climate

.

.

It’s hot

hot to trot

hot to the touch

feeling the heat

red hot

very warm

hot chip

It’s a smoke hazard

cracked

on fire

ablaze

It’s like, combustible there

sizzling

hot fuzz

fuzz wuzz

r e a l  h o t

fry an egg on it

close

humid

bloody warm

hot and heavy

hottest on record

hot tomali

hot tomatoes

too hot to grow

going slow

sit up and take notes

kinda arrangement

.

.

 

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the dreams of Walrus

Walrus

.

For Lis

.

Walrus once swam upstream

towards the apex, the pinnacle

of the high mountain

he spied from the cold stream

where muscular wild fish

spoke of bears

.

He swam the oceans of the Antarctic

where Leviathan creatures smiled

and waved

and strange huge birds

circled overhead

and recited poetry

.

He spoke to pelicans

who waited patiently in lagoons

in front of fish and chip shops

and he circled and sang with

elderly swimmers

doing laps in plastic hats

in winter

.

Walrus flew wildly and fearlessly once

over the lip of Killarney Glen waterfall

he saw the trees breathing

and he heard the rocks clapping

as he pirouetted skyward

towards the clouds floating

in the shape of a dreaming rabbit

.

fearless

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holiday week

.

for Deb

.

.

my best friend

had a horse called Cindy

it lived in the backyard at Picnic Point

her Dad and Uncle ran a butcher shop

.

she told me, as a small child

she sat on the red carpet in the lounge room

and ate money

carefully licking one and two cent pieces

swallowing them one by one

her Mum would wait near the potty

for the coins to show up

.

this week, she missed the art gallery opening hours

found an op shop instead

got to the  dump after closing time

forgot to get petrol

lost her wallet

had cheese cake at the Austral cafe

.

my best friend

the wimple free, artist, vegetarian

coin swallower

will never entirely trust anyone

who can’t say the word fuck

with passion, gusto and conviction

.

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May light

may light (photo by Monisha May)

.

The familiar constriction

of bang and violence

still surprises me

the downbeat of an airport drop off

In the emptiness that follows

I see through a corner of my eye

down the tunnel of warm milk

toast buttered to the edges

a fat, hot tear

I smell your absolute absence

.

Your Cousin’s borrowed memory

deserted, ruined Croft

rocky bay and black seals

the swirling, freezing North sea

Nova Scotia’s cold marble headstone

I feel the Gulf Stream rising in me

blood and longing

I hold this serpentine stone flat in my hand

and see you flicker

in my Son’s eyes

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silver dollar tree

Lamington World Heritage

For Mackie

.

Shine the lights on

the silver dollar tree

on that night

on that bend

in my car

the silver dollar tree

.

Standing out like a beacon

on my way home

a transition point

from my left to my right brain

way of seeing

after a PM shift

.

In my Nursie shoes

swish swish

slippy slap

in the halls

of a Nursing home

feeling contained

.

Silver Dollar Tree

I’m looking for you

every night on my way home now

looking for you shining

like a beacon

like a shining light

.

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the future?

the future?

for Dimity

.

.

I’m making friends

with the weeds

I spy you hiding, Billy goat weed

in your tomato suit

.

Dead heads snapped at the neck

and piled in a heap

lantana heading upwards

over the top of the shed

.

Green chickweed

colonizing the rose garden

with the wandering dew

and the Singapore daisy

.

I hear dandelions are tasty

roasted root as coffee

leaves tender

flowers in salads

.

If I were a weed

I would choose to be

a cobblers peg

friendly, transportable, adaptable

.

Farmers friends

sticky beaks

effective, efficient, annoying

everywhere

.

love the weeds

for they may be our future

as the golf courses dry up

and the wells run dry

.

Sticky beak salads

may be the next gourmet item

and the best harvests may be coming from

in between the rows

.

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the visitor

The oxygen left the room

.

as I breathed salt water

floating seamlessly

between two universes

feeling the weight and magnitude

.

of the white puff

of a dandelion seed

.

I watched, pinned, floating

as it swirled in through the front door

lingering, laughing, carousing

it stayed

forever and no time at all

.

it hung there, hesitating

before it flew

.

like a Black Cockatoo call

out the back door

and into the universe once more

leaving me with

gravity returning to my limbs

heavy as lead

reed avocado

reed avocado

reed avocado

pumpkins

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practical tools

As with any project, to ensure the best chance of success, it is necessary to acquire the required tools for the job. As I  graduate from recreational cyclist, to one who is becoming a training lunatic, a few upgrades need to happen

Firstly, I invested in a really good pair of nix.

super nix

These particular ones have a gel insert that stops the pain and the feeling you are rubbing off all the fun parts of your body. They are breathable, washable, comfy and for a lycra thing, don’t look too bad.

The next thing I did was get some socks. For a long time I poo pooed cycling socks, but on further investigation I realised they had little compression areas sewn into them to increase circulation and help stop foot cramps, ha, not so silly.

magic green fluid

This little green bottle, from Eagle brand, is an amazing linament, that fits in the bike satchel under my seat with the spare inner tube, and is fabulous for sore, stiff areas. Don’t rub your eyes after applying it, like I did…

I also found myself a coach. Sara Carrigan is an Olympic Gold medalist, that is gracious enough to pass on her knowledge to other cyclists. I had a one on one session at the Nerang velodrome, where Sara taught me how to corner properly using my center of gravity, how to avoid hitting industrial bins (very useful), turning and not falling into potholes (also useful). The trick is to always look where you are going, not where you are wanting to avoid, a pretty good thing to do in life in general I think.

