zero waste dress

two places have become available in the zero waste dress class at Tambourine Mountain [Queensland] early in June - so if you like the idea of designing a dress using a pair of scissors and a piece of string, please contact Tarla Elward by swinging into the workshops page on my website and scrolling down until you find her details

ever so slightly nutty

 

spotted on the freeway driving up to San Francisco

on the way to the class at lovely Inverness

...

 

no, Officer, i was not talking on my cellphone

and yes, Officer, my vehicle was stationary

[in a traffic jam]

when i snapped the pic

...

and of course the car has a website

here

...

a little is better than none at all

i've had a scant two days in New Orleans

a small detour on the way to Inverness in NorCal

arriving at the witching hour very late on Monday

and

while my visit fell in the calm between the two weekends of the Jazzfest

i've still had a splendid time

warm welcomes from good friends

and a literal full baptism in a rain storm that filled my boots with water

 - they and my leather backpack are still quite squelchy -

my trusty bicycle had been pumped and polished for me

:: together we sailed along favourite byways redolent with an intoxicating fragrance

[magnolia, stephanotis and sweet olive, tempered with a hint of rose and a dash of iris] 

while luminous green tendrils of poison ivy wound their way

seductively up the live-oaks

wickedly whispering "touch me, touch me"

 

so it is time once again

to thank the wonderful folk at the Joan Mitchell Center

for looking after me so kindly

+

tomorrow i'll be at the airport at dawn

to be in San Francisco by lunchtime

and driving across that Golden Gate in the early afternoon

there was a time when i thought i might eventually have my ashes hurled into the Pacific from there

but now i'm thinking, maybe,

 

but not for a while yet, i trust

i have an exhibition to fabricate

ready for March 10, 2014

right here in New Orleans

intermission

how to clean a bugle

today is April 25th,

the day on which the Last Post is blown all over the country

as Australia pauses for silence to remember 

those who gave their lives in service of the country. 

wars fill me with horror.

my great-grandfather died on December 10, 1914.

it was the day after my grandfather's birthday

but when i rustled up our bugle this morning

thinking i might let loose a mournful note in memory

it was filthy and housing a number of unfriendly arachnids

clearly something had to be done

 

now the bugle is nice and shiny

thanks to the helpful acidity of the eucalyptus leaves

 i have a wrap i can hide in

 become a stone among trees

and the bugle yields a much more beautiful note

[Kowhai doesn't care she's too busy digging]

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.

At the going down of the sun and in the morning,

We will remember them.

 Laurence Binyon

+   +   +

and in the remembering, bear in mind

the words of another poet, Charles Causley

who wrote

O war is a casual mistress
And the world is her double bed.
She has a few charms in her mechanised arms
But you wake up and find yourself dead.

                             (‘A Ballad For Katharine Of Aragon’)

packing for the pond hop

 

i am supposed to be packing for the pond hop

but have been momentarily diverted, thanks to my new friend Jane Flower

who not only organised a wonderful workshop in the west

but kindly took the time to teach me a book structure i was curious about

i'm thinking i might make one for the Haystack auction

[lucky me, i'm attending session 2 there as a student this year]

i rather like this binding

it's addictive

and you can keep going for as long as you want

except that i had better get back to packing

speaking of which

thanks to those unspeakable cowards who misused perfectly good pressure cookers last week

my travelling dyepots [of the plug in kind]

are retiring.

i have no wish for cross-examinations by airport security.

[they take excessive interest in my luggage as it is and they can get very cross]

so i'm thinking of bringing this little chap out of hibernation

he runs on methylated spirits

and

provided i let the flame burn out to the very end

and pack each of the components separately in my back pack

[so i can explain, rather than having my suitcase torn apart]

it won't pose a risk

and now to re-home those spiders...

+

and in the good old days, i might have taken one of these

woolmarks

 it was a bit sad

bumping out 'muddy waters'

fortunately i had other work to do

eucalyptus magic

never fails to delight

a special 'botanical alchemy' event

those of my readers who have met me

will know that cooking is a passion of mine

alongside my more public pursuits

so when an email came out of the blue

enquiring whether i would like to give a class

at gorgeous Glenmore House in NSW

[on the edge of Sydney]

 famed for kitchen gardening and seasonal cooking days

and for fabulous lunches prepared by proprietor Mickey Robertson

i was delighted and said YES please

[especially as, serendipitously, i was planning to be in the region in any event

to meet with my publisher, on the way home from Queensland]

in this one-day retreat

we shall be dyeing soft wool travel wraps

with leaves from the property

and making a lovely Tsunobukuro bag in which to keep them

while Mickey cooks us a delicious lunch 

please click here for the link to the booking form 

and if you are wondering what's on the plate in the picture

it was today's breakfast

toasted spelt bread

piled with a mix of yoghurt, spring onion, basil, dill, danish fetta

garnished with tiny slices of fresh chili

and more dill.

yum.

  

earth matters

driving to Murray Bridge yesterday to pack up my exhibition 

took me along one of my favourite local roads

first there's a bit where the eastern escarpment of Mount Lofty Ranges drops away 

into what locals call "the flats"

where looking into the opaline heart of the continent brings to mind that line from Dorothea Mackellar's poem My Country 

impossible to photograph as the camera gives it a one-eyed squint 

that simply doesn't capture the grandeur

it's the kind of landscape that is best drawn or painted

so i can't really show you the big picture

on the other hand i can show details.

 driving along this road should take about 40 minutes

it can take me all day

later, heading back up into the ranges

i stopped for a closer look at a new cutting

and found

contemporary petroglyphs