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With this post I thee wed. I mean with this post I am entering a competition, somehow I have managed to get myself onto the kidspot social top 50 bloggers list. If I manage to claw my way to the top of the list I can win a trip to New York later on this year and I wouldn’t mind having a bit of a look at New York.

To kick off the blogger challenges, we would like you to write a post before 13 April titled:  ‘Kidspot Ford Territory Top 50: Feel the difference’ about your journey into blogging and what sets you apart from other bloggers. We invite you to put a button on this post to enable your audience to vote for you in the Top 50.

My journey into blogging began on a dark and stormy night when we were rudely woken up by furious banging on the back door. “The Spouse”  opened the door wearing only his jocks and a grim expression and you could tell that he was not impressed at all, by the wizened old man who was thumping on the door with his staff. “You have to let me in'” muttered the old man, “My need is dire and our time is short…”

In 2006 I had a sticker on the inside of my fridge door that read: I drink to make other people more interesting. When visitors would see that sticker they would smile at the joke they thought they were sharing with me but in fact that sticker was telling my truth.

I had been an outsider in my community for a long time, my children were picked on at school because they lived in a shed, their mother was a feral, a fucking greenie, a tree hugging hippy, their father was a dole bludger, we ate roadkill, had nits, had wild drug parties, you name it, they said we did it. I think my worst crimes amongst the local women was the fact that I collected cobwebs and neither dusted nor gossiped.

In 2007 my daughter talked me into starting a blog and Frog Ponds Rock was born. I tapped out a few words and received some comments. I took some photos with a hand-me-down point and shoot my mother had given me and I received just enough compliments to keep me going. My world expanded, my confidence with the camera grew and my loneliness receded. I faffed about on the internet, joining in with memes and making friends.

I didn’t realise how lonely I had been until I wasn’t lonely anymore. The isolation that had seemed such a huge barrier vanished, as I was connecting with like minded women and men all over the world. I could talk about politics and my concern for the state of the environment, without getting into an argument. I knew that if I jumped onto a plane to Europe or the United States, I had friends there and that knowledge was very comforting. My world had shrunk.

Whilst I was making friends all over the world my husband’s disapproval grew. The Spouse really, really, disliked me being on the computer and he worried that you, my dear internets were going to steal my identity, lift my credit card from the back pocket of my laptop or shock horror, you were going to entice me into kinky cyber-sex. I had to steal time to blog, or keep my ears peeled for his footsteps so that I could jump up from the computer and pretend I was doing something productive, like housework.

At the same time as my husband was worrying about identity theft, I was studying ceramics and struggling with my own identity. During a group discussion in one of my classes I decided that I really was an artist, not a student and so I started to call myself a ceramic artist on my blog.

You know if you start to tell people that you are an artist, they actually believe you.

This is where my blog differs from a lot of the blogs in this list. I am not a stay at home mum writing to save my sanity and I am also not a work at home mum trying to earn a living from blogging.

I am an Artist and this blog in 2012 is an extension of my visual diary. As a visual artist I do my thinking in public. I am comfortable with that. A nest of ceramic eggs in a public space is the realisation of a series of thoughts, as well as an invitation to you, the public, to join in the discourse; to participate in the public thought processes with me.

A conversation that starts here on the blog as nothing more than a wisp of an idea, often coalesces into something much more tangible than an abstract concept. The simple processes of examining my ideas, combined with feedback from you, is an invaluable tool.

I use this blog to de-clutter my mind. I take ideas out and examine them publicly and see what happens.

I also use this blog to poke at old wounds and see if they still hurt.

Early in 2010 my blog was nominated for Best Australian Blog in the bloggies and within the internet this was a big deal. When I showed my husband the nomination he was totally chuffed. I overheard him telling his mates that his missus blog is the best in Australia. The bloggies nomination removed any perception that my husband might have had that I was a total and complete nutter for writing on the internet.

He still knows that I am just your ordinary every day nutter.

Because of the 2010 bloggies nomination, I stopped having to blog in secret. I structure my time so that I write in the mornings and my blog has become an integral part of who I am. My husband is still deeply suspicious of all things computery but not as suspicious as he would have been if there really was an old man banging on the back door in the middle of a storm.

Today I am sitting here trying to write about my journey into blogging so that I can gather up enough votes to have a chance to jet off to Blogher in New York. I hope that this blog post has given you an idea about part of my journey and I also know that some of you reading this have been here since the beginning.

