Storytime

Last weekend the Yarra Ranges held an 'open studios.' It gave the public the chance to see artists in their natural habitat---well their studios. It gave us a chance to ooh and ahh, to see and listen, to admire and for myself, to wish I could be so artistic. It also gave us a chance to catch up with some people we had not seen for many years. Yanni Rigos,   has the most wonderful studio nestled amongst the trees at his home. We know Yanni and his wife Jenny through our children (our sons went to school together - in fact find out about Daniel here ). Over the years many hours were spent in each others kitchens waiting for our boys to finish doing whatever it was they were doing and get ready to go home. Yanni works with wood and makes the most wonderful boxes (we have several at home) and inspiring sculptures. So it was great to catch up (although briefly) on the weekend. Trying to fit in the past years in a few minutes is always hard. 'What are the children ...

Last weekend I went away with my writing group  for a retreat. During these weekends away we tend to write, read, workshop and talk writing. I, being a great procrastinator, also take walks and a lot of photographs. This weekend was no different. I wrote a little, I read a little, workshopped various pieces, took a few walks and even more photographs, edited quite a few poems from earlier this year and I thought. That was my real aim for the weekend, I wanted some serious time thinking exactly where I wanted to head with my writing. I don't want the scattergun approach. To attempt a dozen different styles and genres of writing. I wanted a focus.  I wanted to think whether I should spend my time writing poetry or short stories- whether to focus on young adult novels or adult novels....or perhaps junior fiction. Hence my need for some thinking. However...the more I thought about what I wanted to do, the more confused I got. I love poetry- love the ...

On Mother's Day I headed up to Bendigo with my daughter and niece to see the Grace Kelly exhibition . We walked around the gallery, oohing and aahing at her clothing (THAT dress from Rear Window), her jewellery and handbag (now THE Kelly bag) and of course her wedding dress. She was definitely a style icon, not only of her time but by the vast numbers of young people viewing the exhibition, of later generations as well. As I drove home, both girls nodding off in the car, I thought of icons and how they inspire. Then I began to think of mentors. Of those out there who push us along. And with writing, we so need that push, well I know I do (and hopefully in the right direction). I have been very lucky. I have great support from my writing group , who encourage, push and inspire me to try things I would never have thought possible. When I first began to write I was invited to a writing group in Box Hill. Nervously I went, clutching a short story in my hand, wondering if I wou...

I had last week off work. Mainly because I was told I had too much leave accrued and had to take some...NOW. So I did.  My main aim for the week (apart from not thinking of work) was to read. I was going to hit that pile of books that wait patiently for me to get to them. In fact I thought my week would look a lot like this... That was the idea. However the first two days were lovely and sunny - so of course I spent them in the garden. I gave up books for trowels and trugs and...managed to get quite a lot done. Garden wise, but not reading wise. Then the weather turned and I did manage to catch up with a friend for lunch. And make a block for the National Year of Reading quilt that we are attempting to make at work. As this was my first 'proper' quilting attempt (I've appliquéd and crazy patchworked and even hand patched before) and I was using an 'idea' from the net, this took quite a few hours...but it was finally accomplished and has been sent on its...

I recently saw my first Burlesque show. It was part of the Emerald PAVE festival and was wonderful. Not only did I love the colour and costume, the music and choreography, but to me it represented what real performance is all about. The MC for the night was the multi talented Lilikoi Kaos Not only did she keep the crowd under control (the bar was open) but she kept the audience exactly where she wanted us. We were under her spell. Hers to command. This is what performance is all about. In performance poetry there is not that much emphasis on costume and lighting, but music plays a much bigger role than ever before. And timing and effect are still vital components of a good show. What really came to my mind, was delivering such a good show that the audience were left screaming for more. The luscious Becky Lou(above) was a great example. And perhaps the style of entertainment, and the open bar, helped to fuel the audience participation...but there is much for a writer t...

Today I'm taking part in the My Most Beautiful Thing Blogsplash to celebrate beautiful things - inspired by Fiona Robyn's new novel, The Most Beautiful Thing. Bloggers from all over the world are taking part and writing or posting pictures of their most beautiful things today. I don't think I really considered how hard it would be to pin it down. At first, as most people would do, I thought of family and friends. Of my husband and children, of the place I live (in the Dandenong Ranges, outside of Melbourne, Australia) .... But the more I thought about it the more ethereal it all became. Until yesterday, driving to work, I realised what it was...it is the fact that I have the freedom of choice. I choose where I live, who I live with, where I work, even the fact that I work part time. These are my choices. I choose to either do nothing all day and eat crap, or do some exercise and eat well. I choose whether to whinge and complain or make the best of things. It is al...

During the school holidays I did a Storytime called Wombat Stew (based on the picture book by Marcia K Vaughan and illustrated by Pamela Lofts). I set up my campfire - branches with red cellophane, placed the billy on top and we began to cook our stew. To those who don't know the story, dingo catches a fat wombat and is excited about making his, yummy in my tummy, wombat stew. But wombat's friends come along to offer their advice on what ingredients a good stew would need. Before the wombat is added, dingo tastes the concoction, insists he's been poisoned and runs away. The wombat is saved. I repeat - no wombat was stewed, sautéed, flambéed, fricasseed or roasted during this event. To make wombat stew is easy. First we added water- blue cellophane. Then some billabong mud - brown crepe paper. Then the fun ingredients---flies, creepy crawly bugs (plastic critters), feathers and gum nuts (both real). Each time I added an ingredient, I stirred the billy. And each ti...