is under threat from all sides and I for one feel helpless when I hear of plans to send more and more young people to foreign countries as cannon fodder.

Spending a week in the arid lands of South Australia, revisiting a place I left nearly 24 years ago, gave me quiet time away from the depressing news bombardments. Time to think. It gave me solace.

And it gave me an idea.

Reflecting on Emily Dickinson’s “Gorgeous Nothings”, on the beauty of Tibetan Prayer Flags, on Claudia Grau’s lovely wishing trees and on the aleatory [impromptu or randomly generated] poetry that plays a role in my teaching I came up with the solace project. 

The notion of a collective impromptu poem, recorded on cloth, to sing in the winds.

Participation is open to anyone and is quite simple. 

Make a triangular flag or pennon [meaning a personal ensign, derived from the Latin penna meaning a wing or a feather] preferably using a piece of pre-loved cloth.

Stitch on it a word or a phrase or a sentence that might act as a wish for peace or an acknowledgement of beauty, imply a sense of stillness or simply something that  gives you solace. It can be as brief or as long as you like. A haiku, a snatch of song, a word that takes you where you want to be.

Attach ties to the tethering end of your flag as in the sketch below.

Post the flag [preferably packaged in paper* not plastic] to :

‘solace’

c/- The Observatory

PO Box 96

Andamooka 5722

South Australia

Australia


and what happens next?

 

During June next year I will be in residence at The Observatory. 

I shall spend time connecting each of the flags in the sequence of their arrival, recording the words on them as one complete circular poem.

Following this I shall prepare an organic indigo vat and on the day of the southern midwinter solstice in 2015 will overdye the flags in the blue of the heavens before installing them as a circle. if there are hundreds, then a series of concentric circles :-))

The flags will be documented photographically over time and the images and text will be available online as well as in a limited edition book. It may even be possible to make a short film. While I do not have the financial resources to distribute free books to participants, each person who makes and sends a flag will receive a limited edition postcard image of the installation, personally addressed to them and posted from the Andamooka post office. [remember to include your address if you hope for a postcard!]

It is important the flags be made from natural fibre fabrics as they will remain in place following prayer flag tradition, to dispense blessings and good wishes to the four winds...any shreds that part company from the whole must be bio-degradable. Additional decorations such as stone or glass beads, shell or wooden buttons are welcome, but please, no plastic.

Some of the proceeds from book sales will be donated to the Royal Flying Doctor Service, the remainder will go toward maintaining The Observatory. The solace project might not solve any of the world’s long-term problems; I see it more as a simple and beautiful collective gesture of goodwill...a glorious blue installation in the red dust lands.

and I hope you join me.

 

Yoda-san has.

*paper-based packaging from flags will be used in a subsequent project

observations from another edge

this week past i had the joy of a roadtrip to the beautiful Arid Lands Botanic Garden at Port Augusta [South Australia]

where i installed 'elegy' 

a sculpture composed of bones

for the Arid Sculptural Exhibition

[in turn part of the wider Arid Festival]

the bones were from cows who had died on our paddocks

mostly due to age and infirmity

one of them from snakebite

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the exhibition [and festival] takes the theme ‘life on the edge’  and i had proposed an installation created from animal bones gathered while walking on the edge of the land, the edge that is the surface where the land meets the sky. these collected bones seemed to me to celebrate the lives that have passed while providing nourishment for future life.

i have for some years now undertaken the stacking of found rocks as a meditative aside to my work in textiles and writing. these bones are a softer material. i planned them to form an interlocking cairn, using white clay as a bonding medium. the bonecairn, a placemarker intersecting the edge between earth and sky, would mark the edge between life and death and be devised to respond to the elements. rain might soften the clay, wind might influence the form, wild animals could likely create interventions of their own. to all this i was open. 

arriving at my allocated site it seemed to me that a cairn was not appropriate.
i felt [rightly or wrongly] that it would be too intrusive, would pierce the sky

and so i worked just a few feet to one side of that spot. 

laid the bones out in a big curve and sat in its gentle arc, listened to the land

and then one by one

bone by bone

built a circle. no clay required.

and after that
i wandered off again

so eventually i drifted into the home paddock

where i found a pile of mail
which included
a wonderful scarf from Hilde Blank in New Zealand
handwoven polwarth wool, dyed with eucalyptus

a precious bottle of my favourite scent, sadly no longer in production
when i heard it was to be axed i ordered some back up bottles and sent a note to Aesop bemoaning its loss...you could have knocked me down with a feather when i found a whole bottle had been sent me with their kind compliments

and magic dust! thank you Heidi, my sweet host at Titirangi. we had seen the empty space on the shelf marked "magic dust" when out shopping for gumbo ingredients in January and i'd expressed some curiosity as to what it might be. now i know. yum.

and although i had work to do
the forest was calling

there were mushrooms to be found
and picnics to be had

and later on
after a feast of potatoes and Lactarius deliciosus
to bed with some tasty reading

i love the way Nigel Slater writes about food.

the work:life balance

 

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