Especially if you’re grumpy, make art.
You might find a seed in your chest
or a leaf in your claw.
I come home
How very art therapy
They are still setting up for opening night of Vivid when I’m on my way to Sydney Writers’ Festival. One sculpture captivates me.
I see drawn outlines of the human body, with words written inside.
Write, I mean, right, up my alley.
On closer inspection,
The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.
(I’ve always loved this quote)
I head into town for a publishing seminar called Forest for the Trees. It’s a collaboration between NSW Writers’ Centre and Sydney Writers’ Festival.
This is kind of
Blanket State Meant
Exactly one year ago, it was exactly one year ago.
Get to the point, Sally. You’re hedging.
Exactly one year ago
I’m not one for quoting poetry. I’d kind of like to be, but I’m not.
My Dad was, but I’m not.
Some people have a perfect, poignant poetic morsel for every occasion, but
where the Art and Soul roam,
where the handcrafted miniatures play…
…where silence is heard
in the tweet of a bird…
…and the city stress scuttles away.
(to the tune of Home on the Range)
How might I help you make a commitment to YOUR creativity?
I would indeed like to.
It’s been two years of Friday snippets and snoppets.
Two years of shaping
Where did it go?
We most likely had a bucket-load of this magical curiosity-and-amazement stuff when we were children. The world was an intriguing place of potential. A cardboard
the Nature of Nurture
My Muse-in-Chief is my dear departed Dad, David Swain. He would have loved the ease of using a smartphone to photograph quirky