"Without a Face"

Here we are in the thrall of winter.  A good time for thinking, reading, reflection.
Which is my explanation of where my time has gone.  It is easy to feel days go by quickly when the light goes by 4:30 p.m.

Last year at this same time (Dark Mofo Festival) my GF and I saw posters up of a campaign we had both pledged to via Australia's version of Kickstarter, 'Pozible'.

A young artist named Peter Drew (he is interesting, you should go read about him here: Peter Drew)

They were street posters that stated "Real Australians Say Welcome".
Because Australia has a low population, our nation wide coverage is more like coverage of one large state- or at it's largest the entire east coast of the U.S.
Also the continent is an island so people trying to seek asylum come by sea, this complicates the issue quite a bit.  

I think about immigration for many reasons, I am an immigrate who came from immigrates (although further back on my fathers side than I realised until recently) and I married a man whose whole family immigrated.  We, both, are advantageous in the fact that we are allowed to live in two countries.

We are very, very advantageous because we had a choice.

But many do not.

Peter Drews' latest series of posters is about creating folk heroes that are less recognised in Australia. He has been putting poster around Tasmania, and tomorrow with the start (of my) Dark Mofo events, I hope to find more of them up.  Including my favourite Dorothy Choon.

He has set me back to a place of gratitude and back onto a path to explore more Australian history.

Also this thinking about immigration is compounded by the fact that I am reading 'The Gene' An Intimage History by Siddhartha Mukherjee.  I had just heard him interviewed on The New Yorker Radio Hour when I came across his book. I think the book is an essential read.  

New Norfolk: Willow Court aka Salvage, Curated Op-shop treasure trove

Willow Court and its' surrounds, as far as we could sticky beak our way in...

There is going to be an art installation during Dark Mofo here...which I would love to see but I am not sure if we are here or back in Sweden...

 As this is my life or how my life has been...in a state of flux

 

St. Matthews Church New Norfolk-

 Above is my favorite window of the founding family.

...continuing on with my theme of how quickly (the south) of Tasmania is changing...I have a friend visiting and I used this as an excuse to visit New Norfolk.

The town square is unusual and striking, and I always knew the church with the stained glass windows existed, but I have only caught the church in sunlight a  couple of times.

 Sun streaming through the windows make a difference.

The last few years there have been more and shops- as well as now the willow court has been filling up with shops- salvage, antiques.

Since moving here I have heard bits (never a full story) about all these buildings (now referred to as Willow Court) that look like a small village- mostly the phrase 'insane asylum' was bandied about.  There are now audio interviews that can be heard about all parts of New Norfolk.

History New Norfolk 

Here are some photos of the church-

 

 

ANZAC day, memorials and the finding a feeling of Autumn

After the gym today, I thought I'd take a walk through the botanical garden.  I had a book on loan from the library that I wanted to finish (Just Kids, Patti Smith) and my home is still filled with the racket of construction work.

Hobart Botanical Garden 

 

But, I got a bit turned around, so I decided to walk the long way through Soldier Field, and possibly because ANZAC day is this upcoming Monday or possibly because today was much more a summer day than an autumn one, I read all the signs, and many (there are thousands) of the plaques.

Hobart Soldiers Walk 

I have only gone to two of the dawn services on ANZAC day (two more then ahem someone I know).  Part of that is because I have any known, family history with the wars.  Both my father and my step-father got out of going to Vietnam (the stories on the 'how' are varied).  I actually think they were both a bit young...17 and 18 years old in 1968.
  I have studied more about all the wars after I moved out of the U.S.  I don't remember ever seeing a war memorial in real life until after I moved.  Every town has one, and most families can trace their family history back a long way.  I started to go into every war museum I came upon (all through the U.K., Australia, Europe) and I often pull over to read the plaques in the small towns here in Tasmania.

Then I started to watch war films, and documentaries which I had mostly ignored before.  I had a really good online class called 'War in Media', all the classic war films and documentaries were part of the class work.

 
 

Monument Valley, beautiful as it is dry.

There are times in my life that my mind runs to what I think of as 'superstitious thinking'.  I see signs, and patterns.  I think I am manifesting my destiny.  I think I have the ability to jinx how a trip will go.

I have road tripped to areas of Arizona and Utah that are very beautiful.

Each time I have gone to them, has been some time of great stress in my life.

This all could be a coincidence, false correlations, seemingly causal and yet not.

