… up, as always.
… up, as always.
… to the movies. Midnight Oil 1984, I loved it, I wanted it to go on and on, watching the story of that year. Then thinking of all that came after.
An Art Deco movie theatre
An empty cinema on a Saturday night, which had ten people in it once the movie started.
A dancing man
… I went to a memorial service for a 49 year old woman who I knew, she was a parent of students at my previous school. It was a celebration of who she was but also terribly sad. Twenty seven years married, now she was gone, mother for 17-22ish years, now she is gone, last of the theee children of her parents, now she is gone.
Towards the end of the service there was a timeline of her illness. The cancer came early in 2014, was gone by the end of the year. Then it was back in 2015 found at a regular check up. Treatment, immunotherapy… chemotherapy… then it moved … it went … it took her.
As this was being said I felt my body clench, I feel my breath now shorten as I write. If I was sitting my legs would be jigging up and down, I feel that horrible falling stomach …. at the end when we were standing about a few of us started talking about that timeline, my friend leant over and touched my arm, “You weren’t okay then were you?”
No I wasn’t, it is the fear, it sits below the surface … I thought it was not so dominating but today it consumed me … not for long but for long enough for me to remember that black fear, that is lurks and can take over.
… down, about and up.
Some sort of seed pod or blossom in the middle of the playground that caught my eye.
Looking down on a walk in the neighbourhood.
Looking up on the way out to get coffee.
Swirls of clouds making me smile.
And the colours of sunset.
… where I saw this but it is true!
I remember my first lessons as an Art teacher, I was ready, I had my resources, I had exploration activities set to go involving food dye.
At recess I ran to the phone and called my friend Kerry – also an Art teacher, also doing these activities that day. When she came on the line I told her, “Don’t do the activity, we got the paper wrong!”
She said two simple words, “Too late!”
That day there were two art rooms flooded with food dye, because as it turns out litho paper doesn’t absorb like cartridge paper would have. Pools of dye on the tables, pools of dye on the floors … we live and learn.
… bought, half sorted, bits started, too much TV watching!
How long will it sit there I wonder?