Gone Creating


Every now and then I need a blog writing break.   Whilst I’m away l feel free to look back through the space here, or go and visit  Northern Gal  or Ripple Poetry.

There’s so much going on I need space to breathe,  think, write in long hand in my notebooks, prepare videos, a book launch, folios, exhibitions (a local one the Sydney one was postponed), see my son finish year 12 and sing duets with my daughter.  She’s thinking about learning the bass guitar.  My kids are thinking about busking, so we’re looking into that too.

I am doing my best to have a break from social media for a while too, just need thinking space, a retreat to gather projects, ideas,  to be out and about with my camera, and be in real space friendships, family, and collaborations.

Be well, happy, creative and believe you can make a difference…

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Writing /living Country

Finding the Fields of Memory – June Perkins

Standing on the edge of a circle of parents
talking about how many lessons they take their children to
on the treadmill of taxi parent hood
and the dreams they have for their children

Driving past the circling hawks that
even hang out
over the local supermarket
or the carrion on the road

Midday day terrors as a cane truck drives
up behind me too fast and honks on his horn
to push me off the road
and I am driving the speed limit
on a back road home

Listening to poetry on a verandah
about places, and domestic violence,
aids and post colonialism
and treaties that hide in
big words and non meaning words
that are tinged with superiority

Staying at a friend’s house and
wandering out to take sunrise pictures
but waking the dogs

My best friend says she can’t follow more than
four blogs about things that mean something to her
there are just too many blogs and too many stories
it’s cluttered chatter if you
are pulled into the vortex of blogland
And we laugh and continue to plan our book

A room full of marking and
a loung eroom taken over by
end of year teacher stress
and my dear husband who is
in that profession so many put down
but they are underpaid, overworked
and those who care so much work so hard
if only more parents could see our lounge room flood..

Writing country
or is country writing me
with memories and somewhere are the lost youth who’ve
given up on life and I wonder
how we rewrite the country to be a place to grow and dream
and not end up speaking
of yet another suicide

By June Perkins