Even in times of great stress- the vast openness and deep history of these areas- the fact that they are not yet overrun...able to retain at least parts of cultures otherwise crushed out does create an environment to feel oneself cut down to a more containable size.

 

"...in America they laugh at my jokes..." or "Call no man foe, but never love a stranger."

Today is a day in April, I am home in Tasmania and I have changed the way I drink my coffee.

For years I have been a medium strength coffee girl, with a splash of milk (the cooler the coffee...the faster I can drink it), and probably too much sugar.

Late in 2015 I started to think about the amount of raw sugar and flour I consume.  This is because I am, in my own opinion, good at avoiding processed foods (easy in Australia, much harder in Sweden).  However, at home we cook a lot and I started to wonder about how much sugar or sweetner I was eating just from coffee, tea.  

A lot of upheaval has happened in my life and my partners since about early December.  Although I felt change coming on earlier in the year.

These changes have been both internal and external.

Business, family, and personal.

I don't know if these shifts are lasting or if they are lessons to try and learn from, or an actual changes that could hang around for awhile.

I am not in a mental space to write even a letter to some friend that might still remember to check this blog and get updated on my life.  I am in a mental space to write out some truths (as I see them) only this forum is too public.

So I am just leaving myself some clues in case in a later year I want to look back at this time to jar my memory.

(Speaking of memories...I have decided mine is unreliable and in fact littered with details added by my imagination.  I realized this when speaking with friends about another friend who was not present with us, about her relationship to the place we were (my favorite dumpling house in L.A.), only to find that she had never been there, I had just slotted her in because I was so sure she'd love it.  More than that, the dumpling house isn't even specifically the type of food she does love...it's my version of what I think she loves).

To sum up what I would like to remember at a later date is this-

I have decided to drink my coffee with just a splash of cream- (Monte).

Perspectives do change about people and what they mean in my life, even perspectives I might swear would in fact, never change.  I keep proving this-so it is time to actually believe it.

There are reasons that I am where I am (mentally and physically) but I miss my friends whenever they are not within an easy drive or flight time.

Clues:

The inevitable emotional arc

Rat Shed

Pickles!

Gurka!

California will never completely leave you

No matter how you age, if you survive life is going to keep happening so try to participate fully.

 

 

"...well I woke up this morning...didn't know right from wrong..."

Whenever I leave a place that I live for another place that I live (or have lived) I fall into a mood of being pensive. "Mentally and spiritually preoccupied". As if 'returning' means I will be cut off from my current life.  It's a strange form of superstition. 

I just went through my blog posts of the last year, and I was jolted into seeing that it has been a good year- I am quick to judge myself lacking because I have this pervasive fear that IF my life is good, then it's only a matter of time before I ruin it through some act of selfishness or stupidity.

This morning, I can see that although this is a well-worn road, it isn't not true, or even relevant to my life now. 

 Also, I can see that this is also a reaction I have to having too many people in my life that are having problems all at once.  The same trait in me that I once thought would make me a good talk-psychologist has this impact of making me tense.  I thought that if I became a Psychologist I would have the experience and expertise to put up proper boundaries.

Or maybe boundaries isn't exactly what I mean- because I don't want to block anyone- I just need to learn to not let the misfortune (and by misfortune I mean a lot of things) of others color my own perceptions of my life.  

My feeling guilty that I have made good decisions it a useless reaction.

The fact that I went a month without putting up a blog post is akin to not writing in a journal for a month- although mostly my reaction to the pressures currently have been positive- more trips to the gym, I took some swimming lessons and Zok and I went snorkeling.
 I received letters and posted replies.
I had some selling dramas via Ebay but sorted it out and still came out ahead.
I may have played everything a bit safe these last couple of months but I think that reaction was reasonable.  A person can not always seek out adventure, or have the cupboards perfectly organized- sometimes life is about rolling with the punches.

We are leaving in a day at the unholy hour of 4 a.m.-
Eight hours later we will board for LAX - which at 14 hours seems short compared to our normal trip to Europe.
But I will still be confused, haggard, and stinky by the time I arrive to L.A.
Then less than 24 hours later I will be headed up to Sac.

But- through whatever happens I have that guy pictured above-
He is a good thing, that I should always remember-
I am going to see good friends-
I am going to not sweat the little things...I am going to let go of past histories that no longer serve me...I am going to mantra/self-help my way into grace and goodness.