Words June Perkins
Art Paulien Bats
Tag: Paulien Bats
Journey of a Book
Paulien and I have been talking about a book – a collaboration of my poetry and her illustrations.
Now we are finally to action it.
Why have we talked about this? Because in highschool she used to illustrate my poems for a backpage of the school newspaper we were both involved in.
Our friendship has been, partly, because we both love creative things.
Why have we taken so long?
Hmm good question, life in general and perhaps needing to have an added impetus to ‘make it so.’
Our deadline is to have it ready for the end of this year.
It is almost the end of March. Will we make it! We are going to give it a go!
The poetry and short stories are written. Many of the pieces have been published in scatterings all over the place. Now it’s time to bring it all together into a collection.
Some preliminary illustrations are done.
Now I go over the poems and stories again, and perhaps have a mentor look them over.
Then it’s back over to Paulien who will illustrate and design the book.
I showed her some of the ideas of what I liked whilst she was visiting.
She did her own research and took many photographs of North Queensland, my poetic and story home, and drank deeply of the NQLD environment.
I am to send her some my photographs to add to the design and be part of the illustrations.
She will be able to have it ready for a printer or ebook transformation.
At the same time I have to do the isbns, book blurbs, library catalogue and sales space.
It’s time for our journey from idea and chatter, to finally become a book.
I am so glad to have my friend on the journey with me. I hope we can both do each other proud!
As for finances, I have saved a bit from having a job the last 6 months with ABC Open, and I hope to put a portion towards our creation.
Onward we go.
The idea for this book began with Ripple.
I Went Walking
Open Windows
Always so positive
Giving life and love to her children
Supported by her husband,
Painter of trees
Doorways and open windows.
Soul of Dali
Van Gogh
Once restless
But now finding that
Which they did not,
Finding her spirit and art
Can intertwine
Like the roots of a mangrove tree.
And what I know
Is they lived in the Outback
Spend time with the Aborigines
That she used to ride a motorbike
With a death wish
But now,
She can be Berneard Leech
Putty,
Soft clay in God’s hands.
She can sing with her
Paint
Blowing out notes with the brush
To rival a Dizzy Gillespie improvisation.
Closing her eyes to the world
And all that is therein
She will travel a pathway
To pioneer with her art.
The lonely journey
To look inside
To not hypothesise but to activate
And re-activate
The energy around her
Energy from a bustling gum-booted
Thea
While fulfilling mother’s pledge to a sure Eleanor.
Yet always,
She has energy to
Give to thers
To support others
When work with other art forms.
She is pioneering,
Not to a distant land
But in art
To find the spirituality that has been
lost;
She will pass through the open windos
And leave a handprint on this mortal
world
By June Perkins
Spirit of This Tree
Inside I am Tree
Inside I am a tree
I want to spring forth
And grow throughout the nine planes.
I know that there are many lands at my feet
Frost lands and Tropical lands
And many will form in my branches
I spread shade far and wide
And filter out the light.
The Hawk waits to hide herself in my branches
She is waiting for my journey upward
To become a canopy separating earth and sky.
I wait.
Inside I am tall and I will reach
My hands up and from them will
Spring leaves.
Leaves of books, leaves of learning
Leaves to sing and rustle
All the music of my birth.
Inside I am a tree.
By June Perkins
Koala and Mouse
For Tamsyn, Sandon, Rowane, Byron, Cheyenne
Koala found a rainbow stone
And left her tree, which was her home.
She went far to see a mouse
Who trampolined from house to house.
Koala and mouse went out to sea
They surfed and sang then danced with glee.
The grass was blue, the sky was pink
Koala was jumping with her gum leaf drink.
Mouse jumped way up in the sky
He trampolined to eat cheese pie.
By June Perkins
Ripple Poetry 