Secret women's business

Japan - Sign set

Graduation Day!

I didn't go to either of my graduations. I'm not big on those kind of things, and didn't see the big deal.  Looking back now it was a big deal to go to uni and get a degree while working (three jobs at once was my personal best), because it isn't only about the study - it's how you achieve the end result whilst balancing life. One of my gypsy friends has done a stellar job at balancing it all. She's also had to grapple with some pretty challenging decisions along the way, but in the end - well in the end she did it.

Save the date - May 10 Exhibition Opening

I just realised it is April next week. Starting to panic.

Where children sleep

A friend sent through a link to this amazing James Mollison project, Where Children Sleep. It is a series of portraits of children around the world and pictures of their bedrooms. It is amazing to look at the different environments children live in, and at times very confronting. Here is how Mollison describes the project - but you should all totally check it out:


Where Children Sleep- stories of diverse children around the world, told through portraits and pictures of their bedrooms. When Fabrica asked me to come up with an idea for engaging with children's rights, I found myself thinking about my bedroom: how significant it was during my childhood, and how it reflected what I had and who I was. It occurred to me that a way to address some of the complex situations and social issues affecting children would be to look at the bedrooms of children in all kinds of different circumstances. From the start, I didn't want it just to be about 'needy children' in the developing world, but rather something more inclusive, about children from all types of situations. It seemed to make sense to photograph the children themselves, too, but separately from their bedrooms, using a neutral background. My thinking was that the bedroom pictures would be inscribed with the children's material and cultural circumstances ' the details that inevitably mark people apart from each other ' while the children themselves would appear in the set of portraits as individuals, as equals ' just as children. 

My room growing up? I remember it being small but cluttered. A big window with lace curtains (and a sneaky spot for me to let the cat in every now and then). There was a pelmet which sat above the big window, and it doubled as a spot to keep my stuffed toys. Lots of stuffed toys. The walls of my room were covered with Holly Hobby wallpaper, and there was a shelf with books and toy things. Sometimes I'd pretend my room was a shop and the shelf was stuff to sell. Sometimes I'd sit on the floor and design my dream house. Sometimes I'd cry in that room, and sometimes I was scared - but mostly, mostly I'd say I was happy.

Yayoi Kusama from across the world

Turns out while I was at the Yayoi Kusama exhibition in Japan, my gypsy friend in London was making her way to Canberra town with a gift for me. A tea-towel from the Yayoi Kusama  exhibition she'd seen in the UK. The best part about that? Well, besides it being quite the coincidence that we'd both been to her exhibition in different parts of the world, it came in a two pack - so there is one in her kitchen too. And while she is so far away, somehow the tea-towel thing makes her world a bit closer.

Fig season

The figs this season are so super juicy. I think that's because of all the rain, so it has been figs for breakfast with yoghurt, and figs for dinner in salad or on top of pizza. This pizza dough is easy, and is just 4 cups of flour, a sachet of yeast, a teaspoon of salt and one of sugar. Mix all together, add about 1 and 1/4 cups of tepid water and some olive oil. Knead and let rise. Bang it out on a pizza tray after about an hour and then top it and cook it on super high (like 220 - 230 degrees) for ten or so minutes.

Bit of my holiday followed me home

Thanks to my wonderful traveling companions xx

National Poetry Day 2012

I while ago (well over two years ago as it turns out) I wrote about a bit of mystery mail I received in the yellow house's mailbox. Well it has happened again! Happy days!

Autumn is on its way

Lifeline Bookfair - Budawang Building EPIC Canberra

Such a fun way to spend a morning. Flicking through the records, and unwinding wonderful old maps. Great finds and some beautiful books. The best part? Swapping stuff. Sharing books and music with friends is always the best.

Warning! Words with feelings ahead.

Not many words of late. I guess I'm just trying to get back into the swing of things, plus let's be honest, I'm much better at pictures than words. The rambling, the cringeworthy honesty, the words that get published without me ever re-reading them. Well, it's about to happen again kids, so if you can't stomach it I'd be clicking out of this page right about now. 

So back to the story. This time it was nice to be welcomed home and to be missed. But that first weekend I started to feel unsettled and I'd brought that on myself. I'm not going to say how or why, but lets just say I'm an idiot. Restless and itching to throw everything out and to start again - all of a sudden this little house felt claustrophobic and old. This house is me there is no doubt about that, but still, it hasn't changed much from when we were all here together. And I think that's it. For one of us everything is new and different, and for the other it's all the same leftover life. The country-town city dotted with roundabouts, the overgrown garden, the house and its cracked windows and a big tin shed, the same old furniture, the spiderwebs clinging to the yellow weatherboard. All the same. Same dog too (but that bits okay).

But you know what I have to remember? The rest of my life is different because it is full of people who are just mine that I love. And the people that were once shared, well we have new memories now too. Maybe then its not so much the same leftover life, just the leftover shell and really that's okay.

Hunting and gathering - Japan style

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