Thank you for reading and thank you for giving so much of yourselves to me over the years.

 

 

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The cobweb collector

If ever I was going to write a book, “The Cobweb Collector” would be the title, as my house is full of cobwebs and I guard them fiercely.

An orb spider spun a beautiful web from one side of the verandah to the other and so naturally everyone was banned from using the verandah for over a week, simply because I didn’t want to see the spiders hard work destroyed before she had at least eaten a fly or two. A combination of being in the silvereye’s flight path and high winds shredded the web anyway but I was pleased I had at least given her a chance.

If a spider builds an elaborate web and it is destroyed, I wonder if they have the energy reserves to build another?

My head feels cloudy and full of cobwebs, I spent most of Easter Saturday crying for my Mother and crying for myself. I have recently lost a friend as well and some of the tears were for her as well. I burst into rooms and wave my arms around and speak loudly and honestly. People don’t like honesty and noise and I can never be bothered trying to explain.

I read through the posts I had written last April and my feelings of loss are still as raw as they were then. Three years, it has nearly been three years and still all I want is to be able to crawl into my Mothers lap and have her stroke my forehead and tell me that everything will be okay.

Life is messy and chaotic and I still feel mired and uninspired.

But I will work through this.

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Sunday Selections #64

Good Morning everyone, before we start with this weeks Sunday Selections, I have found a photo challenge that you might be interested in and so I thought I would share it with you here. I followed a tweet from Carly Jacobs to a link by Fat mum slim and this photo challenge caught my attention.I am not sure whether to post the photos here on the blog, or to just post them onto my Frogpondsrock facebook page but either way the challenge looks like fun and it might also be a way to get my creative process back on track.

Now let’s start this weeks Sunday Selections.

The Blurb

I take a lot of photos and most of them are just sitting around in folders on my desktop not doing anything. I thought that a dedicated post once a week would be a good way to share some of these photos that otherwise wouldn’t be seen by anyone other than me.

I am also remarkably absent minded and I put photos into folders and think that I will publish them later on and then then I never do.

So I have started a photo meme that anyone can join in and play as well. The rules are so simple as to be virtually non existent.

Just add your name and URL to the Mr Linky.

Publish your photos on your blog using the “Sunday Selections” title.

Link back here to me.

The Photos

This photo is the one I took for the “Your Reflection” photo challenge.

I have no idea what this little fellow is, he was on the bathroom windowsill and looks like a cross between a cricket and a grasshopper. I let him go in the garden and took photos as he ever so slowly walked away from me.

I published this photo the other day but I wanted to share it again as I just love the feeling of ecstasy I get from this tree. As if the tree is reaching joyously for the sky.

It snowed up here last week and then the next day was a lovely balmy 24 degrees. Autumn weather is unpredictable.

The last of the summer insect porn. No more beetle sex for me to capture for quite a few months now.

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Reasons to be Cheerful

One.

Two.

Three.

You can thank me for the ear worm later.

I use this blog to sort out the words that are in my head. If I am lucky and the planets align I capture some of these words and they drip down from my fingers and fall onto the page, rather than spinning madly within the whirlpool of my brain.

Sometimes the words flow, sometimes they do not.

The simple act of writing makes me feel better.

The fact that you are reading my words is both comforting and frightening.

Comforting because I know that you are a friend, frightening because I know that you are not.

Today in my bathroom there was a grasshopper/cricket/insect thingy walking along the window. I captured it and let it go in the garden it was the prettiest green and it took each step very slowly, always tasting the air with its feelers before it moved forward.

As long as I can remember to take pleasure in the small things in my life I know that I will always be okay.

So here are some more of my reasons to be cheerful. I love how the branches in this tree seem to be dancing.

This week I am also linking up with Dorothy’s, “Things I Know,” to remind myself of the things that I already know.

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Mired

That is how I feel. I feel like I am stuck and unable to gain any momentum.

I haven’t made any new work in over two weeks.

There is an exhibition coming up that I am quite looking forward to but as for making the work for it, I have been reading instead.

I haven’t made any bread and butter stuff for the Off Centre either and the studio is just too far away. My book is closer.

The industrial strength laxative I took last week as preparation for the colonoscopy made me ill for days. Great waves of nausea that saw me take a bucket to bed, also gave me a small insight into how my daughter feels on a daily basis. I take a small measure of comfort from the fact that my GP told me that if it was cancer I would surely be dead by now.

