Juniper’s World Journal – Page 9

Blog Break: Missing in Creative Action

Sorry I won’t be able to blog as much a while. There’s so many projects to catch up on and I have to prioritise. Today I was out teaching my daughter to take photographs.

She took this portrait of me.

Here she is learning about the camera and using the manual focus.

She became creative and took some experimental photos as well as portraits.

She enjoyed mucking around, but we did learn some rules as well.

She took some pictures of me at work and with my beloved camera. It’s fun having two cameras as it meant we could take photographs of each other at work.

So whilst I’m away, I’ll be into some creative action – doing video work, preparing for an exhibition, finishing a couple of books, finishing a story cartel course with Joe, and sending out manuscripts to publishers.

You can be sure I’ll still be working hard on the photography and writing, but right now just some seista time for blogging and facebook too.

May you have a brilliant and creative time. I’ll be back soon. In the meantime you may just see the occassional short update blog.

Can’t wait to share the projects but have to do them first! It’s a very busy and exciting few months coming up. A special thankyou to friends and family who are giving me support in this super busy time.

Thanks. Feel free to browse through the rest of the blog and leave messages.

Yours Truly,

June

Guitar Sunset

Continuing my holiday break from Miracle Monday and Saturday Writing Saga blogs.

A week of holidays have passed. We haven’t been going anywhere much, just to Mission Beach for an art’s workshop my daughter was booked into (she painted an Outback Cat) and into town for a farewell to a friend’s shop, they are closing after twenty years or so.

But we have been having a topsy turvey time – with our dear Pet Guinea pig Chocolate, suddenly passing away. We had a burial and funeral for him in the garden, and have been comforting our last remaining guinea pig, Soot, every day. He has a soft toy crocodile, about the size of a guinea pig to snuggle up to as well. We all feel very sorry for him losing all his guinea pig brothers, but he is responding well to all our cuddles.

My dear Hubby, had a stack of teeth pulled out, and is in a lot of pain adjusting to dentures. Yikes! He is not quite himself, but every now and then laughs and tells jokes and we know the real him is slowly coming back. We have nicknamed him ‘Toothless’ after the Train a Dragon character, just for fun.

We’ve had some brilliant sunsets, and they have inspired me to take portraits of my eldest son playing his guitar with the back drop of it, and to do studies of cane, clouds, and sunsets.

I am itching to get back into some concentrated writing, but have made myself finish projects, and completed the Smile Within photographic and text exhibition book and am just waiting patiently for my proofing copy to arrive before I finalise it, and organise the isbn etc.

After thinking about it for ages, I finally made a photo book of the children’s portraits and some nature photographs. I called it ‘Country Kids’ and will let the relatives know about it, after I check the proofing copy. I took the guitar sunset pic after I produced it and may add it to the book, or do a new one. I love making photo books, and there are so many programs to do them in now so I am giving them all a bit of a whirl to find the one I like most.

I am doing a Story Cartel course, must get onto more exercises for it today. The feedback from other cartel members so far has been useful. I am also trying to find some time read someone’s book this week to review, and looking forward to it.

Later in the week will be having some video mentoring! Looking forward to it, and working on a short script today for a video postcard.

Inward Search

I travel inwardly as well as outwardly, looking for stories to change someone’s future outlook, and for words that hang together the delicate and uplifting. The golden light perches on the cane and our pet Mynah bird listens and repeats all the bird song he hears and then calls to me to have a conversation.

It’s holidays, less time for writing, more time for living and finding stories.

So what stories do I find? Stories of a sick, perhaps dying pet guinea pig, my son seeing how starkly different city and country upbringings can be, my husband saying goodbye to his top teeth and hello to dentures, and my daughter learning crotchet from a dear Aunty.

We watch Footy Legends and Dance with Wolves. We discuss improbable plots, great characters, magic filmic moments, and unjust histories. My daughter and I read the same book series, and discover new worlds of ghosts that love humans. I do some of the Story Cartel course.

I worry about places where sweatshops exist and how many of them provide the clothes on my children’s backs. Something has to change.

The children are out gathering hay for their guinea pigs to lay in, out in the early evening, making memories that will always be theirs.

That’s holidays just begun.

Fourteen Summers of Discontent

Head over to ABC Open to read more stories of standing up for what you believe in. Click this for the rest of the story Fourteen Summers of Discontent.

Ripple Poetry

It’s my first poetry festival and I’m about to take a risk and read a rebel poem about a fight with Mum, can I do it? What will Mum do?

I had to read it. Fourteen summers of discontent as the big sister came over me.

It was my first poetry festival. Mr Kidd, my English teacher had encouraged me to share some work.

The garden of faces looking back at me included: my short Mekeo Mum and tall Australian Dad, fellow poets looking kind of poetical, people who I assumed liked listening to poetry as well as a few of the town’s local English teachers.

For the rest of the story and to leave a comment please head over to ABC Open’s 500 Words.

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She Shared Her Medal

This story appears at ABC Open’s I Was There – 500 Words Project

Head over there to read the work of other contributors to this project.

The Paralympics, in 2000, gave us one of the most precious memories of our life in Sydney.

My husband and I were living there with our two young children (our youngest was not yet born.) We were both looking after them, whilst doing our PhDs at the University of Sydney on scholarships, and had just moved to the inner city.

Obtaining tickets to the Olympic events was hard and expensive. We were on a pretty tight budget. We chose instead to watch the Marathon with some close friends, from the road side (cheering on the world with a banner and chanting ‘World, oi, oi,’ which people joined in with) and watch what we could on television, including the race to stop the Nation, with ‘Our Cathy.’

However, when the Paralympics came along there were many tickets still available and everyone in Sydney was encouraged to support the paralympians as much as the Olympians so we knew this was our chance to make it to something special. The organisers wanted full venues and began to offer cheaper tickets to some of the events.

We decided it was a brilliant opportunity to see some athletes doing their bit for their countries, and went to buy tickets to the athletics, wheelchair basketball and wheelchair tennis.

What an experience!

These athletes were so talented, humble and approachable.

We felt honoured to be able to witness their feats in the sporting arena and at the athletics there was an extra treat. Many of the athletes sat amongst the crowd between their events and freely mingled.

We were sitting a few seats down from a medal winner, Tracy, a visually impaired runner from England, and wanted to congratulate her on the recent win in the 200 metres we had just seen. She had blonde hair and a kind face and wasn’t very tall. Everyone around us seemed to be doing the same, so we didn’t feel shy to and began to approach her. Before we knew it my eldest son (at the time just a toddler) was sitting on her lap for a photo with the medal around his neck. I remember her coach or manager lifted our son up to make it easier for him.

She also signed our Paralympic program.

We saw her and other Paralympians as we wearily but happily made our way out of the stadium later. They were surrounded by admiring youngsters, having photos taken, autographing and encouraging them to do their best whatever life deals them.

They had no trouble being ambassadors as well as athletes and did it with such unforgettable dignity.

To this day, every four years when the Paralympics is on the telly we take the time to watch it. And although it may not be as commercially successful as the Olympics the stories of each of the athletes have a tendency to be inspiring.

We think back to our own special moment, participating in the history of the Paralympics.
(c) June Perkins