Tag Archives: journey

Party Ice – Thursday Doors.

Welcome to Another Thursday Doors!

This week, I’m applying the KISS Principle to my contribution…Keep It Simple, Stupid.

As you may be aware, I’m from Sydney, Australia and so we’re in the throws of a sweltering, sunny Summer here right now. We have just returned from a week away staying at Nureybar, located in lush green countryside about 15 minutes drive out of Byron Bay on the NSW North Coast. Indeed, I’ve sat up at night reading or writing intoxicated by a chorus of frogs, grasshoppers and even a Gecho, who is rumoured to be an Indonesian import.

This holiday has proven just how photographing doors can get under your skin and even become part of your raison d’etre. A late start to the day, meant many of the shops had shut by the time I’d finished my coffee and so I could appreciate and photograph the closed doors without needing to explain myself, which is a good thing I feel. I feel a bit awkward trying to explain doorscursions to the uninitiated, especially when most people coming to Byron Bay are smitten by the beach instead.

Anyway, as I said, I’m going to keep this post really simple and catch up on the full range of doors from my trip next week. In the meantime, given the Summer heat here, this freezer door had instant appeal. Indeed, I could’ve jumped in there.

Lastly, before I head off, I thought I’d ask you whether you’ve ever had an accidents or close calls while doing photography? Your tales of misadventure don’t need to be doorspecific. You see, while I was away, I was exploring my in-law’s garden and ventured off the path to photograph a beautiful bromeliad. However, as I stepped off the path, my foot was gripped by sudden pain as a stick jabbed me in the arch of my foot. We’d just been out for coffee and I was wearing sandals and the stick got me from the side. At first, I thought I’d cut an artery but nothing quite that dramatic but it did necessitate a trip to Ballina Hospital and four stitches, a tetanus shot and four hours later, we were on the way home. While the wound itself isn’t much, I’m hobbling around and it still hurts. I also need to work out how I’m going to wash my hair and shower for the next ten days. This is what happens when you believe in jumping in boots and all and don’t think about the safety considerations beforehand. Anyway, I’ve learned this lesson and will be wearing sensible shoes in future…or not!

How has your week been? I hope it’s been a good one.

This has been another contribution to Thursday Doors hosted by Norm 2.0. Why don’t you come and join us and share a few of your favourite doors. It’s a lot of fun and helps you see parts of the world you’ll never get to visit.

Best wishes,

Rowena

 

 

Going Barefoot…Friday Fictioneers.

Eloise had chosen every man she’d ever loved by his shoes. After all, she was very discerning herself, and had decided long ago that the shoes maketh of breaketh the man

Yet, somehow Hamish had squeezed under her discerning radar. The lifeguard at the local beach, he was barefoot when she met him, and barefoot he remained. He didn’t even own a pair of shoes.

Eloise couldn’t resist. Had to buy him a pair of matching boots. However, Hamish wasn’t about to be owned by any woman, and gave them back. He walked his own path.

…..

100 words exactly

This has been another contribution to Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wishoff-Fields, where we write up to 100 words to a provided photo prompt. Photo Copyright – Adam Ickes

I thought I might just remind you of my Australian context here and that’m actually sweltering away in the Summer heat at the moment. We’re a short walk to the beach and have quite a casual dress sense around here, especially during Summer. That said, I’ve known a few friends who have dated men who are always barefoot and some of those friends have been what you could describe as “posh” themselves. Sometimes, you’ve got to wonder whether cupid’s arrow missed its mark!

To get into the Christmas spirit of things, I’ve posted a photo of Elf with the lifeguard, a friend of mine who I’m pretty sure has to wear shoes on the job.

Best wishes,

Rowena

 

Road Block…Friday Fictioneers.

A huge, amorphous rock with haunting facial features and a crutch, had parked itself right across my path and wouldn’t budge. Indeed, on second thoughts, it wasn’t a rock at all, but a humungus, black rain cloud metamorphosed into a rock just to spite me.

Screw positive thinking! It was no coincidence, that I was The Chosen One. Otherwise, why would a huge, black rock from outer space, suddenly land on MY PATH? It must’ve had geo-tracking honed to my very coordinates. Mum, was right. We’d been born under an unlucky star.

That’s when I saw her shoes sticking out.

…..

This has been another contribution for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff Fields.  PHOTO PROMPT© CEAyr.

Given my health problems, I have naturally pondered why bad things happen. Well, more than the bad stuff. More the really traumatic stuff, which also challenges our notions of fairness such as the death of a child. Sometimes, I know I’ve certainly felt targeted or singled out and that was hard to take.

These were some of the thoughts which went into my take on this week’s prompt.

What are your thoughts about why we experience adversity? I love to hear from you.

Hope you’re having a great week.

Best wishes,

Rowena

Amnesia…Paris ‘92

I’m digging around

at the back of my head,

but all neuro pathways

are hopelessly dead.

 

I can’t resurrect them.

Their heartbeats have stopped.

