This is one of the views from the balcony of a country riverside motel I stayed in overnight in the heart of western Victoria. The town, ‘Donald’, in the middle of the Wimmera was flooded in January this year, including the tiny motel I had booked in to – explains the lingering musty odour.
The arching wooden bridge (painted green) is just visible, reflection also. I had fallen into a ‘sink hole’ – metaphorically speaking and the two days away in the Australian bush was just what I needed, though not nearly long enough. Being a city girl born and bred, I love the wide open spaces, changing vegetation and friendly unassuming people.
Trust a ‘spinner’ to stroll into the local woolbroker and see what might be available from the local sheep farms. Lucky for me, the young fellow let me have my pick. First on offer was ‘superfine merino’ destined for the Italian market’s high end tailored suits. Beautiful, fine luxurious fibre, difficult and time consuming to spin – there never being sufficient time in life. Tempted, I declined. Next on offer was this….
Straight off the sheep’s back! A fine crimp with a lovely staple length, a little grotty with minor vegetation in the tips but I jumped straight in with much gratitude. How much did I pay for his glorious fibre? Nothing! It was handed to me -“have you got something to put it in and is that sufficient?” There is NEVER enough wool!!
A clean staple lets me know I have picked up a gem…
Have peeked in to some of the recent posts and discussions centering around art, economics, being alone in one’s own space to create and importantly using creativity to ‘gift’ to others. Personally, I find it difficult to eloquently paraphrase my thoughts online – like being camera shy, a brain freeze takes hold and the words become hidden in a wave of terror and insecurity with the comments appearing ‘lame’. Thus, I try not to say too much even though I am observing greatness.
There is an issue that does keep surfacing though and I am presenting it here come what may. Some of us are ‘movers and shakers’, creating unique and beautiful works in numerous ways and mediums, including those people that give their lives generously to others. Then there are those of us who are ‘workers’, whom for whatever reason just cannot pull that uniqueness together, try as they might. Perhaps for many reasons, known and unknown, they can follow, learn, serve in other ways and revel in the art that is before them. They may be artisans rather than artists and contribute in the best way they can. After much reflection, it seems to me that I fall into the latter category. Perhaps I am not dedicated or committed sufficiently to be an artist, as far as I can tell there is a wall that I cannot get over, and I am particularly tired of the line -” Is that your design?” If we are all designers, then who is going to purchase our product?
That being said, we only get to be here once (as far as I know) and everyone should make the most of that time and do what they believe in, what makes them happy, eases the stresses of the day. You know, the things that make you want to get out of bed in the morning. Bills will always be a problem, there is no easy answer to that.
None of this probably makes any sense, is relevant or well written but then, I am computer shy !!!!
And the Silky Oak (grevillea robusta, I think) is in flower.
Seems a nap is the order of the day.
Sweet dreams Sophie. Take care everyone.