Friday, 29 March 2013

Good Friday 2013

How sweet to have an extra gathering of our church family to start our Easter celebrations today!
How lovely to have a day to take a break from work and all the normal demands of everyday life!

So, instead of washing, I made gluten-free hot cross buns.
Instead of cleaning, the kids and I decorated eggs (emptied for scrambled eggs this morning).

This is a good, Good Friday.

Thursday, 21 March 2013

A Few Things Found

Last week Ania DÄ…browska, aka Finnabair or Finn, taught a couple of classes right here in Sydney and I had the absolute pleasure of almost 9 hours of creative arty goodness.

Even though I have known about these classes since half way through last year I still didn't know what photo I was going to use until two days before. But then, when I found the photo, I knew it was the one! It was a gorgeous photo of my Dad's mother - a Polish beauty - and I don't know much else about it. I think it could have been taken 100 years ago!

Everything started to fall into place... Polish art teacher... Polish paternal grandmother... found objects from father. A work of art with lots of meaning - I like that!

My Dad collects bits and pieces from the road when he goes on his walks around Ballina - he picks up everything from nuts and bolts to wallets and jewellery, from car parts and kids' toys to iPods and phones.
Northern Star Newspaper cutting on my fridge
When I went to visit Dad and Mum last November, Dad showed me his workshop. It was a treasure trove of found objects. There was a mobile made from tow bar covers hanging in one corner and a couple of arrangements glued onto boards sitting on the workbench. I don't think there has ever been a time when Dad hasn't been making something or collecting something.

I sifted through Dad's collection of bits and pieces with delight. And purpose. I knew I would be doing one of Finn's steam punk-type layouts and wanted to tap into this seemingly never-ending stream of goodies. I nabbed a few pieces and tucked them away in my suitcase, hoping that my carry-on baggage would not be overweight. With another two 'loads' delivered to me I had plenty of choice when it came to doing the class.

Only in November Mum had announced, "When Dad dies I'm going to throw all this rubbish out!" 

But then, the other day Mum was ruing the fact that her own mother had thrown away many of the lovely things that her father had created and she said, "You can keep Dad's rubbish."

I told Mum that I had a special surprise for her coming soon using some of Dad's 'rubbish'.

"Thanks for sending Dad's rubbish back to me! It must be special to send it." Mum replied. 

I gave a Mum and Dad a sneak peak of the layout over Skype the other day and Mum said "Ok, you can send that!" Little did Mum know how beautiful Dad's rubbish could look! 

Wednesday, 13 March 2013


O sleep, O gentle sleep,
Nature's soft nurse, how have I frightened thee,
That thou no more will weigh my eyelids down,
And steep my senses in forgetfulness?
― William Shakespeare

Hormones! O vile hormones!
You steal my sleep and wreak havoc on my soul.
Once you were precious, the creator and sustainer of life,
But now you remind me of my age, you forecast the end.
Hormones begone!

Relieve me from this living death and give me the craving of my soul.
― Diane Sylvester