Tag Archives: reflection

Things that fall

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Final image

I’ve spoken often about how I love to go walking in my neighbourhood, and I didn’t let the previous night’s storm put me off. It was still blowing furiously yesterday when I took off, cap on under my red jacket hood. Sunglasses too, to keep the wind and salt air out. The debris on the footpath had me stop at the end of the block, and there I stooped to uplift a fine collection of fallen goods. I picked up a large leaf, (from a magnolia I guessed), two small pōhutukawa leaves sporting radiant autumn colours, a seed of some sort and a small feijoa. Feijoas are loved and disliked in equal number here. I love them. To eat, one should slice them in half and scoop out the middle with a teaspoon, But this fallen delicacy was way too small to eat.

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A lull in proceedings

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For all my excitement about my new novel, and tripping about to speak at book stores etc., I admit the busyness over the past few weeks has seen me flop on my bed for ‘Nana Naps’ most afternoons, my thoughts of sketching lost in dreams.

However, I woke feeling fresh this morning (ye ha!) and made a start on sketching three small figs on a saucer, before taking off to walk by the sea. So lovely with the hint of autumn in the air and tui going crazy in the trees.

My batteries were re-charged.

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And what a week it was!

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Family group

It began well. Kerry and I flew to Melbourne for a couple of days so we could attend a special event. My son and family live there, and so we met for dinner in the CBD soon after arrival. I was so pleased Gelato was suggested after the hot spicy dishes. The ice cream was so delicious I could have eaten two. A quick catchup with Kerry’s granddaughter and baby great-grandson the next day, and back into the city to prepare for the event, which was a large gathering of friends and family to celebrate the life of a dear friend.

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No final painting but there is this

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La Femme au Bain by René-Xavier Prinet, around 1888

The final class was cut short, as we were to be given a talk about the painting by Charles Goldie, which is where the classes began. To recap, we were handed a copy of the painting and were asked to copy it. But what I never realised until this talk was, that Goldie had copied his La Femme au Bain, from an original, for on the bottom of the painting it reads ‘after’ René-Xavier Prinet. Both artists studied at the Académie Julian in Paris around the same time. So, I had made a copy of a copy. I didn’t know what to think. I guess seeing both men could certainly paint, I must have learned something through close observation.

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The last stages

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I worked a little on the painting yesterday, and this is the image here. I left it to dry overnight and returned to it today.

I will work on it a little tomorrow and hopefully it will be done.

I should have waited until the paint had dried to take the photo as every brush stroke is laid bare (unintentional pun).

I have decided to trim the image and focus on the model and not include the barely discernible chair at the periphery of the scene in the original. I think this format works better in my view.

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The Road Trip

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A taste of Melbourne traffic

The first day, did not start well, when we realised the rental firm where our vehicle was located was a long way from where we were staying. Family were busy, so an Uber was called, and we set off through the morning traffic. We will certainly study the map more throughly next time before booking. Nice driver, but hates Melbourne traffic. It was to be our first taste of this phenomenon, as we had never driven in Melbourne before and we would soon be amid the crush. Navigation set up, and co-navigator (me), whose job it was to read screen and report to driver. Anyway, we made it out of the city, (phew) and onto the much lauded Great Ocean Road! Ye ha!

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I believe in challenges, or I used to

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There is a new baby arriving any day soon, a great-grandson no less! With the baby being Australian, I immediately thought, ah ha! I’ll knit him a toy from my Australian knitted toys pattern book. It’s true, I do have such a book, and I found the perfect animal to knit. As an experienced knitter, and having made other toys from this book, I assumed it would come easy to me. However…

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What a couple of weeks it’s been!

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There is nothing so annoying as the computer when suddenly things go wrong. This was the case when I was compiling my post two weeks back. It wasn’t saving my writing, or images, and despite the best intentions, and help, the problem continued. I did manage to get a limited post out, that you may have seen, by closing and opening WordPress, writing one sentence and pressing save. Sound OK? You might want to think about doing that again and again, and still find the whole post, plus images still wasn’t saved. To top this IT mess off, I accidentally dropped my phone in the bath! I said @#$#@%** and a lot of other four-letter words. 

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All Sorts of Lives

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Katherine Mansfield (1888-1923) would be New Zealand’s best known writer of the short story. Thousands of students would have studied her in university; others would have read her just because she writes so well. I belong to both those camps. Katherine was born Kathleen Mansfield Beauchamp into a prosperous family, who lived in Tinakori Road, Wellington. She was bright, gifted in music and writing from an early age. But she felt a misfit in her family, thought her home ‘dull and claustrophobic’, and once she’d visited London as a teenager, yearned to live a liberated, and bohemian life, preferably abroad. She left for London on her own aged nineteen, became the writer she dreamed of being and never returned home. It is testament to her skill as a writer that we are still reading about her a hundred years after her death, and it is the book written to mark this centenary I especially wish to write about.

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Living with drama.

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I mentioned in my last post that my daughter Lara was staying with me, as she is directing a show for the Auckland Theatre Company – opening night this coming Thursday. That is … if the shocking weather we are currently experiencing here doesn’t put pay to that. I could say, well it won’t be the first time a show has been cancelled, and some of you may even think, so what? I’ll give you some facts here: personal ones. My daughter is an actress and director of stage; whether it be a drama, comedy, or a play with music, as is the current show.

All people associated with theatre in New Zealand have had it exceptionally hard since Covid slipped through our borders. Every show starts way before the curtain goes up, with the programme planned, often years in advance, before the call goes out for auditions. With other careers, during Covid restrictions, many people were able to work from home, thus keeping some consistency of work flowing. For the performing arts sector; face to face auditions could not be held, which meant actors had to video their own audition pieces and send to the director or directors involved. And even if they were accepted for a role, there were no guarantees that the show would go ahead.

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