It’s been over a month since my last post…
We packed the back of my car for a family trip to Canberra.
(One day ahead of schedule! All neat and beautiful!)
When in one beautifully packed, slow motion, staccato, glass crackling,
suspended moment I backed into a gum tree.
One tail light, seven dints in a silver commodore and a text that read “the pile of glass under your gum tree, near your shed, is my back windscreen”
After that we drove to Canberra
Ever since then
Ever since we got back from staying in a cottage in a paddock with friends and roos, two large eagles and a giant swing in a giant tree.
Since we got back from eating, drinking, arguing, laughing, confiding, looking at art, and eating cheese.
Ever since we navigated the statuesque strangeness that is Canberra
All cities are strange when your a visitor. But there is something especially strange about the way that the Canberran roads seem unable to be direct and straightforward or stick to the point seems very fitting for the political home of our politicians.
We drove home.
And then I broke my toe
and delivered my son to a party a week early and collected bruises on hips, elbows, shins and forehead as I ping ponged about the world….
Ever since the litany of little mistakes piling up like the washing on my couch should’ve warned me that I was tired.
That I needed rest, despite my mood being buoyant,
Because there was no warning when it was buoyancy sunk.
It happened suddenly
And all the things I wanted to write about:
About learning to paint, about modern day hieroglyphics, about the portraits of the queen, about war and art and official Australian military artists, About language, About sunshine, swimming and giant swings …
All that got choked.
I didn’t and couldn’t write. I painted, drew, slept, cried and yelled. And mothered and drove and opened the blog and shut the blog. And tried to read and played mindless computer games
I was lucky enough to get a mention here: The Mother’s Artist Network by the crew at the gorgeous BIG KIDS MAGAZINE
To be amongst all those powerfully creative juggling woman was fluttering but it couldn’t push me to write…. I just shrunk a bit more and smiled a bit wider
Oh and I got quoted in this great article (for the record I’m Amelia Carson and Amelia Clarkson. hang in there for the last line. You’ll hear a distant echo of me sighing fuck yeah. Madeleine also writes here Shit on my Hands is a great blog with a broader emphasis then some other “mummy bligs”. Yes I hate the term too.
So that kept me going when I didn’t write
And I distracted my self with Cracked’s After Hours thinking of my siblings and wishing animation appeared when we spoke.
And we went swimming.
And I got proud of my cousin and blocked on twitter cause of this:
So it’s not all bad