Rainy Days, Never Mondays

Too many tedious, rainy weekends: it's messing with my head. I’ve seen a few films. I’ve drunk too much coffee. I’ve caught up with all the news and read a few novels. But mostly I’ve cleaned. The linen cupboard is pristine. Even the pillow cases have been bleached. The car is spotless and the garage has been swept clean of mud and leaves. I've composted tired summer plants and potted some sweet scented winter bulbs.

With potting mix still under the finger nails, I looked around last Sunday evening and felt a tiny jolt of pride in my newly ordered, sparkling house. But anxious thoughts intruded. Perhaps the big wet had triggered an obsessive compulsive disorder. Perhaps nonstop cleaning indicated I needed to get out more, even if it meant getting soaked.

Grey Matters

On a stunning autumn morning I parked the car and followed a procession of stylish people to Carriageworks in Redfern. We bypassed the pots of herbs and ignored the aroma of Columbian coffee and freshly baked bread. Chirpy volunteers with bright smiles stood by the door. They seemed immune to the early hour and the icy breeze that whipped around the growers market outside.

"Welcome to TEDx Sydney 2012," said anyone with a clipboard.

At Your Heels!

Sydney Morning Herald, April 30th 2012

We have a shoe thief. She is shameless and persistent.

We used to leave our shoes on a sheltered verandah, far away from the street. We preferred quiet entries and wanted to postpone the wear and tear on timber floors. It worked for 10 years, living this way.

It takes a brave person to open the rickety gate, walk down a floodlit path and repeatedly steal every pair of size eight women's shoes lying on that verandah. Given three people in the house share a shoe size, our thief was spoilt for choice during 2010.

Dorothy

I find myself drawn to vintage bathing suits and the stories of the women who filled them. Bathing suits hide as much as they reveal. Like a woman's body, the fabric becomes threadbare and worn, yet she is still strong and imposing. Both the bathing suit and the female form continue to be a rich source of inspiration to explore memory, nostalgia and the transitional phases of womanhood.

The pretty postcard flier lay snail-nibbled and slimy in the garden bed under the letterbox. Josie meant to throw it in the trash, but something about the words drew her in and serendipity took over. They shared a love of nostalgia. They had worn vintage clothes for decades. One had been collecting vintage swimming costumes. The other had been painting them. When Josie walked into the exhibition space, she saw the artist before she was pointed out. She wore an emerald green party frock. Josie’s was blue.

Boxing Day in the Swill

On Boxing Day, veteran yachtie Caroline Wheeler said “It’s fair to say there’ll be plenty of people spewing tonight.” I love boats, but I came to know what she meant. Following a rare invitation (I only know two people who own a boat), I was up early the day after Christmas. I slapped a few slices of leftover turkey onto stale bread and grabbed my hat, wet weather coat, a towel and sunscreen. Boxing Day marks the start of one of the most difficult races in the world, the 65 year old Sydney to Hobart Yacht Race and I was going to be at the starting line when the cannon exploded.