Help can’t get through.

All roads have been blocked.

 

I fumble around for a sign,

For some clues.

Return to the scene,

where I hope to find you.

writing in Paris

Writing on the Window Sill at the Hotel Henri IV July, 1992.

 

But almost a lifetime’s

flowed along down the Seine,

although ancient Pont Neuf

still looks much the same.

 

I return to the cafe

where you broke my heart.

Still bearing the scars,

you said weren’t your fault.

 

The City of Love,

Was my city of pain

where romance turned to heartbreak,

and sun turned to rain.

 

And now I am back there,

with my husband and kids

not saying a word

about that Summer we kissed.

 

Rowena Curtin

30th November, 2016.

 

A fictional poem, although the heartache was real.

I am currently writing about the two months I spent in Paris as a backpacker in 1992. That’s over 20 years ago now and the memories are very strained despite having my own diaries, photos and letters to refer to as well as the net.  I was making very good progress on this project a year ago. That was until the office roof was destroyed in a hailstorm and then the hard drive developed “complications” and not everything could be salvaged. So, I am starting over trying to re build the patchwork quilt almost from scratch and trying to cover the gaps. It’s incredibly difficult but I am thankfully making progress.

xx Rowena

The featured image was a selfie taken in the Luxenbourg Gardens, Paris, July 1992.

 

The Path…A Magnetic Poem.

Today, I was struck on the head by the magnetic muse in what could only be described as a “coup de foudre”.

In case you “ne comprendez pas”, that means falling in love at first sight. I thought falling in love, or becoming addicted, sounded much more dramatic in French.

Like a proverbial matchmaker,  Merril D Smith  introduced me writing magnetic poetry online at http://play.magneticpoetry.com/ It’s so much fun. I chose the nature theme and I was thrilled with the results. I felt my poetry gained very rich symbolism and I put images together which I never would’ve thought of combining before, yet made such sense and expanded my vision exponentially.

Dare I ask you what you think?

Well, here goes:

The Path

Shine moon spirit.

Listen.

Breathe.

My soul is withered.

I wander down a lonely path.

Every daffodil Spring,

the bright, blue bird walks

through the fresh earth.

Garden tendrils rustled.

Then some seed said:

“Use intuition.

There’s a sanctuary.”

Secret winds murmur:

“Climb the ancient mountain.

Know her peace.

Rest.

Leave moss be.

Make song.”

Behold,

I thrive.

Rowena Newton

Magnetic Poetry 23rd November, 2016.

Have you been struck by the magnetic muse? I’d love to hear how you went.

xx Rowena

An Ant’s Road Through the Roses.

the ants’ road
from peaks of clouds
to here.

Issa

When I saw this luscious red rose, I immediately metamorphosed into an ant crawling through it’s mountainous red petals until it finally reached all those golden pollen at the centre of the universe and slept.

Come to think of it, do ants actually sleep? Have you ever seen an ant taking a nap?

Just a thought…

xx Rowena

The Fork in the Tree.

What do you see when you look at this tree?

Initially, I saw the fork in the road but when I look at it now I see a very flexible, headless dancer whose toe is pointing up into the clouds. Mind you, when I came up with that image, I’d chopped the top off the photo on my laptop screen. or, maybe, the dancer hasn’t shaved her legs?

Unfortunately, I also noticed this tree isn’t looking very healthy.While it is deciduous, it’s neighbours are all sprouting Spring leaves and there isn’t so much as a bud on this one. I’m hoping my suspicions are wrong but is this tree deceased?

“C’mon! Grow, baby. Grow!…Just a leaf? A sign? A glimmer of hope?”

A Jumbled Path.JPG

My Pathway is Lost in a  Jumble of Twigs. Where am I going?

Meanwhile, looking further up the tree, I spotted “chaos central” where there is no clear-cut fork in the road… the A & B options. Rather, these twigs graphically portrayed:

“My life is such a Mess!” or “I’m soooo confused”.

There are no patterns and no pathway through. No exit from the maze but at least there is no minotaur but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a spider’s next in there…a tribe of Huntsmen.

When you have complicated decisions to make, what do you do? How do you choose which way to go? Toss a coin? Phone a friend? Write about it? Make a list of pros and cons?

I use a range of these strategies but what I’ve finally come to appreciate the hard way, is that action outranks procrastination. That even if you make the wrong decision, that’s better than doing nothing at all. Procrastination is not my friend and yet…

Hey, I just went chasing up a quote to illuminate this post and this was the first quote I found and it was so about this tree. It must be a sign:

“Never cut a tree down in the wintertime. Never make a negative decision in the low time. Never make your most important decisions when you are in your worst moods. Wait. Be patient. The storm will pass. The spring will come.”

Robert H. Schuller

Perhaps, this tree should be renamed: “The Philosopher’s Tree”. Well, it’s certainly got me thinking and fired up a few brain cells. Dare I say, cleared out some “dead wood”?

Surely, there’s life in the old tree yet!

xx Rowena