I've had a busy week.
No time for blogging.


Tonight
I relax alone
watching a movie.
Eat Pray Love,
to be precise.

I take scissors and paper

and snip snip snip
while I listen.

I see wishbone shapes
and curly letters
falling..

snip snip snip

birds and hearts.

I unfold 
a mandala..

and I wonder

is it the end result that is important
or
the little shapes
and the
in-betweens
that
happen along the way ...



( Paper mandalas make wonderful doilies for under cakes and cookies! )

The flower is a butterfly tethered to the earth..
the butterfly is a flower set free.

R Steiner.

This doodle is inspired by Flora s Bowley
and a quiet time at the lake..


i want to paint colours
like flora s bowley
droplets
and chrysalis
and
echoing rings on still water

yesterday
in the silence
of a cool fresh morning
i sat at the jetty

the mirror water as still
as still
and the tall raupo reeds
scarcely moving
their dance
of bending
and swaying

when
a
flora s bowley
dragonfly
tip - tip - tipped
the glass water surface

leaving
flora s bowley
intersecting circles

then stillness
and gone..

my camera lay helpless
on my lap

lap - lap - lap
went the stillness of water

oh
flora s bowley
paint me the dragonfly
and the never ending circles
on
mirror
water

I seem to have a penchant just now for stories of survival.
I have read five books about walking the 500 kms of the Camino.
I find it fascinating to read how people cope and why they choose to test themselves
when they could just as easily stay in the comfort of their home.

Last night I watched yet another episode of
'I Should Not Be Alive'
Two men stuck on a tiny ledge on the top of the French Alps in a massive storm
for days on end.
Freezing cold.
Dehydrated.
One survivor and he lost hands and feet....

I am horrified and enthralled
and all the time I am doodling away
and the doodle I create
is
summery
and light
and butterflies...

how weird is that?

When I look at my doodle later it reminds me of a Rudolph Steiner quote on a card
I was given years ago.

Kinaesthetic?
I listen better when I doodle.
In fact my hands like to be busy knitting or stitching or doodling
while I listen.
When I hear music my feet have to move.
How about you?

Perfect Winter's Day.

Winter has arrived at last.
There was frost on the rooftops this morning.

I try to eat food that is locally grown or grown in NZ
and just now NZ oranges are available.
They are juicy and sweet. Mm ..mmm!
Little wonder a tree full of orange circles appeared in my doodle!

Orange globes... juicy suntraps.

A sunny winter's day
is just the day for Victoria-Sofia and me to go to the lake cafe
where it is French Toast Week!

Victoria-Sofia insisted I take a photo of her grinning
instead of smiling.
She does not believe me that seven-year-old girls
look beautiful with gaps!

Outside in the winter sunshine
the playground is full of children and parents and grandparents.
Victoria-Sofia
finds a friend
and this winter's day
seems perfect.

I sit and chat to friend Josie.
We laugh at the children

and the sun
and friendship
warms
us all.

Last week it was rainy and wet and cold.
Even the pigeons in Auckland were fluffing up their feathers
to keep warm.


Today after a chilly start
the sun came out and the day was warm.

Victoria-Sofia and I went down to the lake.
She met a friend there

and they had lots of fun together
while I sat and chatted to Friend Josie.

Some very strange beings were there too,

and the gardens were looking lovely even after
the wild wet week we've just had.

Thank you Victoria-Sofia for a happy day.

Monte Cecilia Park and Pah Farm

My friend Eileen came from Wellington to stay with me.
46 years ago we were student nuns
living in a house of studies in Auckland.



It was then called Monte Cecilia.
Originally it was a private home, Pah Farm.
Purchased by The Sisters of Mercy it has been a boarding school
for girls, a study house for student nuns and a refuge for homeless families

This beautiful home has been purchased by the Auckland City Council
and is today an art gallery.

Eileen and I went to visit Pah Farm
and memories flooded back as we wandered through the house and grounds.

The phoenix palm in the garden reminded us of passing time.
It is twice as tall.
The kingfishers that nested in the palm used to dive bomb on us during the spring.
Now they are so high I don't imagine they will be worried by those walking beneath.

The chapel is now a gracious space for art.
It was certainly a visit back in time for Eileen and me.

I am so grateful for the years I spent with The Sisters Of Mercy.
They were years of education and learning and spirituality that I will always treasure.

Friendships formed then are so dear
and there is a sisterhood that will
endure forever.

I am happy the beautiful grounds are now named
Monte Cecilia Park.

These sweeping fields were were more overgrown
when we were living here.

During our afternoon recreation hour
this was where we walked and explored

and played games like sardines.
A form of hide-and-seek.
I remember the tree we discovered with delicious fruit that were
neither apple nor pear but had the taste of both.
We named it the Papple Tree.
Maybe it was a Nashi Pear unknown then but common now in NZ.

It was here that Petra the Donkey lived.
She was left by a travelling circus with the proviso
that one day they would return for her.
They never did.
We all loved Petra.

Today there are some rather strange residents at Pah Farm.


This fellow appeared to be asleep

and these looked to need a good square meal.

"Come pensive nun, devout and pure,
sober, steadfast and demure.."

Sacred art has been replaced
with timely words,

and patron saints of a different kind.



No holy virgin in the niche beside the stained glass window
but
an oversized lego-man instead.

I know I should have been looking at the art
but I love every bit of this special house.


The mellowness of carved wood.

The ornate plaster work.

The fireplaces.

The chandeliers.

The front stairs.

Thank you Pah Farm / Monte Cecilia
for the happy memories.

So did the young girl who owned the book of naive poems leave her family
and run off with a young man?

No.
With somewhat romantic notions and teenage zeal
she went off to become a nun.

They were happy years of learning.
Thirteen years never to be regretted.

Strange how I dressed my Pedigree Elizabeth doll as a nun.
Living in the country, we never saw nuns.
After the death of my father when I was 16,
my mother, sister and I read aloud a book called
"The Deliverance of Sister Cecilia" about a sister who rescued Jewish children
in Europe during the war. I was very impressed with the story and was inspired to dress my doll.
The doll is long lost and this photo was given to me recently, as was the book of poems.

It was while working at the Mater Hospital later, that I met 'real' nuns,
and decided this is what I wanted to do with my life.

A long time ago now.
At age 30 I left and later married.
To this day I am blessed with wonderful friendships of the women I knew then.