Thoughtful. And funny. So funny! Considerate. Brave. Articulate. And rather fond of Korean cheesy corn… Six years old. Wise way beyond that.
Day 13. Tasmania.
Tasmania is so much about colour, which my posts of late have not been. Time for a change. This little guy certainly wasn’t afraid to stand out and be bright, unlike all of the others on the same plant. Never be afraid to stand out. It just means you are that little bit more interesting…
Day 6. Tasmania.
More music from the grey sea. A different tune from Day 2, but just as enticing…
Day 4. Tasmania.
Tasmania is just so full of a kind of everyday, lazy beauty. You don’t even need to seek it out; it is everywhere around you. In the trees, moving to their own songs of light and time. In the flowers, all reds, greens, yellows, whites. In the perfect blue of yesterday’s sky, and the perfect anger of this morning’s clouds. I’m not sure I even know how to go looking any more…
Day 3. Tasmania.
Today was all greens, blues, yellows, the base layers for primary experience. Trees, grass, sun, and heat – like a warm embrace. We knew where we were going for a change, but that’s so not the point…
Day 2. Tasmania.
There’s something about living near the sea. Sometimes I go for days without thinking about it, but it’s always there… you feel it, hear it, smell it, whether consciously or not. At night sometimes, you can hear its rhythm, sometimes gentle, sometimes violent. It speaks of possibility, other places, growth, adventure, challenge. I wonder, then, how I will cope with the boundaries of a fixed horizon…
Day 1. Burnie.
The objects in the view don’t change, or if they do, it happens so slowly that I never see it. But every day, the canvas is rendered differently, the brush strokes of the clouds sweeping in different lines, textures, the palette changing from soft greys to vivid blues. Today, a gentle mist seems to defy the heat, chewing away at what seems most solid, most permanent…
Weekend drives with the map turned off, finding just one new road
past paddocks sutured with crooked fences.
Walks among the trees, wind sighing and swaying and
sun peeking through the ceiling of green, lighting our path.
These are just some of the