Sunday afternoon.
Just the time for doodling in my Japanese Moleskine
while I listen to Arts on Sunday -
about the first Pops Orchestra in NZ;
a nz radio drama;
a muso who has put kiwi poets' works to music
and a debut novel from Sacha de Basin,
THE DAY SHE CRADLED ME.
Sacha has written about the notorious Minnie Dean,
the only woman ever executed in NZ.
Sacha tells the story from Minnie's perspective.

http://podcast.radionz.co.nz/art/art-20120318-1440-chapter_and_verse-00.ogg


I doodle as I listen.

This is an earlier page inspired by  the exhibition at Auckland Art Gallery -
Degas to Dali,

and this is today's page about light and colour
and design.
A scrap of wallpaper design  was the starting point.
A visual diary is a wonderful means of recalling a day.
I'm sure Minnie Deans will come to mind whenever I look at these birds,
which was not my intention at all.
We will never know the truth of Minnie Dean.
She lived in harsh times.
No one is an island.

I've been fortunate to have visited Ireland several times.
It feels like home.
Love to my friends and family there..

and goodness..
but I think green does improve
my looks!

xoxoxoxoxo 

This little work of art
 I found inside a book today.
A book
I never quite finished reading.



A strange delight
to rediscover
something
created by one's self
and quite
forgotten...

like a small time travel
back to another
quiet
emotion.

The first thing I saw this morning
was a perfect web on my bedroom deck.

I should sweep it away
but I couldn't destroy such a masterpiece. 

The second thing I saw this morning was this bright hot-air balloon.
I should be making my bed but I stayed to watch
it sail over the trees.

The third thing I saw this morning was
the fabulous blue sky
and the shining of the sun.
I should be making my porridge but
I sat for a while with the sun warm on my face.

Now this morning I should go to the opening of the new hall at my favourite school,
to be dedicated to a favourite Principal who sadly died last year.
I should finish mowing the lawns.
I should vacumn the house and clean the windows.

Then I remembered.
Never should on yourself !

I have a friend who cares for her needy significant other.
Friday is her respite day. A deserved day off.

So,
not 'shoulding' on myself,
I gave her a ring
and said..
"Let's go for a drive.
Let's go to Raglan by the Sea
for fish and chips by the ocean."

"Oh Yes!" said she. "That would be perfectly wonderful!"
 
The fish and chips wrapped up in newspaper were perfect.
The flask of hot coffee just right.

The sun shone and the ocean sparkled. 

The greedy gull was friendly and cheeky. 

The fat cicada on the harakeke sang his heart out right where we sat. 

The greedy gull posed for the camera.
"Do you like my head to the right.. 

or my head to the left..?" 

In Manu Bay the left rolling surf rolled in for the surfers. 

The best kind of left rolling surf in the world.

We checked out the shops full of nic-nacs
and arty stuff

and had a final flat white at the Blacksand cafe.
Our day was delicious, reviving and magic.
  A most special day spent
 Down By The Sea.
And what's more I can tell you
there had not been one should..
not even a small one..
nor even a whisper..
not one single
should



 in the whole of our day.

 And the last thing I saw

was at home on my keyboard..
 a single white feather
carried in by the breeze.

Not large enough for a greedy white seagull,
but a totem of some kind..
just perfect for me..
some kind of a blessing
for giving up
shoulding..
some kind of a blessing
like a kiss from the sea.

Today friend Jan and I went to Woodlands, Gordonton,
for lunch.

(you can visit Woodlands here)


Jan and I worked together for fifteen years
teaching fondly remembered children with special needs.
We could write a book about our shared adventures, our successes and our failures;
the ups and downs of our own family lives we've shared;
the tears and the belly laughs.
So much shared history behind us
and now both of us are relishing our retirement.

We meet up on our birthdays
for a lovely lunch at Woodlands.. 

a place of beauty and peacefulness. 

Thank you Jan!
See you at Woodlands in June. 

James Hill... and his ukelele

I woke this morning to a cracker of a day.
The sun was shining;
a hot-air balloon was sailing over my house;
the birds were singing.


