Category Archives: Photography

Dud Photos – Thursday Doors.

Welcome to Another Thursday Doors

Today, I’ve decided to turn posting conventions on their head. Instead of posting my best door photo this week, I’ve posted the dud I took last Sunday while our daughter was wrapping up her weekly dance rehearsal for Swan Lake. These rehearsals are about a 20 minutes drive away and the studio backs onto the Mt Penang Parklands, which aren’t spectacular, but are worth a stroll and the odd photo, especially around sunset which the sky comes to life in all its golden glory.

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The Shape of this tree reminded me of a deciduous leaf where only its network of veins remains. 

“The tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the eyes of others only a green thing that stands in the way. Some see nature all ridicule and deformity… and some scarce see nature at all. But to the eyes of the man of imagination, nature is imagination itself.”
― William Blake

I absolutely love photographing trees…finding an angle and pointing my camera up through the branches and capturing whatever that something might be which has captured my eye.

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Autumn Leaves

“Listen to the trees talking in their sleep,’ she whispered, as he lifted her to the ground. ‘What nice dreams they must have!”
― L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

In the months our daughter has been rehearsing for Swan Lake, the trees have been busy as well. Their leaves developed a orange crimson blush, dried up, detached themselves from the branches and floated down to earth leaving a row of naked tree skeletons behind. As much as I love their bright green foliage, especially at the very outset of Spring, there’s an almost mystical beauty in these stark, barren twigs especially when they’re back-dropped by a bright blue sky, as they were last Sunday.

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However, just before I picked up our daughter, the sky turned gold and the brilliant golden tones of sunset flooded the stark branches with an inexplicable majesty. I was in awe. Hastily, I kept snapping away as I headed back to pick her up and captured the reflection of the tree in the backdoor of the studio. I didn’t expect it to be spectacular or even average shot. Indeed, I only took it to show my daughter what was going on outside while she was rehearsing, a variation of the concept of “while you were sleeping” which was graphically brought to life in  the Hollywood film. While she’s been rehearsing over the last few months, the trees outside have changed colour, lost their leaves and no doubt will have new leaves by the time they perform next month. Give it a few months, and we’ll even forget the tree was anything but green.

sunset twigs wide

This photo also annoyed me. Looks magnificent from a distance and yet the sun wipes out the line of the twig. Grr!

“Trees are poems that the earth writes upon the sky.”
― Khalil Gibran, Sand and Foam

Aren’t trees amazing?!!

I am absolutely in awe of trees and can’t understand why anyone could ever think you’re weird for hugging a tree. Why not?

Her eye fell everywhere on lawns and plantations of the freshest green; and the trees, though not fully clothed, were in that delightful state when farther beauty is known to be at hand, and when, while much is actually given to the sight, more yet remains for the imagination.”
― Jane Austen

This has been another contribution to Thursday Doors hosted by Norm 2.0 Please pop over and join us.

Best wishes,

Rowena

 

 

Día de los Muertos…Friday Fictioneers.

 

Tony was in Mexico for a conference. Yet,he somehow wound up in the backseat of a VW heading out to San Andrés Mixquic, southeast of Mexico City to celebrate the Day of the Dead. The streets were packed, but he soon spotted the most exquisitely beautiful woman he’d ever seen. She was almost floating up to the altar and left behind a handful of marigolds along with a black and white photograph. They exchanged smiles and she whispered:”todas somos calaveras”. Cupid’s arrow struck fast. Yet, as he reached out to touch her hand, she was nothing but air. A ghost.

…..

100 words

Phew. This week’s prompt was rather challenging and I’m not sure if the decor in this cafe was connected to Mexico’s Day of the Dead celebrations which are held annually on the 2nd November. However, that was the approach I took. Being from Sydney, Australia, Mexico is a long way from home and quite a bit of research was required to pull this off. I only heard about the Day of the dead for the first time a few years ago.

Naturally, I’d be very interested to hear from anyone who has actually been there.

Catrina August 21

José Guadalupe Posada, Calavera de la Catrina (Skull of the Female Dandy), from the portfolio 36 Grabados: José Guadalupe Posada, published by Arsacio Vanegas, Mexico City, c. 1910, printed 1943, photo-relief etching with engraving, the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston, Museum purchase funded by the friends of Freda Radoff.