So there is that at least.

The blogosphere is giving me the shits, with a cowardly anonymous commenter on my daughters blog turning out to be someone we know. A sycophant of the first order, too weak to own her own words. An asshat who thinks that whispers are the way and taints her friends so that I cant be bothered with any of them, or their high school antics.

I am mired and I am also angry.

It wasn’t until I started to cry in a meeting yesterday, that I realised what was wrong with me.

It is grief.

Grief.

That raging weight of missing, of a hole that is too huge to be filled, the pain of the overwhelming emptiness and the endless if onlys.

I am trying to board up my grief with planks of anger and as the fury rises the creativity recedes.

And I am left with nothing but ashes.

My mothers ashes in a box on my shelf.

I take them down occasionally and shake them and whisper hello.

April was Mum’s month.

Easter and her birthday on the 11th all tied up with Mum’s zest for life, with her love of food and family.

April just exposes the giant hole in our lives where mum used to be and the anger bubbles away quietly under the surface.

April is coming and I am trying not to cry.

But sometimes internet, life is hard.

It is really really hard.

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Sunday Selections #63 The Greatest Shave Edition

Hi everyone, last night I went along to my very first roller derby match and along with some other brave souls I had all my hair chopped off to raise money for the Leukaemia Foundation.

So instead of hunting through my zillions of folders of forgotten photos I will share with you photos of The Worlds Greatest Shave.

My daughter Veronica took all these photos for me and I have not edited them at all.

For any newcomers here that would like to join in with my Sunday Selections meme you are more than welcome and here are the rules .

The Blurb

I take a lot of photos and most of them are just sitting around in folders on my desktop not doing anything. I thought that a dedicated post once a week would be a good way to share some of these photos that otherwise wouldn’t be seen by anyone other than me.

I am also remarkably absent minded and I put photos into folders and think that I will publish them later on and then then I never do.

So I have started a photo meme that anyone can join in and play as well. The rules are so simple as to be virtually non existent.

Just add your name and URL to the Mr Linky.

Publish your photos on your blog using the “Sunday Selections” title.

Link back here to me.

The Photos

I dyed my hair one last time especially for the shave.

The Minister for Tourism Scott Bacon starts to chop off my hair and I am hamming it up for the crowd.

I am now holding my hair in my hands. I will use my hair for paintbrushes.

The serious clipping begins.

The public part of the shave has finished.and here I am with short hair, Tadaa!

After the public shaving had finished, the lovely Bridget from the Leukaemia foundation took one of the other shavees, Garland and myself off to the staff room and she finished shaving our hair. So my hair is even shorter now than this last photo but you get the general idea.

There is still plenty of time to donate to this very worthy cause if you feel so inclined. All you have to do is Click this link to my page on the Leukaemia Foundation’s website.

oh ps. Thanks for all the hats I didn’t realise just how cold my head would be.

 

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Worlds Greatest Shave 2012

Today is the day my lovelies.

I am not nervous today at all which is a blessed relief. On Tuesday I was extremely nervous and  every time I thought about The Shave my chest would tighten and I would have to concentrate on my breathing until the moment of minor panic had passed.

With the ever useless gift of hindsight I can now see that it was the scheduled trip to hospital on Wednesday that was making me the most nervous, not the impending shave. Though I am having a little hyperventilate now *gulp*

Tonight at approximately 7.30 (ish) I will be shaving all my hair off.

I wont be shaving my hair off in a quiet corner of a locked bathroom somewhere, oh no that would be far too easy.

I will be shaving my hair off in the middle of a roller derby match.

How did I get here? How did I go from thinking, “Jeez I am sick to death of my fucking hair”, to “Let’s shave it all off in an arena  chocka blok full of strangers?”

I blame you.

I lay the blame squarely at your feet, internet.

It is all your fault.

You make me feel like I am ten feet tall and bullet proof.

You make me believe that I can do anything, that my harebrained schemes aren’t that harebrained after all.

Every single one of you that reads this blog, or leaves a comment, or sends me an encouraging email.

This is all your fault.

And I thank you from the very bottom of my heart.

Together we have raised over THREE THOUSAND DOLLARS and my total meter thermometer thingy, on my fundraising page is flashing and blinking and saying GOAL ACHIEVED with a shininess that hurts my eyes.

