Songs from my Grasslands

I had some lovely feedback from friends and even from people I haven't met before, regarding my poetry reading at the National Multicultural Festival. 
Many thanks to the dedicated ladies at Mother Tongue - Multilingual Poetry who are tirelessly ensuring that multilingual poetry is alive and well.

For those of you who didn't make it, here is a different version of "Bajo el Mismo Sol" (Under the same sun). I spent a good part of last year developing "Stories from my Grasslands", writing poetry and recording with ArtSound FM.
I am very passionate about synaesthesia, about combining different disciplines in order to enhance an artistic experience and when composer Harvey Welsh proposed a collaboration, it seemed like a very logical next step, to join his music and my poetry. Thus, "Songs from My Grasslands" is born.

Harvey's music speaks for itself. I felt a deep connection with the way he embodied my vision; the instruments he chose, the way the grasslands sounds are juxtaposed, everything is connecting so well.
So. We have a little announcement. Stay tuned and pen the date in your diaries 'coz soon we will be launching the "Songs from my Grasslands" CD. And because we truly believe in synaestesia, we will have a mixed media exhibition too, with some of Harvey's paintings and some of my photography. We are honoured and delighted to announce that Ginninderry Community will be our host from the 26th of April.

Permission to Despair

What a peculiar, short word is "Now"; yet with the most elusive power.
Say it - and you've already stepped into next minute.
Effaced by faceless automatons who march into the hour
Towards the cubicles located in a central pivot.

Don't front the winter with your collar raised up like a shield,
You're not alone and you are loved; so loose that state of mind.
Somehow we'll make it through this baffling battlefield
Back to the grounds we lost during the daily grind...

This is part of a larger body of work tackling estrangement as a result of feeling overwhelmed.
How does one avoid shutting down? How does one express becoming emotionless in a world seemingly more devoid of feelings, where we become faceless silhouettes, rushing towards oblivion, while being invaded by all these picture perfect selfies?
Is it in the silence beyond that smile that never took off?
Is it in the quiet desperation of the fingers clutching a little too tight to the collar we're raising up as a shield?
How do we find the way back to communicating and being part of the community we live in?

 

Merry Christmas!

2015 proved to be big. Not necessarily in a brilliant way. It was wild, frustrating and trying - I am sure I am not the only one feeling that way.

This year, I didn’t want Christmas to be overdone; nor overshadowed by the commercial, consumerism-orientated way it seems to keep going. I didn’t go wild with the presents. I didn’t even make a wish list for myself.  I didn’t listen to Christmas Carols on repeat since November. I did the shopping well in advance and I didn’t have to face the crowds these last few days.

 

Tonight I took a walk in my beloved grasslands. Facing the grasslands, in the last few hours of this Christmas Eve, I felt Peace.

On my right, the Sun said good-bye to the day. On my left, the Full Moon smiling to the one coming.

And everything went quiet during those last moments of flickering light.

I thought of the way this year spined - fast like a carousel, with ups and down. I lost some friends. I gained some really amazing ones.

I lived and laughed. I cried at times, too. I was amazed and - to a few some - I was amazing too.

I kept calm or I lost my plot. It’s just life.

But I am lucky to have the love of my family and the kindness of some very good friends. Some unexpected presents made their way under my tree, reminding me to never forget that I am loved.

There are but few minutes till midnight. Life is good. Merry Christmas to all of my friends in all 4 cardinal points.  Have a great one and however you choose to celebrate it, make sure that it is meaningful in every single way.

End of the Line

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is where all unfinished hopes have come to lay

They dream of broken dreams within one final dream

Then fade through skies of amber, rocks and clay

And lay to rest along the quiet stream. 

 

The broken trust, unfinished thoughts and love, unchained

Have finally found a final place to rest

Forgotten passions, not enough sustained

Great paths - all lost in remnants of a nest.

One day you'll find them waiting all along for you:

Long silences within the echoes of those dreams

One day you’ll find the strength to bring them through

And you'll come back from depths of deep blue streams. 

 

 

 

 

Self Portrait

I'm made of blue and mountains;
Of salty taste and summers,
Long silences and echoes,
Snow, clouds and stormy waters.

I'm made in equal parts
Of sunrises and darkness
tied up with shiny moon beams
And windy whispers through quiet blades of grass,
Of solitary trees that shelter all their birds,
Rivers gone dry and icy streams.

I'm made of hopes and tales untold 
Of amber skies and loosing without trying,
Of drops of rains and rainbows raising high above,
Horse riding in the sunsets bright as gold,
I'm made of rocky seas and winning without gaining
I'm made of love.

Through My Heart

 



 Maybe our souls were meant to dream as one
Temple on temple and heart next to heart
Silence to silence, two riders on the run,
Hand holding hand, not meant to come apart.

Two halves of same horizon, we sail across the sky:
Tempests within a silence and tides within a shoal
Colours that spell a lifetime and smiles within a cry
I wish the world could see right through your very soul

Stars in your eyes, like melted drops of rain
Meeting the golden rays of morning sun
I read through you the joys and all the pain
Of thousands words that haven't yet been spun.

We're Stream and River, drawing cores from depths
Where shapes and lines and colours play the part
Of songs unsung, undying love and strengths;
I wish the world could see you through my heart.