In the National Geographic article listed below, I found a reference to Mexican political cartoonist and lithographer José Guadalupe Posada who created an etching to accompany a literary calavera. Posada dressed his personification of death in fancy French garb and called it Calavera Garbancera, intending it as social commentary on Mexican society’s emulation of European sophistication. “Todos somos calaveras,” a quote commonly attributed to Posada, means “we are all skeletons.” Underneath all our manmade trappings, we are all the same. I really liked that sentiment and hence incorporated it into my story.

Meanwhile, you might enjoy this further reading:

National Geographic – Day of the Dead

The Cultural Trip – Celebrating the Day of the Dead in San Andrés Mixquic

This has been another contribution to Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wishoff-Fields. Every week we write 100 words to a photo prompt. This week’s PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

Best wishes,

Rowena

Bye! Bye! Miss!

“You need not be sorry for her. She was one of the kind that likes to

grow up. In the end she grew up of her own free will a day quicker than

the other girls.”

― J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

/Tonight, we waved Miss off on her school ski trip. They were picked up from school in three massive coaches tonight and they’ll drive through the night to hit the slopes at Perisher Smiggins in the Australian Alps bright and early at 7.00am. By the way, if you’re used to skiing overseas, I’ll let you in on a little secret. The so-called “Australian Alps”, should really be called  “The Australian Mole Hills”. We don’t have real mountains in Australia.

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Loading up the bus.

Naturally, seeing her off was a tad emotional and yanked away at my heart strings, Although she’s now 13 and in high school, as she climbed on board,  it was like watching this tiny girl get swallowed up by this massive white coach and disappear.  Not that I was about to board the bus to yank her to safety. I’m not that pathetic. I know it’s only for a few days and she’s been away from us for longer trips before. However, it’s moments like these where you not only think about all the fun adventures she’ll have, but the gaps in between certainties also open up just enough to let in the doubt. The what ifs. After all, we live in an uncertain world where anything could change at the tick of the clock. Of course, these uncertainties are always there, but our routines and busyness block them out and we forget we don’t hold the remote control. That things can happen. On the other hand, I’m equally sure she’ll arrive home tired with a beaming smile on Friday. She’ll have been away on what will be yet another trip of a lifetime.

“I think she is growing up, and so begins to dream dreams, and have

hopes and fears and fidgets, without knowing why or being able to

explain them.”

Louisa May Alcott

Another thought crossed my mind as I started working on this post, we’re in the process of waving goodbye to her childhood. Indeed, it’s clear that horse has already bolted. That said, she hasn’t grown up quite as much as the photo would suggest. She must be standing on a mound because there’s no way she’s as tall as me. I’m a good 174 cm  tall and she’s nowhere near it. Just as well I took this photo below with her Dad, which brings her nicely back down to size. Geoff is the same height as me so she hasn’t shot up quite as much after all.

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Yet, she’s still grown up a lot since I first started blogging back in 2012. She’d only just started school the year before and truly was a little girl back then.

“All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what

we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before

we can enter another.”-

Anatole France

Jonathon & Amelia

The kids on my daughter’s first day of school back in 2011. 

 

There are people I’ve been blogging with much of those years and have seen my kids grow up, which is a really special privilege really. After all, it’s an incredible thing to see someone grow up, looking at their photos, taking in their adventures and stories and being a part of their lives even if you’ve never met, which is one of the peculiarities of these close blogging friendships. In some instances, we do know each other better than people in the so-called real world, but we’ve never met. Never gone out for a real coffee. Nothing. It no longer seems strange to me until I try to explain it to someone who doesn’t blog.

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Snowplowing on our first trip to the snow in 2012, aged 6.

Anyway, getting back to the trip, it’s going to be an experience for her. It was optional trip, and so many of her friends aren’t going, which has thrown her somewhat out of her comfort zone and she’ll be mixing with other students she doesn’t know and others where there are some tensions to boot. In effect, she’s stuck in a lift with these people for the week. While as  a teacher or parent, we can see this as a good thing and say a stranger is only a friend you haven’t met, as a teenager, is a whole different story. It can be unsettling.

Amelia Skiing

Back at ski school in 2013.

However, Miss really loves skiing and is is a fairly good skier, especially compared to most of these kids who won’t have been skiing before. That should give her a bit of confidence.  I’ve also seen her face light up on the slopes. She’s had the ski bug bad before and once she hits the powder, she’ll be right. I just hope she doesn’t sustain an injury, because that could be a disaster for her dancing. She’s performing in Swan Lake with Central Dance Company in four weeks. She’s not allowed to get injured and in hindsight, perhaps I should’ve put a roll of bubble wrap into her suitcase. That would be a great look out on the slopes, but I’m sure I could’ve sold a few bubble wrap suits to some of the other parents. While we say we want our kids to get out there and experience the world, we’re all lying. We really just want them to sit in front of the TV and stay safe.