So any Hobartians out there reading this blog, you should come along to the DEC tonight, it promises to be a fun night and all proceeds go to the Leukaemia foundation. The doors open at 5pm (cash sales only though) and the first bout starts at 6.10 pm.

Scott Bacon MP will be wielding the clippers and I will lose my locks at about 7.40 pm.

Scott Bacon is the Minister for Tourism,Hospitality and Veterans Affairs and I will be sitting with him before the shave. It amuses me no end that I will have my very own hostage, I mean politician in the box with me tonight. So any questions you want asking of the local member for Denison you have about 5 hours notice to email them to me and I will engage the minister in polite conversation.

Veronica is coming along with me as my personal photographer and I hope to have some photos up on the blog tomorrow.

Thank you all so very, very much and hopefully I will see some of you at the DEC tonight.

 

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I am not brave, I just won’t look.

In four days time someone from the Leukaemia foundation is chopping off all my hair.

I will no longer be able to dramatically fling my plait over my shoulder for emphasis when I am being flippant.

Numerous people have told me How brave I am being, I don’t consider myself brave at all.

It is a good cause and I am losing my hair by choice, not necessity.

My hair will grow back, and in the meantime, if I am too horrified by how my lack of hair makes me look, well I just won’t look. I will look instead at the lovely long list of generous sponsors.

I will avoid mirrors and when I do see myself, I will  refuse to think  about my appearance. Scarlett O ‘ Hara was right on the money when she said, “I will think about that tomorrow.” As I find that philosophy works wonderfully well, especially when combined with rigorous avoidance of  reflective surfaces.

So today, I am determinedly not thinking about the Worlds Greatest Shave, instead I am thinking about food.

I didn’t realise how much food I had scattered about  my house. A banana in the fruit bowl, muesli on the shelf, dark chocolate in the cupboard.

Everywhere I look there is some sort of foodstuff.

And I cant eat any of it.

Today I am fasting and purging.

Tonight I will be horrendously grumpy.

Tomorrow I am scheduled for a colonoscopy.

I have been on the waiting list for this procedure since October 2009. My GP joked that if my symptoms were indicative of bowel cancer I would be dead by now.

So there is that, at least.

This week is shaping up to be a big week, all I need for the trifecta is a pedicure and I will have had something done to the top, middle and bottom of my body.

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Sunday Selections #62

This is the last Sunday Selections I will be doing with long hair. Thank you to those of you who have written blog posts for me and an even bigger thanks to those of you who have donated. On a silly note, I am more nervous about publishing photos of myself with short hair than I am of doing the actual shave. Vain, I am vain.

There is still time for you to write a post for me, if you would like to encourage your readers to donate to the Leukaemia Foundation.

Together we have raised $2726.11 so far and I am thrilled to bits with your efforts on mine and the Leukaemia Foundations behalf.

So thank you all from the very bottom of my heart.

The Blurb

I take a lot of photos and most of them are just sitting around in folders on my desktop not doing anything. I thought that a dedicated post once a week would be a good way to share some of these photos that otherwise wouldn’t be seen by anyone other than me.

I am also remarkably absent minded and I put photos into folders and think that I will publish them later on and then then I never do.

So I have started a photo meme that anyone can join in and play as well. The rules are so simple as to be virtually non existent.

Just add your name and URL to the Mr Linky.

Publish your photos on your blog using the “Sunday Selections” title.

Link back here to me.

The Photos

This is my grand daughter Amy, we were at the Museum in Hobart. This was taken in 2011.

This cow wandered onto my property late in 2010. I don’t like cows very much and this cow can feel my dislike. She is glaring back at me as she quietly hums the tune, “Cows with Guns”

These next two photos have been fiddled with in photoshop. I like them.

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I am lost in a novel.

I have dived headlong into the Game of Thrones series of books. I have nearly completed book two and I am at the stage where I am thinking about the characters as I go about my daily tasks. I even took the book up with me to the studio the other day and during the course of the day found a good rythm, whereby I made a couple of pots, read a few pages, gazed at the sky for a bit and then made a couple more pots. It was a good afternoon.

I am not quite at the stage where I am dreaming about the characters but I am sure that will happen as I immerse myself in the third book.

Life would be so empty without glorious, fat novels that transport me into another world and another time.

Thank you George R. R. Martin you are now firmly in my favourites list, right next to Robin Hobb and Pamela Freeman.

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