This week is National Reconciliation Week. In Adelaide I stumbled across the ‘KURU ALALA - Eyes Open’ exhibition by the Tjanpi Desert Weavers in collaboration with two visual artists who are immigrants to Australia; Columbian-born, Maria Fernanda Cardoso (link to website) and New Zealand born, Alison Clouston (link to vimeo). This was definitely one of the jaw dropping moments of my Adelaide experience. 

The sculptures in this exhibition made me laugh but I also found myself wanting to sing, cry and take a nap all at once… a breath-taking collection of artworks made in response to a series of bush trips and artists’ camps held in the Ngaanyatjarra and Pitjantjatjara lands of Central Australia.

I don’t have permission to post pictures of the artworks but follow the links and you’ll see… if you have your Eyes Open that is!

It occurs to me that one of the reasons I had such a strong response to this collaborative exhibition is because it mirrors a little of my story…

In 2006 I spent a few weeks being hosted by the Congress mob in in Port Augusta in Adnyamathanha country. I was with two other whitefellas including my Taiwanese-Australian friend, who was practically adopted by some of the local elders they got on so well. 

I grew up in Wellington, Australia, near Dubbo in western New South Wales, where my Dad was an engineer and my Mum was a teacher at a local Aboriginal Primary School. My time in Port Augusta in 2006 was, in a kinesthetic sense, a reconnection to my childhood home. Something about the Adnyamathanha ways felt in my body like how I’d grown up in Wellington, NSW.

Me and my Mum - 2011 in Melbourne.

Even though I’m white as white (Anglo: German, English, with a bit of Welsh - and probably a few other places - heritage), something connected that I still can’t quite explain. When I returned from Port Augusta to my home in Sydney I couldn’t speak of my experiences for many months. I may have been experiencing what I’ve heard some people describe as ‘reverse culture shock’… I’m not entirely sure how that works, but it was clear I was grieving. 

It seemed extreme to me, as the girl who hates computers, but chose Computer Studies over Aboriginal Studies in High School when they were the only two elective subjects that weren’t full. How could I have suddenly become a champion of Aboriginal rights?

Relationships; living together; learning from each other, that’s how.

The ‘KURU ALALA - Eyes Open’ exhibition is on at the Jam Factory in Adelaide until June 7, 2012. For more information about National Reconciliation Week see the Reconciliation Australia website - http://www.reconciliation.org.au/

So it didn’t take me long to discover where it got the nickname RADelaide! Here’s the first installment of highlights from my recent trip to the gorgeous Australian city, Adelaide.

My fabulous hosts, Cathi and Ian, put me up for the week and for starters taught me how to enjoy fine Indian cuisine at their favourite restaurant, the beautiful, Clay and Coal in Goodwood road.

I was delighted a few days later to find myself at their friend, Josh’s launch of Magazine Gallery. Joshua Fanning is co-publisher of Collect, a magazine about people and places… “Small cities - and the small cities within cities…”

I tried in vain to snap a pic of Freddy the resident dachshund. This was as close as I got.. he was a fasty!

A self portrait on our final feeding day: Black Betty and KFC (the
chooks I was helping look after), decided it would be fun to climb
onto my back for a cuddle!

Black Betty, you’ve got a cool name and an awesome theme
song and if I were to change my name I might pass as a pirate,
but there’s no way you’d pass as a parrot.

Thanks for the fun times chickens, including a midnight feast
one night when Stuart and I couldn’t get there in time to feed
you during the day… sorry about that!

This poem was mostly written yesterday in a workshop called ‘Give Sorrow Words’ with Irish poet, Padraig O Tuama. It was an incredible afternoon and evening. Thank you Padraig, thank you Cheryl, thank you Christina, and thank you to Tina and all the participants for listening and sharing so generously.

With a nod to Halfway Down by A.A.Milne (in the 5th line) and a headbutt to my beautiful friend Sarah Bryan (in almost all the others) here’s my

Memory of the Sea…

Climbing without haste

Our shoes

A steady pace

And on reaching a place

That wasn’t up and wasn’t down

We stopped


On a beach with no sand

No sand

Just shells


What a wonder!


Sharp on our feet

Yet beautiful

To touch


I hold one now

To my ear

I hear


Nothing

I miss you

Let me get this straight… I put my letter in this highly convenient, pretty, red letter container and this same day some postie-type person in a mysterious red van will collect it?

This may sound silly, but it absolutely amazes me that people come, to every single one of these little red boxes on the street corners, not just once or twice a week… EVERY day, to pick up the post! From there it gets sorted and delivered! I just think that’s really cool.

I guess what surprised me when I was invited to respond to the questions below, as part of the registration process for a two day workshop, ‘Freeing Your Voice!’, was not how I spoke about my voice in the third person, but how much these questions brought to light. It was a sign of what was to come. By the end of the two days with Voice Movement Therapists, Trish Watts & Sophie Martin I was able to access so much more of my voice. This drawing was a response to the unleashing I was experiencing… I decided to draw using as many different kinds of marks as possible, playing with line, pressure, texture and shape.

WHAT IS YOUR RELATIONSHIP TO YOUR VOICE?

I adore her (my voice) but we sometimes we fight about self-care. I want what’s best for her and I think she wants what’s best for me but we don’t always know how best to look after each other.

I was aware of and fascinated by my voice and its capabilities from a young age and I’ve never lost that curiosity and the joy of making sound.

I love using my voice as an instrument and I want to develop this further without losing the spontaneity and fun that I enjoy when I play with my voice.

I’ve had trouble with my voice at a few key times in my life. At one stage I sought the advice of an ENT specialist because I was getting a lot of reflux and losing my voice regularly. The specialist put a camera down my throat, saw no problems and suggested speech therapy because he thought my speaking voice should be higher. I thought this was a strange diagnosis. I think I was stressed.

WHAT DO YOU HOPE TO DISCOVER DURING THIS WORKSHOP?

I am a singer. I know I am… but a singer is someone who sings, I’m not doing as much of that as I’d like to be. There are blockages there… perhaps with confidence, or fear of the power of my voice. I’d like to build trust with my voice and feel more ready to take the next steps, whatever they may be.

Trish and Sophie are offering similar workshops throughout 2012.
The next one is called Move your Voice! Embodying your whole self

If you liked this Paper Cat Tale you might also like this one or this one.

I believe there should be more hammocks in public places.

These guys brought their own to a park in Haberfield in Sydney one day. Seeing them there bought a huge smile to my face and caused me to pull out my camera to grab a snapshot of the world as it should be.

Wandering the back streets in northern Melbourne I stumbled upon the ultimate camouflage vehicle!

Perfect for those action hero moments… like when you’re driving to save innocent bystanders from an evil villainous foe and you see an ex lover but they haven’t noticed you yet.

Blend seamlessly into your surrounds with… “the AstroTurf-mobile”! Amazing!

It’s been 1 week and 3 days…

cocooned
inward
hibernating
careful
fearful?
not ready
how do you get ready?
waiting
watching
eyes closed
open
closed
every limb
folded in
cradling
holding
shake it out
opening gently to the new