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The kids with their snow kid in 2012. 

Meanwhile, we have one less person at home. For her brother, it means more chores but for me there’s one less fuss pot to feed and we could all use a few new stories. I’ve been fighting off some weird sleep virus so haven’t been much fun anyway. The week will fly by and all too soon, she’ll be back.

Well, that is except for the dogs. They don’t know anything about fun-filled ski adventures or the frolics of the sun. All they saw was the suitcase come out, and Miss is gone. Indeed, I could just imagine Lady thinking we’re hopeless parents. Don’t they even realize they’ve lost one? This is her song…

“No one to talk with
All by myself
No one to walk with
But I’m happy on the shelf
Ain’t misbehavin’
I’m savin’ my love for you…”

Meanwhile, I’ve spent a few hours tonight hunting down the photos from 2012 and getting well and truly lost down memory lane. Our son only has two more years of school and who knows how many family holidays we have left. That’s not to be negative and reflective. However, it is important to make the most of it. Find the time and money to get away. I’ve been thinking about a camping trip soon. That said, my husband and son will be going camping with the extended family up at Bathurst in a few weeks time to watch the Bathurst 500 Car Race. My daughter and I are staying home “to look after the dogs”, but she also has a dance production.

Anyway, I’m very late to get to bed and will head on now.

I’d love to hear about your skiing adventures or how you feel about your kids growing up and stretching their wings.

Best wishes,

Rowena

Weekend Coffee Share…18th August, 2019.

Welcome to Another Weekend Coffee Share!

Regardless of how you take your tea, coffee, or Bonox, around here you’re beverage of choice comes served with a mandatory side serve of stick from our over-zealous sheepdog, Rosie. There are bits of stick all over my chair and the carpet is looking like it’s been in a sawmill. The pups pulverize  these sticks until there’s almost nothing left yet still manage to deposit what amounts to a large splinter on my laptop expecting me to throw it. Some of them don’t make it very far they are that small. Indeed, I’m surprised they don’t disappear into the ether. However, as far as Rosie and her trusty sidekick Zac are concerned, size doesn’t matter. There biggest problem is how to get the humans moving. I’m sure they must be researching how to motivate humans. We’re worse than sheep.

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We spotting this ethereal moon rising down the end of our street during the week.

How was your week?I hope it’s been great.If not, there’s always next week, although in my experience it doesn’t work like that. That a good week doesn’t automatically follow a bad one out of some cosmic sense of fairness.

Overall, my week was pretty good, although I’ve been fighting off a bug and have also had sinus troubles. I’ve spent much of the week asleep, but had a few things on and have had to venture out. At this point, I’ve appeared on top of the world and my usual perky self and haven’t given much of an inkling that I’m struggling.

Rowena on stage

Hardly a rock violinist, but I almost look the part. 

Last night, I performed at an in-house soiree at the music school where I’ve been learning the violin for the last six years. I played Chopin’s “How Deep Is The Night”. This is a rather melancholy piece, which is also known as “Tristesse”… French for sadness. I had to pace myself yesterday. Needed to do some heavy practice, but didn’t want towear myself out. In preparation, I listened to Andrei Rieu play it, which was very humbling, but feel it gave my performance a lift. I’d been meaning to listen to it for months but hadn’t got around to it. While exams and performances are stressful, they do challenge you to lift your game put in those extra hours of practice and do what it takes to bring out the best in yourself.

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Here I am with my trusty sidekick Rupert Bear who was playing the broken-hearted romantic during my performance. Clearly, he wasn’t sitting there while I played. I’m not that good. 

Anyway, my performance went well. I did a duet with my teacher. I had to try and be steady. Not allow myself to be distracted by the faster quavers she was playing and hold my own. That was challenging and while I have good pitch, my sense of rhythm is shot. It was a good exercise, which I’d like to continue. I love playing with my teacher and she’s a wonderful encouragement…the wind beneath my wings.

This week, I also started a course about living with a chronic illness through our local health service. Since I’ve been living with my conditions for a long time now, I wondered whether this would be much use. However, I was blown away. The information is very useful and I was delighted to find one of my close friends is also doing the course and so she can be my partner in crime.

Red Door Pearl Beach

This red door in nearby Patonga appeared in Thursday Doors this week. Love a red door.

