[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 18 June 2024].
owt wet
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 27 February 2024].
blood red
Two of my self-portraits - one from my wallflowers series, the other from my plush series - are included in Issue #123: Color 2024 of F-Stop Magazine, and both feature floral motifs: the wallpaper in one and my dress in the other.
This photograph, which I took in my parents' garden in Redland Bay in 2009, of a Cordyline fruticosa (commonly known as a ti plant) doesn't include a floral motif. But the leaves are so vibrant with the backlighting that they fit the colour theme I submitted to.
Since I've already shared the two photographs included in F-Stop Magazine, I thought I'd share this one alongside the news.
also perpetuating
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 7 November 2023].
untitled #9 [bromley, london, united kingdom, 2023]
thinking of home
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 15 July 2023].
I took these photos of Sabine's azaleas during my last cat-sitting for her before I went to Australia.
The blooms were beautiful and eye-catching.
According to Wikipedia: Azaleas and rhododendrons were once so infamous for their toxicity that to receive a bouquet of their flowers in a black vase was a well-known death threat.
But they were apparently immortalised by Tang dynasty Chinese poet Du Fu in the last two stanzas of his poem, Alone, looking for blossoms along the river:
The sorrow of riverside blossoms inexplicable,
And nowhere to complain — I've gone half crazy.
I look up our southern neighbor. But my friend in wine
Gone ten days drinking. I find only an empty bed.
A thick frenzy of blossoms shrouding the riverside,
I stroll, listing dangerously, in full fear of spring.
Poems, wine — even this profusely driven, I endure.
Arrangements for this old, white-haired man can wait.
A deep river, two or three houses in bamboo quiet,
And such goings on: red blossoms glaring with white!
Among spring's vociferous glories, I too have my place:
With a lovely wine, bidding life's affairs bon voyage.
Looking east to Shao, its smoke filled with blossoms,
I admire that stately Po-hua wineshop even more.
To empty golden wine cups, calling such beautiful
Dancing girls to embroidered mats — who could bear it?
East of the river, before Abbot Huang's grave,
Spring is a frail splendor among gentle breezes.
In this crush of peach blossoms opening ownerless,
Shall I treasure light reds, or treasure them dark?
At Madame Huang's house, blossoms fill the paths:
Thousands, tens of thousands haul the branches down.
And butterflies linger playfully — an unbroken
Dance floating to songs orioles sing at their ease.
I don't so love blossoms I want to die. I'm afraid,
Once they are gone, of old age still more impetuous.
And they scatter gladly, by the branchful. Let's talk
Things over, little buds — open delicately, sparingly.
In Chinese culture, it's apparently known as the "thinking of home bush", thus my title for this post.
Sabine's home has become something of a second home for me over the past year and a half, and spending time with her kittehs most months last year and many months this year so far has impacted my mental health positively.
Not to mention the enjoyment I get from the evenings spent in conversation with her the nights before she goes away. And the delicious and varied salads she usually makes us.
the hardest button to button
Whilst I was visiting Dad last month, we tried to sort through Mum's belongings to work out what to keep, what family or friends might want, what to give to charity, and what to throw out.
We didn't get to her sewing room at all, but we did at least go through her wardrobe, jewellery, bathroom items and some odds and sods. In short, the items in Dad's bedroom.
Before this visit, I probably wouldn't have even vaguely entertained trying on her clothing as we were vastly different in size, shape, and style for most of our lives.
This visit, I'd put on weight, so I wasn't quite so dismissive. Though I knew our sense of style was quite different, and there would likely be few, if any, items I would retain.
I wasn't wrong.
In the end, all I brought back to London was a white shawl (I don't know if it was handmade or bought. It doesn't have a label, but that doesn't prove one way or another), a cream and a royal blue scarf (both bought). And her wedding dress which was tailor-made for her, my Dad thinks, in Sydney.
I spent AU$50 on dry cleaning her wedding dress in Ulverstone before I left as it had rust-coloured mould marks on it from being stored in their walk-in robe in a corner with poor air circulation.
Despite not being kept in any protective plastic covering, it had endured well and came up beautifully from the dry cleaning.
Although unfortunately, at some point, over the years, Mum had unpicked all six of the Marabou trims that encircled the bottom of the dress.
Dad remembers seeing her doing this but doesn't recall what she gave as the reason. We don't know if they may be stowed in her glory box in the built-in robe in their front room (the room Mum used as a sewing room, where my piano also lives) or if she threw them out at some point. Hopefully, next time I visit, I can investigate that.
I remember Mum asking me, around age 18, to try her wedding dress on. She had been 24 when she and Dad married in 1970. The dress fit my 52 kg body perfectly. Except that my bosom was too small, so the bust was loose.
I remember at the time being astonished that my Mum had once been my size as most of my life that I recalled she had struggled with her weight, and in terms of body shape, we were different.
However, when I tried the dress on again at 21, it fit me perfectly.
Now, not so much.
But I love the dress, and even if I never fit into it again and never get married, I would like to keep it. (If I'm honest, marriage hasn't been high on my list of life goals). Maybe, at some point, it will be handed down to someone in our family to use again.
Meanwhile, there was no urgency to go through the things in her sewing room, so we focussed more on working through her clothes and personal effects in their bedroom. We knew others could reuse many of the items in there. And Dad's bedroom needed a thorough clean-out (which he and Cheryl did after I left).
I did try on a few things out of curiosity.