Yesterday I have been wrapping up a project very dear to my heart.
A project that I have spent my last 2 months working really hard on perfecting.
I don't intend to share publicly the portraits of the children that have thought me so much during this time.

But I would like to ask everyone to take a minute and consider this: how do you explain Autism and the Spectrum to someone that has never experienced it and doesn't understand it?
How do you educate the masses, changing ignorance through information? How do you make someone understand that the little kid throwing a tantrum at the mall is really not deserving that "naughty child" label so readily applied and that in reality some children have a huge sensory overload that they are just learning to deal with?
And how do you explain non-verbal autism to someone that has never been exposed to it? The longing to communicate with the others, as well as a parent's longing to hear their child talking?

Today, I chose to do it through a poem and an image. In writing this poem, I was inspired by a dear friend and the  amazing, loving connection she has with her son.

A Hat of Many Dreams

You meet someone in the crowd wearing same hat. Who wears it best, you wonder? And you might even alternate a couple of hats, depending on mood, style or season.
But what happens when a hat "wears" the persons?
This is not so much of a human portraits series but more of a hat portrait. It is an invitation to dream: what is inspiring you? How do you see yourself when you are wearing the "hat of many dreams?"
Nowadays everyone is a story teller; in the rush for sensational, we tend to forget that ordinary people make the best stories. This is my favourite hat ever. I started this series with my own family and our innermost self-projections but I intend to extend the project, take my hat around, ask people about their dreams, get their eyes off their phones and uncover their stories. Ultimately, this is about connecting with each other; a tale of individuals and of identity.

If you are interested to have your portrait taken in this series, please contact me.

Update: "A Hat of Many Dreams" has now taken off and it has its own home. You can read all the stories by clicking Here. 

Love, Hope and Strength

Once again the world is unbalanced and we find ourselves gasping for air, as we follow the news in disbelief.

God is the greatest, they shouted. But this is not a war of God.
God is Love, Hope and Strength and he has nothing to do with people killing others in his name.

It’s no secret that Paris holds a very special place in my heart – As a young journalism student, this city offered me lots of “first taste”, for which I will always be grateful: my first outing in the Western world, my first serious journalistic prize, my first time at important cultural points such as Musée D'Orsay and Louvre, Versailles and Jardin Des Tuileries. My first time to see the works of my heroes, Toulouse-Lautrec and Gauguin...And many others.

Reading the news today, my heart skipped a beat. I’m truly speechless - and that doesn’t happen often.

While I mourn for the lives senselessly lost, I find that the hardest part is to keep myself composed and not give in to the despair that keeps building up after so many tragic events unfolded in just a day. Paris, Baghdad, Beirut – there is just too much sadness for one single day.

Today, I found it hard to keep smiling around my children, not wanting them to know yet just how much evil there is around the world.

Attacking unsuspecting, ordinary people as they go about their daily existence, be it on the street, in a restaurant or at a concert, is ultimately an act of cowardice meant to bring fear, despair and hatred. And if we give in and answer their hatred with hate, their attacks with fear and their war cries with despair, then they have won without us even putting on a fight.

As I am watching my 5yo playing and shining her flash light, I am projecting her image over the most peaceful places I haven known here, in my beloved grasslands. I am sending you all our wish for Peace and Love.

 

 

I am also watching the world lighting up for Paris, the City of Lights. Solidarity. What a beautiful word. And what beautiful gifts it brings. It brings the Love, the Hope and the Strength we all need for a better tomorrow. It brings us Unity.

To all my brothers and sisters of La Ville Lumiére, I’m going to say it the only way I can:

Je t’aime, Paris! Je t’aime de tout mon coeur et de tout mon âme et je promets d’ȇtre à tes côtés pour toujours. Je suis desolée pour ton chagrain; ton chagrain est aussi le mien.

 

 

Under the Sign Of The Snail - A Self-portrait Throughout The Year

 

I don’t believe in horoscopes but if I were to choose a sign, most of the time it feels that I might be born under the sign of snail.

I actually really like snails. They are amazing, tenacious animals and just by observing them, I think I learned more that I would have given them credit for.

I started this series as a bit of a joke; a modern reference to the tortoise and hare story. But then I realised this is a very accurate self-portrait throughout this year. 2015 has been anything but a peaceful year for many, me included.  As I don’t do selfies, this is the perfect way of illustrating the year so far. So here is my story.

We all proceed from the beginning, equally aligned on that imaginary “start” line. At first, you’re still half – hidden in your shell, evaluating all: yourself, the race and its obstacles. A cautious start and then you’re on.

 

You’re doing fine - it seems you’re way ahead and leading; even ahead of your own thoughts.  And for a while, you’re doing just that, happy to lead the race. You’re even tempted to peep behind, to see how others might be doing. Not out of malice, ‘coz that’s not you; but rather through an honest desire to know that they are well. Or maybe even help them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

But somewhat along this course, there comes the moment when you seemingly get stuck on a spot forever, while others get on with the race quite fast.  Without extending the same courtesy and check on you.  You start doubting yourself and your ability to achieve what yesterday seemed so close. Your thoughts are roaming wildly until the second you realise you really needed all this time with yourself. You needed to re-discover who you are, to perfect and re-create yourself into a stronger you.

 

 

 

 

 

There’s still time and you can win this. So you regroup fast and keep going, no matter how tired you might be on this particular day. Tomorrow you’ll be looking back and smiling. Because today you didn’t yield.