One of the outcomes of the course this week, was that we had to set ourselves a goal for the following week. It was something we wanted to do and not a chore. I probably should’ve been a good girl and chosen something exercise related. However, I’ve also fallen off my blogging perch over the last couple of months and so opted to write three blog posts this week. That was quite easy to structure around Friday Fictioneers  Wednesday night, Thursday Doors and now the Weekend Coffee Share. So, in addition to pulling off my violin performance, I’m also chuffed that I’m gaining additional information and support to overcome my health issues and making progress with my blogging again.

On that note, my posts this week have been…

Dancing In The Moonlight…Friday Fictioneers

Patonga- Thursday Doors

Moonlight in the Clouds

The Closet Violinist Breaks Out

By the way, if you haven’t visited Friday Fictioneers, this would be a good week to head over for a read and even have a go yourself. The photo prompt goes up every Wednesday and I guess the timing depends on where you live, but it’s night time here for me in Australia. The idea is that you write 100 words to the photo prompt. Some prompts work better than others. However, this week’s prompt seemed to work particularly well not only in terms of producing great writing, but also in termsof social commentary. After all, as writers we’re interpreting the world around us especially human interaction. These are definitely worth a good read. Here’s the LINK

 

Lastly, we’ve been attending meetings for both kids at the school regarding their subject choices for next year. This was fairly straightforward for our daughter. She’s two years younger than our son and it’s not life and death at her age. However, our son goes into Year 11 next year and despite what the school says offering words of reassurance, we parents know the hard truth. If this kid doesn’t work this out, we’re the ones picking up the bill. It might be his life, but it’s our bank account. We’re quite relieved that our daughter has chosen dance and commerce. That way,  when she’s a starving ballerina, she can at least work out how to budget. Our son is looking at advanced maths which is all well and good but we’re not too sure about his overall choices. I am generally pretty laid back as a parent.However, these subject choices have raised a call to action which makes bad cop look lame. Now, I’m left how to make NO, NOT OVER MY DEAD BODY!!! look more palatable and even how to get him to reach this conclusion for himself. Humph! It looks like we’re in for interesting times. Any advice would be most welcome!!

That’s not a good note to wind up on and I’m currently feeling like a lot more than a coffee if you catch my drift. However, I need to head off to pick up our daughter and her friends from dance rehearsal soon. I’m also intending to squeeze in a bit of a walk. This weird activity called exercise. Although I know it wards off colds, it’s the last thing I feel like doing when I’m under the weather.

Anyway, hope you’ve had a great week and I look forward to catch up with you over the next few days.

This has been another contribution to the Weekend Coffee Share hosted by  Eclectic Ali. We’d love you to pop round and join us.

Best wishes,

Rowena

 

 

The Closet Violinist Breaks Out.

Tonight, the closet violinist swung from the chandelier onto centre stage, dazzling the audience with a half-decent rendition of Chopin’s: “How Deep Is the Night” (Tristesse). However, if I’m honest, my entry onto the stage was much more reticent. Of course, I didn’t want to trip over which was quite a possibility with all the leads, drum kits etc to fall over. However, my violin teacher helped me out and my grand entry went smoothly. Now, I just needed to play…

In the days leading up to the concert, I second guessed myself something chronic.WHAT WAS I THINKING?!!! “You’re hopeless. It’s not ready. Don’t do it!!!” Of course, I’d done nowhere near enough practice. It was only in the last days before the concert, I actually got moving squeezing in all those critical hours of practice, which make such a difference yet almost came too late. However, despite the anxiety, I actually love performing and would love to get out there more often. It’s another one of those eternal, internal conundrums.

Rowena on stage

I could almost look like a rock violinist under these lights.

It was only a small soiree with fellow students and their families. Hardly playing at the big end of year concert, or heaven forbid, at the Sydney Opera House. However, no one likes making mistakes and there’s always that possibility of humiliating disaster. Yours truly has even broken her foot just before going on stage, but in true violinist fashion, it was on with the show. However, nobody in our household says “break a leg” before any of my performances now.

“How Deep Is the Night” is a particularly melancholy piece of music and the words are grab you by throat kind of dark…

SO DEEP IS THE NIGHT 

So deep is the night,

No moon tonight,

No friendly star to guide me with its light.

Be still my heart,

Silent lest my love could be returning,

From a world far apart.

So deep is the night,

Oh lonely night,

On broken wings my heart has taken flight,

And left a dream.

In my dream our lips are blending;

Will my dream be never ending?

Will your memory haunt me till I die?