Mum had worked out her style quite early on in life. Though her dress size and shape may have changed over the years, especially as she put on weight, she knew that store-bought clothing was never as suitable for her as homemade.
She made my and my brothers' bathers when we were young.
She made my first collection of knickers with cute elastic and patterned stretch-cotton material. I'm sure my brothers' knickers were also of her making.
She made us vests (singlets for those of you in Australia), the odd t-shirt, many dresses for me, and trousers. I'm sure Mum made many of my brothers' shorts.
She was also a keen knitter and made me various vests (sleeveless jumpers) and jumpers over the years.
Looking at what we took from her wardrobe, she'd probably narrowed the patterns for her clothing down to about 5-6 styles of tops/shirts. And one set of more formal clothes, comprising a suit jacket, trousers (dressed up or down, depending upon the material) and a skirt (also mostly one style, with material variations). She knew what suited her shape and size and worked with it.
She taught me from a young age to shop with the thought of how an item would work with what I already owned. If I were buying a top, trousers or skirt, how many items of clothing already in my wardrobe would it work with?
She wasn't a big dress-wearer as they didn't suit her shape.
But as a dress-wearer, that translated into ensuring my jumpers, tights, shoes, etc., would match any new dresses I bought.
She also taught me when contemplating buying clothing, "If in doubt, don't," e.g., if trying on an item of clothing and I'm unsure, don't buy it. It will just sit in my wardrobe, ignored.
I may have applied this test to other elements of my life over the years (specifically, relationships).
But, pulling out all her clothing, checking it for marks and cleanliness before donation, and reviewing anything that I might try on, over and over, it was evident to me how talented a seamstress she was.
Very little of the clothing we took out of the wardrobe had been made by someone else. All were well-made, well-kept and, in some cases, quite elaborate in their design, including a series of shirts made with fabric button-loops, as shown in this image.
Many would have avoided this type of work, but Mum had numerous tops with this buttonhole style and was quite confident in executing this sort of work.
She also chose some beautiful materials and colours for her clothes.
Dad split her clothing between a few charity shop chains in Ulverstone. (He was aware they often refuse to sell clothing to people in the same town where donated. Thus the decision to ensure they were a chain). I hope other women get a lot of wear from her clothes.
She made them with love and a passion for dressmaking. One she tried to instil in me but for which I had far less talent.
rue des mineurs
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 26 October 2022].
amber treasures
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 19 August 2022].
The last of my Gazania photographs from St Kilda Cemetery from my visit in 2007.
untitled #2
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 4 August 2022].
ross fountain
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 3 July 2022].
Apologies for the radio silence the past week.
I'm playing catch-up after a busy week of work, meeting up with old friends and meeting new people, and finding out more about some potential work.
My temporary employment is dropping down to 21 hours this week. I'm both pleased and nervous about it.
I'm pleased to have more time to do creative things for myself (and you!), but obviously, the drop in income is less welcome. The new work may fill that void but not immediately. We'll see.
Dad and I also managed to have one of our lengthy Skype calls this past week, and I've been wrangling with some health issues.
Last night and in the wee hours of this morning, I finally edited my photographs of Ross Fountain in the West Princes Street Gardens, Edinburgh. I took these during my last visit in August 2011.
Since it was restored in 2018, it looks different to when I captured it.
I hope to return to Edinburgh sometime in the next few months. I just need to arrange some reasonably priced accommodation or a cat-sitting gig there :)
ochna serrulata
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 21 May 2022].
Technically, these are the fruitlets and sepals of the Ochna serrulata, not the flower, but sepals are part of the flowers, so I'mma let this one pass through because they're damned purty.
Taken during a photo walk around Redland Bay in Queensland back in 2009.
They're designated as an invasive species in Australia despite their attractive appearance.
under her wing
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 15 May 2022].
side by side
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 17 April 2022].
angel in red
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 20 March 2022].
st eugene
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 21 November 2021].
communing with nature
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 8 August 2021].
A new image from my stained glass series for you this Sunday night.
Wednesday to Friday of this week was full of cleaning and life admin. On Thursday and Friday, I wanted to share work here but was too exhausted to manage it.
On the plus side: all of my flat except the kitchen and my bedroom is now clean and tidy. I'm hoping to get both of those rooms sorted early this week around everything else I need to catch up on now that I feel mostly back to normal.
Yesterday, some lovely friends visited my neck of the woods, and I was spoiled with a large, tasty lunch and lively conversation. It was good to see friends in person for the first time in almost a month.
Eating out and being maskless in a busy restaurant felt a bit daunting. But we managed to get a table on the edge of the outdoor area, which made it feel slightly less so.
The in-person conversation was complimented by another long and winding phone conversation with a friend into the wee hours afterwards.
Today was relatively short but productive. I feel like my body and mind are in recovery mode after a physically and emotionally exhausting week. So I'll be having an early night - by my standards - to try to help me face all the things I need to get through this coming week.
of hearts and flowers
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 27 June 2021].
Another long overdue catch-up with another lovely friend today. One who's also recently gone through a break-up.
Victoria invited me to Paris to stay with her almost ten years ago. She wandered through Pere Lachaise Cemetery with me as I took the images from my stained glass series.
So good to message with her today, despite the circumstances that brought us together this time around.
sign of the cross
[I originally posted this image as early access for my Patreon patrons on 23 May 2021].
his sacred heart
[I originally posted this image as early access for my Patreon patrons on 4 April 2021].
with open arms #152
[I originally posted this image as early access for my Patreon patrons on 10 January 2021].