Also riding posture, using the Core and engaging abdominal muscles to avoid bad technique when fatigued. Riding around the velodrome gaining confidence, riding whilst balancing with one foot, riding whilst being physically pushed from the side in a group type situation and many other useful tips. Any velodrome that has a section called ‘risk it for a biscuit’ has my vote any day for a great time. Here is a link to her school. Take a moment to watch the video, it’s amazing.

https://www.saracarrigan.com/

Sara Carrigan

The other thing that I learned is the importance of nutrition. Apparently on a long ride it is good to eat every hour, and if you get hungry, your body is already playing catch up. I like bananas, so I always take one when I ride, but there are some yummy energy bars out there. I don’t have time to bake (thanks Dave Groom for your recipe, but I am not that organised!) The two bars I have taken to, are the Cadel Evans bars, they have a yummy apple crumble one, which didn’t fall apart as I ripped it open and scoffed it on the uphill section of Beechmont hill this morning, and the other is the Cliff bars, I personally like the peanut butter one, but they have all sorts, that one is a bit crumbly though and I did lose some while I was riding, and grieved the half that lay on the hot bitumen for the rest of the ride.

yummy

Artistically, I can’t help but notice the Heart Beats, the speed charts and the elevation ratios. I am wanting to join them all together and do an etching somehow. I have just done a really quick join up of my strava charts from this morning. Perhaps something circular.

very rough roughness

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repetition

I was stung by a bee on my morning ride today, an interesting thing happened… (unfortunately the bee passed away) it left its stinger in my arm and as I brushed it out I could feel the pain starting. There was nothing for me to do as I has left my lavender oil on the kitchen bench, and I was in the middle of nowhere, so I kept riding. I waited for the anaphylaxis, due to my increased heart rate, but none started, and the pain went away pretty much immediately. Very curious. I am noticing many changes in my physiology now I am training consistently. I have a clearer mind, better focus, more energy and patience, particularly at work.

beechmont lookout 6.00am

I am training for a particularly challenging event. I’m taking it on as an arts project. Art/sport/science: can it be all joined and made useful in its mesh? We shall see. My PhD project was about art/gardening and I believe the two mediums are symbiotic in nature, one feeding the other and as time goes on there is no doubt in my mind that the Art world has embraced the concept of food and gardening and food foraging as a valid medium, due to more committed artists than myself including Artist as Family, Janet Laurence, Fiona Hall and many others. We are all as humans intimately connected to all things, scientifically and mathematically indisputable.

(images and words by Gyorgy Doczi. ‘The power of Limits’ Shambhala Publications 1981)

The event I have chosen is so far on the edge of my capabilities it’s nearly not doable. I am seeking the journey of what processes I go through as I train, what the repetition of pedaling, breathing techniques and riding to 432HZ music brings forth in my consciousness, and what artworks I produce from the process, already I am hearing EMILY XYZ  poetry in my memory as I ride. As an artist I would like to see what happens to me as I submit and push myself through training boundaries to a place of meditation as I ride up a 18% incline to the Binna Burra Teahouse hill and how I change as the event draws closer. I am reminded of Mike Parr’s many many self portraits (repetition) and sitting through the pain of sewing his lips together (endurance).

the view at 6.00am beechy rd

 

I am using this as a visual diary, and any artworks that I produce I will put up here on the blog, perhaps someone may find it interesting. At the very least, it will be an interesting project for me to focus on. My Sons keep telling me I need to leave my comfort zones to come up with new art works, Im not quite sure this is what they meant, considering the extremes they go to to produce their art, but it’s a start.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dKUUztrrPvE    (Mack)

http://www.seashepherdglobal.org/icefish/crew/sam-simon-crew/clancy-walker.html (Clancy)

here is the link to The Peaks Ride in August.

https://www.bicyclenetwork.com.au/peaks-challenge-gold-coast/

I am so lucky to have the support of my family and amazing friends with me on this crazy journey including Dave Groom and his wife Lara. Dave is my cycling buddy, who happens to be a landscape painter: http://www.davegroom.com/  (Yes we do talk about Art on our rides sometimes!) as well as my Sister who is one of my yoga teachers helping me maintain some softness physically and in camel pose, opening my chest and heart whilst facing challenges and not ‘armouring up’.  http://www.new.surfeasy.com.au/lessons/yoga-and-surfing/

My friends who are part of the support crew (you all know who you are) thanks again.

dave and bikes at the border gates

 

Mr Pink and Curves of a Naked Lady

 

1/3 of the tri team Beechmont Babes

 

support crew

I finish this post now with the words of my undisputed favourite philosopher (though I know he would cringe at that title) Masanobo Fukuoka from his book ‘Sowing Seeds in the Desert’ (2012) who constnatly reminds me that life starts in the garden and ends in the garden and seeds are the future and the past and the present

‘I look forward to the day when there is no need for sacred scriptures or sutras. The dragonfly will be the messiah’

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Exquisite

One of my favourite garden treats is a Cape Gooseberry, Psysalis peruviana. It is part of the Nightshade family.

I go hunting often for it, looking for the ghostly pods, today I found some lying around in the freshly cleared vege patch. Before scoffing them all, like a vitamin c starved lunatic, I took some pics.

It is a beautiful plant. Skeletal in its decaying casing-it holds the seeds to new life within. The beginnings and the ends. all together. very clever and it’s yummy

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

LIFE FORCE

by Geraldine Bigelow

 

“…..I move with the memory

of all I pass

the secret folds of middle earth

and run them through the field of Man

of great beast

and flirtatious bird

seeking out myself

I spray forth

taking the wind

and its chiming message

down to the pool of water

where all life has gathered.”

 

 

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