Alone am I,

Deep into the night,

Waiting for the light.

Alone am I,

I wonder why,

I wonder why.

In my dream our lips are blending;

Will my dream be never ending?

Will your memory haunt me till I die?

Alone am I,

Deep into the night,

Waiting for the light.

Alone am I,

I wonder why,

I wonder why.

Frederik Chopin (m) 1832 Sonny Miller (l) as recorded by Richard Tauber March 29th 1940

However, who hasn’t experienced that all-consuming heartbreak and that sense of the surrounding darkness penetrating your soul? That’s one thing I don’t miss about my youth!

Unfortunately, I couldn’t share the words with the audience so I gave a brief introduction and parked a teddy bear in front. You can’t see it clearly in the photos. However, he has a red stone on his lap with “I love you” etched into it.

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I’d proud of myself for persevering with the violin, which has been very challenging at times. However, persistence and regular practice pays off. I’m making solid strides forward. It’s fantastic.

Rowena & Danni

Photographed here with my very encouraging and patient teacher, Danielle. We played as a duet. 

Do you play an instrument? Do you perform at all? Do you like it? I’d love to hear from you in the comments below.

Best wishes,

Rowena

Moonlight in the Clouds…

“No more words. In the name of this place we drink in with

our breathing, stay quiet like a flower. So the nightbirds will start singing.”

― Rumi, Night and Sleep

Last night, the most magnificent moon stood almost suspended among the clouds at the end of the street, an exquisite jewel of creation. Our street is rather ordinary and nothing like watching the moon rise only metres away over the beach. That said, I can’t remember the last time we actually paused the frenetic pace of life to stand beside the water’s edge transfixed by the rising moon. That should be a point of shame really.

“If you want the moon, do not hide from the night.

If you want a rose do not run away from the thorns.

If you want to love do not hide from yourself.”
~ Rumi

Cloudy moon

Indeed, even last night, it’s glamorous appearance merely signaled a dash to fetch the camera and carpe seize the moment, rather than truly soaking it in and enjoying it for what it was an expression of nature, and perhaps even of God.

Somehow, we need to make more time to press the pause button and get outside to enjoy the world right at our feet. We don’t even need to travel to experience the world through fresh eyes. That is a point for me atm as a number of close friends are traveling through Europe and I would love to be there but can’t on so many levels. However, it helps that my Australian  backyard is overseas for most of you and somewhere exotic. It’s all a matter of perspective.

Best wishes,

Rowena

PS Just had to include this moon quote about human nature:

“Everyone is a moon, and has a dark side which he never

shows to anybody.”

― Mark Twain

Red Door, Patonga…Thursday Doors.

Welcome to Thursday Doors.

You know you’re sadly door-obsessed when you go to a place of stunning natural beauty, and your heart skips a beat when you come across a red door. I’m sure many of you relate to my experience and perhaps Thursday Doors has become the equivalent of AA  for the door-obsessed. A safe place for us to share our passion for doors and all the stories they tell. Moreover, doors also have a metaphorical appeal…an open door, closed door and what these mean to the journey.

“When one door closes, another opens; but we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door that we do not see the one which has opened for us.”     

Alexander Graham Bell

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Patonga

This week our love of doors takes us to Patonga, on the NSW Central Coast 91 kilometres North of Sydney and a short drive from our port of call last week,  Pearl Beach. By the way, Patonga is Aboriginal for “oyster”.

Patonga has a delightful sleepy feel to it. As you drive down the hill into the village, the beach is on your left and a jetty heads out into the bay. You’ll spot a few fishing boats and there was a father and son fishing from the end of the wharf without catching anything. You see scenes like this around the world, and only the backdrop changes.

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This red flower, which I took to be an Australian native, turned out to be a weed hailing from Madagascar…Mother of Millions. I wonder if it’s seen the movie. 

“Red is uplifting.”- Jerry Lewis

After going for a bit of a walk along the waterfront, we drove around town and that’s how I came across this red door in a side street just back from the Hawkesbury River. I have to admit that there was an instant tick inside my head…”That’s Thursday Doors done and dusted.”

Before I head off, I’ll leave you with this quote from Oscar Wilde. Although it pertains to red roses,I’m sure the sentiments could be extended to red doors.

“A red rose is not selfish because it wants to be a red rose. It would be horribly selfish if it wanted all the other flowers in the garden to be both red and roses.”

Oscar Wilde

This has been another contribution to Thursday Doors hosted by Norm 2.0 Please pop over and join us.

Best wishes,

Rowena