New Abode

Follow a well worn trail up the Hill to find a studio under the gum trees

http://www.secrethillmosaics.blogspot.com/

Posting there will be infrequent............for now.

STUDIO

This post is to round off the Secret Hill Blog. I am pleased to say, that my little place of solitude in the garden, has been completed........

Come in.....

take a seat...

Inspiration boards.

More shelving urgently required.

Tools

Reference

Work table

Bryn's corner

'Spotty'

'Leaf' table (before grouting)

8 am

(click on images to enlarge)

ENOUGH

Slowly, I have come to realise that Secret Hill has insidiously wound it's trackways through my daily living. Initially this was an adventure.

Now I can be, walking, gardening, shopping, reading, talking, being, looking out of the window, watching birds, hanging out the laundry, laughing, weeping, noticing details, taking photographs, thoughtful, tired, happy or melancholic and sooner or later I think, 'I must write that down in the blog.' I begin to wonder whether I live to blog!

I don't want to do that right now.

If I write anything down it will be in one of the red or black journals I have been using for the last few years.

My studio is nearly complete. I want to settle in and work on some of my Mosaic projects. There are pots, poles, terraces, bricks, tables and sculptures all sitting in the pages of a note book, waiting to become real objects.

I may come back to this Hill. I may go and find another hill. I shall continue to visit the Blogs that have become favourites, to marvel at your writing, ideas and images.

Thankyou for finding your way to Secret Hill and walking with me along it's twisting pathways. Thankyou also, for faithfully returning day after day. Your comments have been a joy.

MONDAY NIGHT

By seven o'clock, the wind has started to wrap itself around the house. Dog is jumpy as I am getting ready to go out and collect Bear from the airport. This means that all the little routines, putting on shoes, finding a jacket, locking doors etc. have me tripping over Dog as he follows me from room to room. In order to get him to settle I have to tell him I am "going to work". He goes to his bed and hunkers down, eyes closed, but ears swivelling to catch my every move.

In the car, I turn off the air-conditioning, open the windows and flick the cd player to Loreena McKennitt. Driving down the hill, her voice mingles with the sighing of the wind in the trees. The stars are bright and clear tonight and the air smells good.

At the airport, I sit and watch people, listen to conversations and smile at the little boy who, wearing pyjamas and Spiderman slippers, holds his Mother's hand, while waiting for his Father to arrive.

The Bear is weary, but pleased the job today went well (as he predicted) and that he had time for an evening meal, before getting on the plane.

Driving back up the hill, we hear frogs calling and a rabbit runs along side the car and then disappears into the bush. Indoors, Dog greets us and ambles back to his bed.

While waiting for the kettle to boil (as I get older I crave tea), I pull back curtains and open the door to the garden. A breeze slips into the room and with it the perfume of Jasmine.

'The irreplaceable embrace of home.....where love awaits me and the kettle's always on the boil.' Jan Morris ( A House Somewhere: Tales from Abroad)

PAUSE

At the centre of your being

you have the answer,

you know who you are

and you know what you want.

Lao Tzu

JOURNAL

A coldish day - the fire lit at 3.30pm. I watched as fire caught at kindling. Listened to little cracks and pops as flame reached bubbles of eucalyptus gum in the wood.

The Bear rang tonight at 7.15pm. He described the night sky in Port Hedland. Seeing '.....from horizon to horizon, a thin sliver of moon and acres of Milky Way.'

It struck me when I put down the phone that Love is this.

Telephoning your Beloved as you walk under a night sky hundreds of kilometres away from home, because you want to share an experience. Knowing, just knowing that your description will be appreciated and the need to share it understood.

Click on highlighted text for info)

INHALE (2)

This year we are surrounded by wild Freesias. They are everywhere. In gardens, along roadsides and bush tracks, popping up where you least expect them. For that reason they are considered an invasive weed here in Western Australia. When I think how much I would pay for a few stems of them in the UK, I cannot help but revel in the perfume that envelops me when I open the front door or walk with the hound in the early morning.

'Nothing is so beautiful as Spring -

When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush;

Thrush's eggs look little low heavens, and thrush

Through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring

The ear, it strikes like lightnings to hear him sing;

The glassy peartree leaves and blooms, they brush

The descending blue; that blue is all in a rush

With richness; the racing lambs too have fair their fling.

What is all this juice and all this joy?

A strain of the earth's sweet being in the beginning

In Eden garden. - Have, get, before it cloy.......'

Gerard Manley Hopkins

(click on highlighted text for info about Freesias and two links for info about Gerard Manley Hopkins - Including audio of one of his poems, beautifully read by Richard Austin)