Grief

A bit of a catch up post.

by frogpondsrock on February 19, 2011

I think the radio interview went well, I was incredibly nervous but I didn’t swear or say “um” a lot so that has to count as a positive doesn’t it? The radio people are going to email Veronica an mp3 file of our talk and once I work out how to upload it I will, then you can judge for yourselves.

A retiring potter, Monika, has given me the contents of her studio. I filled the back of my station wagon up with boxes of oxides, glaze materials, throwing tools, scales and the assorted paraphenalia of a working potter.

Coming only two days after the theft of the ceramic eggs this was a very emotional gift for me to receive and when Monika gave me her gas kiln as well, I started to cry a bit. Monika gave me a hug and she told me that she could see I was passionate about my work and that she was so happy her tools were going to such a good home.

These wooden throwing tools are such a personal gift from one potter to another and I can feel the positive energy radiating from them. They fit my hands well and I am itching to get my wheel set up.

I am starting to tame the chaos that is my studio space and “The Spouse” has been flat stick these past few weeks building me benches and work tables.

My electric kiln was delivered on Thursday and I am busting to get it sorted and wired in so I can really get to work. It weighs about 500 kilos and is top heavy. The kiln needs to be lifted off these pallets and then put back down. A mate around the road has a tripod thingy used for removing car engines and The Spouse has some endless chain. So hopefully the kiln will be in its spot ready for the electrician sooner rather than later. It will still be a tricky job though and I wont be up there watching the boys do it in case I jinx them and the kiln falls over. Yes I am superstitious.

It has been so bittersweet finally getting the studio organised and strangely enough as my bank balance is rapidly approaching the zero funds mark I am feeling happier. Every time I accessed the studio money I was reminded that I was spending my mother’s life. Every cent that I have spent was the culmination of my mother’s working life, everything Mum had worked for was taken away by her premature death from a cancer that she should never have had and as I spend the ashes of my mothers life, I would give it all back in an instant to just be able to speak to my Mum again.

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Somedays it is the smallest things

by frogpondsrock on January 11, 2011

in cancer,Grief,real life

Yesterday morning was cold, so cold in fact that I decided to light the fire. The newpaper that I grabbed to start the fire was dated June 10th 2009.

I looked at the date and it took me a second or two while I stared at the date to realize that Mum was still alive on the 10th of June 2009.

I sat in front of the fire and skimmed through the newspaper, reading articles that Mum and I had shared. Old news of the world that gave me a tenuous link back to my mother.

I have some of Mums perfume here and I sprayed some scent on the back of my hand trying to capture the smell of my mother it was the wrong perfume though and instead of comforting me it gave me a headache.

Later on in the morning I was clearing a space in my super cluttered bedroom so that the electrician can change the meter box on Friday, ready for the power hook up to my studio.I found a small bag containing Mum’s wig, The wig in waiting we called it The smell of my mother was strong in this bag and after burying my face in the rough hair of the wig for a few moments I got on with the job at hand. As I was moving boxes of Mum’s things out of the way and idly wondering how long her stuff would remain in boxes, wondering whether I could get the Spouse to make a storage space in the roof of my studio. The thought of Mum’s things sitting in boxes covered in dust brought me undone again.

This morning as I am sitting here writing about my small woes the news of the Queensland floods just keeps on getting grimmer and grimmer.

8 dead 72 missing in Toowoomba

So my thoughts are with everyone in the midst of this National disaster and if anyone wants to help they can go here to find the relevant authorities.

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The Lead up to Christmas

by frogpondsrock on December 21, 2010

in arseholiness,blogging,good causes,Grief

Has had me feeling like crap. I don’t have a tree up, the decorations are still stuffed in a cupboard somewhere and I haven’t even started to look for my Santa hat.

I am a mixture of pissed off and really really sad.

I have bloggers block because everything I write sounds like a bunch of self piteous crap. Oh Woe Oh Woedy Woe Woe.

I have an “Ehlers Danlos and Denial” post brewing and that is taking a lot of energy to write.

Artistically I am having a mud month, I was told by someone I respect that I am aggressively over confident and made to feel that my work is crap.

When I was growing up my father repeatedly told me that I was stupid. That I was lazy, worthless, fat , stupid, stupid, stupid.

I would argue with him every step of the way and cop a hiding for my trouble.

From my father I learned to never stay down and to never shut up because you will still cop a flogging if you are silent and feet hurt more than fists, so you may as well make the hiding worth while.

Somedays the echo of his accusations of stupid stupid stupid are loud in my ears even though he has been dead for thirty years.

See, I told you I was full of woe this week. Gah!

Louisa at everything is edible is organising Christmas gifts for the over one hundred and fifty children that are incarcerated at Christmas Island. The fact that there are over 150 children in just one detention centre makes me feel sick and very,very fucking ashamed that I have let my government get away with this shoddy treatment of refugees. Arseholes.

In the words of Richard Flanagan

If 30 Australians drowned in Sydney Harbour it would be a national tragedy. But when 30 or more refugees drown off the Australian coast, it is a political question. Not that Australia has a refugee problem. Last year just 5,500 people sought asylum – less than 2% of the migrant intake. Yet Australia does have a dismal public life largely bereft of courage or humanity, and it has created a national myth that now poisons all sides of politics. The myth is that of the boat people. It is the idea that hordes of refugees will overrun Australia unless harsh policies of dissuasion and internment are employed.

Louisa has a paypal button on her sidebar and overnight has raised $480 towards her goal of $930 to pay for the courier fees to Christmas Island.I think that is a spectacular effort and it is the Louisas of this world that make me feel less sad.