Tuesday is a day I do something special as an
art date.
I go somewhere alone
where I will be inspired.
This morning I thought of the exhibition at The Auckland Art Gallery..
"From Degas to Dali".

The exhibition comes from Scotland.
I suddenly felt like a rebel.
I will go with my friends later,
but today I will go alone!

I didn't even make my bed.
I pulled back the covers to air.
(I always make my bed.
Years of doing what I'm told and then 30 years married to a man of habit).
I showered and dressed.
I ate a banana and drank a glass of water.
I jumped in my car .. and off I went.

It takes less than two hours to drive to Auckland.
The drive north was most pleasant
 with the Waikato River travelling north beside me.
I listened to Radio NZ.
Catherine Ryan interviewing ukelele musicians from Canada,
James Hill and Cellist Anne Davison, here for the Arts Festival in Wellington;
some book reviews,
and a reading from the book GIFTED by Patrick Evans
about the friendship between Frank Sergeson
and Janet Frame, two outstanding NZ writers.

Auckland City was shining in the sun.
I found a carpark and walked to the gallery,
first enjoying a latte and a sandwich
in the gallery cafe.
At last I was ready for my art date!

I wandered through the exhibition savouring every painting.
Picasso, Matisse, Manet and Monet, Degas, Dali
and so many more.
I stood back and looked and pondered..
and got up as close as can be.
How wonderful to see up close how the paint has been applied,
to see the very brushstrokes of Van Gogh.

So many works were familiar to me from books and posters and reproductions.
Some surprised me how small they were.
Some surprised me by the frehness of their colour
or the simplicity of idea.

In my wee journal I copied lines drawn by Miro
and thought how I love to make marks too. 

I loved the simplicity of Calder's spider spinning on a thread
and casting shape-shifting shadows of a second spider on the wall behind.
A little collage by Eileen Ager reminded me how long it is since I explored the art of collage.

and I marvelled at the simplicity
of the line drawings of Matisse.

I walked down Queen St and up Wyndam St to the Cathedral
and sat in the quiet reflecting on what I had seen.

I thought of Picasso's words
" It took me four years to learn to paint like Rafael.
It has taken me a lifetime to paint like a child."

I thought about the artists at Sandz Gallery who have intellectual disabities
but who unconsciously paint their truth.
I thought of Martin's little granddaughter Speckly-Woo who paints with honesty and beauty and simplicity.

I have returned home enriched
and wondering.

Little doodle pages from a small Moleskine journal
carried in my bag.



Tolle says
never wait.
If someone says,
I'm sorry,
have I kept you waiting..
answer
I wasn't waiting.
I was just enjoying myself.
 

This little Moleskine journal
is always in my bag
for when I have time
to enjoy myself. 

One small journal
one ink pen
and
a small amount of
time. 

A ring around the moon
and a night of bumps and spooky noises
that has me jumping out of bed...
just to check.

I have a feeling
if we had a calendar that matched our season..
we would be heading for Halloween. 

but all is well 

and when I wake the venetian blinds
are gilded with 

a golden sunrise, 

and the trees are tipped in sunshine gold
and many leaves
hold the gold..
Autumn gold. 

I doodle a page of Autumn ponderings
and bask in
a golden gratitude. 

Today is windy and warm and wild
and I walked to Rostrevor St
to have a free hearing test.

I am told my hearing is almost perfect apart from some very high pitched sounds
that are no longer within my hearing range..
hence the observation in my journal below
that I may never again hear a spider sing
(did I ever?)
but the tinnitus in my ears means I can hear
cicadas sing all year round!
 
I found the cicada wing on my bathroom floor this morning..
and wrote my journal page while having a flatwhite
in Habit Cafe
before walking home.

AND
 look at this
I am writing
beneath my photo!
Thank you Blogspot!
At last.
I can use spell check too!
It feels like a happy day!

I think maybe I overdid the story words..
too much caffeine?

My latest page in my visual diary..

My macrocarpa Listening tree
by the lake.

The more I look the more faces I see.
This is an extraordinary tree!

Like the three faces of the Buddha

????????