Filed under: art
As some of you who regularly drop by notafigment territory will have noticed, I’ve been getting into working with charcoal on a more frequent basis this year. I love the malleability of charcoal on a paper page. At times I get frustrated with my lack of control over its mark making, usually when I’m on a quest for detail, but on the whole it’s my favourite medium. Even the telltale black fingerprints that manage to make their way all over the intentionally clean parts of the page; it’s all part of the coaly goodness.
I don’t usually like talking about my art in a big way. I prefer the concept of people taking what they want from it as they reach different milestones in their own life journey. This piece is the result of a few drafts from of a wealth of thoughts that have swum their way through my mind for some time now. I’m intending on making it the first within a series of works.
Just spent a deep smile-inducing afternoon sharing time with a friend. It has been so good to connect over a shared love for music and expressing this through our voices and our instruments. Music isn’t something I’ve written about much in this space but it is so much a part of my everyday. I suppose I don’t write about it regularly because it’s more often a medium through which I think and experience rather than being the object of my thought or my experiences. But to share music is like sharing a good home-cooked meal – it’s inviting the other into a part of your world and giving something of yourself in a vulnerable way. As my friend and I partook of the one song our voices united, weaving notes like aromas. It was refreshing to do so. It makes me sad that music has become a money-fetching item to be produced on mass for greedy sods in plastic castles. Music should not be merchandise. Yes it’s something to share, but sharing means giving generously and of yourself. I like the fact that so much good music is so readily available to all through the radio and the net these days. It just makes me sad that it’s so controlled by people who don’t know anything about it, people who don’t care anything about it, people who are only interested in the way it fills their bank accounts. I hold to the belief that as music is a timeless creation, it will survive this age and be carried on amongst those who have ears to hear its authentic heartbeat.
Filed under: contemplation
Is it just me or do different groups of people conjure unique characteristics in the individual? Hanging out with some old friends this arvo has made me feel like I used to. They continue to joke in the same old way, as though reciting from the same old joke book. They expect the same old answers from me. And I’m comfortably slipping into the old roles without a second thought. I believed I had grown as a person. Yet within these reunions I still feel like the anna of three years ago. Of course I’m still anna. That goes without saying. But I feel as though I’m a malleable being, ready to fill the same old mold and be the shape of the moment. Is this the reason why we become distant from certain friends? Is this why we continually say goodbye to one set of peoples and say hello to the next?
Not that I do this much. I love the idea of relationships that stand the test of time. I love friends you can meet with after years of distance and it feels like only a couple of months lay between visits. But it does happen from time to time. School friends for instance… Work friends… Not sure where I’m going with this one… Anyway, I think what I’m trying to say is that some people bring out the best in me and others the not-so-best. How cliché.
My time and inclination for writing has slowed down to something of a trickle over the past month. A busy schedule is the main culprit. When a little time becomes available in between the planning, the early rises, the later nights and the changing of flat, nail-embedded, tyres (that one was Sunday’s adventure) I attempt to enjoy it. In these little moments, rather than write I tend to have opted for having a lie down to listen to a few tunes on the old cd player, for soaking in the new spring sun and for picking up the charcoal and having a bit of a draw. This last one is probably because my beloved camera is broken and in much need of a good service. How I miss picking up my new packet of prints and perusing the pictorial contents… it’s always been one of those sweet surprises.
I’ve also found I’m over willing to take up opportunities to get out of the house and to escape the turbulence of full time teaching (as student teacher). These flighty diversions seem to regularly fall on Saturday’s nights and seeing as I work every Saturday night I’m finding I’m getting to bed later and later as the weeks roll by. Probably not ‘late’ for some of you night owls out there, but this bird is generally a true dawn chorus hatchling. The thing is I’m still waking up ultra early because my body clock has adjusted to the 5:30am starts with school. The sense-driven vegetarian in me is saying I need to up the sleep or get some iron into the veins. In the past lack of sleep has quickly escalated my consciousness into zombie status throughout the waking hours. Despite this reasoning my immune system has been holding up unexpectedly well. My mind seems to be thriving on the learning occurring in the classroom and I’m really not feeling the slightest bit lethargic. I’ve just under two weeks left and here’s to hoping that it all continues in this fashion.
The new season’s wind has come bringing with it a surge of childhood smells and feelings to recollect. It’s almost as though summer has pre-empted spring’s arrival, eluding the time usually set aside for bulbs, rain and fresh growth. We’ve gone from winter chills to summer thrills in a matter of days. Whether it will last or not is another thing. Anyhow, this beautiful change occurred over the weekend, allowing much time for thinking and drawing while soaking in the warm sunshine, something I have deeply missed throughout the icy months. I have a favourite spot outside my bedroom on the roofing where I set my seat and bask in the all-encompassing warmth. It’s just too good to resist – even if the work looms like a cloud over my metaphorical skies.
So while I was sitting and drifting in and out of attention to the cares of the world I began to think about a longing I sometimes get. It’s this unfathomable thirst that takes over. It’s not just a head thing, it’s almost like I can feel it in each and every muscle, right to the tips of my fingers, deep in my shoulders. Nevertheless, a drink won’t suffice. It’s much deeper than this. I yearn for total submersion. To have water surround me, to be in me, through me. It’s in my feet too – they ache to swim and push the water that holds them. I think it’s usually when I’m really thirsty that it comes over my being. Maybe it’s the mermaid blood in me. I wouldn’t mind living by the river so I could just swim whenever it beckoned.
Filed under: life
Life’s busy and the days are sneaking by undetected by me. I don’t know where the past few weeks have disappeared to. Where do they go? Where do the moments hide? Just got off the phone from a friend who’s just waaayyyy too busy for living. She’s working morning to evening six days a week. I crumple under a five-day week. Don’t know how (or why) some do it.
Anyway, just wanted to post something because a couple of weeks have dropped from the radar without my knowing. I’ve been reading a few blogs here and there, just not finding time to respond. Thought I’d leave you with a pic of my boy Billy. He’s a carefree little fella. Only concerned about the people he faithfully waits for at the coming of dusk. He doesn’t waste his precious time on deadlines or running from fears of ill success. He just snuffs for compost and a warm lap. If only we could all be so free.
I am wildly, absurdly, dangerously busy but not really acting like it. I find when the pressure is turned on and the deadlines come in big fat waves I tend to go into a safe and happy place called Daydream Land. I don’t really have the time to sit here and blog, but what the hey, I’m going to do some other mind-numbing and nonsensical time-filler anyway, so why not make it a bit of a record of what a fool I am in the midst of demands. Who knows, maybe, just maybe, I might learn something from it all…
So here’s a list of some of my Daydream Land activities:
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Stopping by each op-shop I pass, insisting on taking myself in, and finding something to spend the coins on that keep falling out of my broken wallet on. I found an awesome orange beanie for $2 on Monday. Also found a nice new headscarf, and a summer skirt. Buying stuff always makes me feel just a little bit better
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Eat a truck-load of pistachios. Mmm. Their irresistible salty goodness is too good to be taste-bud-true. Oh yeah, busy little study sessions also require a plentiful supply of green tea.
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Play with the crazy idea of having my own little place to live in and to decorate and to invite peoples over and have a happy dog to greet the peoples.
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Write letters to people I’ve been way to busy to write to before I was actually truly busy.
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Play Mr.Squiggle on the back of articles I’m meant to be reading. And sketch all my thoughts away.
There’s plenty more Daydream Land things to do. It’s also very good for song writing and bird feeding. Anyway fellow bloggers, I’m off to try a little more of the real study stuff. Tchuss.
