Memory Cracks

The ground is cracked and there is barely any grass left. The yard is a dust bowl speared by brown stubble. I point my toes at it and whinge: “I don’t have my shoes on!” I touch the ground again: it’s hot, prickly and dusty. But somehow, it’s soothing as well. One single blade of grass has stubbornly decided to grow, against all odds.
And then, I remember. When did I start loosing that part of me? I used to wear shoes only when I absolutely had to, constrained by stupid social norms. Or by the cold: winters at -32C are not an (easy) shoeless feat.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sometimes, life does feel like a movie - and I swear, I can hear violins. And then I’m back in my beloved village and life is great again. It’s over 30 years ago but I can see her in her sunflowers dress – that was her good dress – and therefore its sight was always anticipating great things ahead: a trip to the city, a Sunday visit to someone dear or somewhere nice, a wedding… All my childhood memories are now woven in that Sunflowers dress. I wish I had the chance to keep it. I do have her blue sweater – another appearance staple of hers that stayed engraved in my memories since early days. She was never a fashionista, my Nana. She never spent time or money shopping for herself. Her only fashion statement ever happened much later, during her last days with us. She made us promise that when we lay her down for her final sleep, we will tie a ribbon around her neck, to hide her wrinkles. She even chose the ribbon: a red one. My mum was the bravest of us all and she carried out Nana’s wish, much to the affront of the old crones who came for the last visit: “you better take that silly ribbon off before the priest arrives”. – “The ribbon stays”, mum stated. The priest didn’t mind it; he was an old friend of my grandparents and he knew Nana was a good woman who had the right to one last little extravagance, after a life spent looking after the others.

I think often about her. About my village and our farm. Above all, I think about the crazy ways my life has changed so much. About the things I have forgotten and those that still await for me. About how I used to roam around the hills and forests, finding my way by finding north. My Old Man made sure I knew how to do that. I think about how I could tell a season by the birds around the place. Something that the Southern Hemisphere can’t really relate to. How I could find the cardinal points by the moss on the trees. How we used to bake bread and labour the land. I knew what needed to be done each month just by looking at the garden. Here, the soil has lots of clay. The months and the seasons are opposite to everything I knew. I still find solace in the hours I spend in the garden, Most of the time, it feels good. But it also feels artificial: Nowadays, I am not really cultivating the land or growing a crop. I have a small garden purely for our pleasure.

 

My Nana was a woman born ahead of her time. She would have made a very good entrepreneur in our days. Having survived the War, she had a great way of doing lots from little. You know how we all spend bucket loads of money on gro-bags when babies are born? Those special, tiny sleeping bags keeping babies warm at night but preventing them from overheating? My nana invented those before they were invented in the modern days. That’s how she slept her babies and that is how we slept as babies too. She made clothes from scratch and kept sewing, knitting and crocheting – depending on the season.

No scrap of food was ever wasted – she swept the breadcrumbs and fed them to the chooks. The food leftovers were made into pigs feed. The fruit and veggies were made into preserves. She moved about with the grace of a ballerina yet with a general’s demeanour and precision, ushering us all into the chores we had to help with.

And then, the bags. Those plastic bags that we all complain of slowly filling our environment… I still remember how she used to wash and recycle every single plastic bag that came her way. In fact, she recycled just about everything; nothing could go to waste. We made our pocket money by selling bottles to the recycling point. Glass bottles, not the plastic pets we have today.

There are so many things I love about her. But above all, I remember her big heart. Her smile. Her witty replies and her thoughtful praises.

She used to go to bed last, as she was preparing the household for the new day. She was first up, before even the sun was up and I remember those mornings, half asleep, when I could hear her voice talking to the chickens while she fed them. Then she milked the cow, talking to her too.

I don’t have any memory of my nana sleeping. I don’t think I have ever seen her sleeping. Her “rest” time was sitting in her arm chair, working on something – a sweater, a vest or perhaps making a new tablecloth for her 3 granddaughters’ trousseaux. I kept asking her whether she was tired – she always answered that the night was too long - something I didn't understand until it was my turn to have children.

 

 

#Winter Wonderland in THAT Special Place

 

 

 This fence is the imaginary line I draw between the real world and my special, happy place.

 

A place that changes from one hour to another; let alone days or seasons. My Grasslands have me spellbound – I always return for more of its peaceful scenery.

 

I haven’t been out and about in a while so this morning it felt so good to return. Although a tad chilly.

Armed with my very basic camera and with a very vivid imagination, I entered through the thick fog enveloping the grounds. And what a sight this crisp Winter morning was. If I closed my eyes, I could even pretend it’s really like the winters I used to know. The fog and frost made it possible for me to pretend that everything was covered in snow. For a few minutes, Winter Wonderland had moved in my backyard – as I liberally call the grasslands – and Christmas in July really is knocking at the door.

I love my early morning walks – today it seemed to be too early and too cold for anyone else to be out. Alone with my thoughts, I loved taking in the sounds, the smells and the colours.

One would never imagine how colours really pop on a foggy background.

But on the other hand, for me - the fog is still one of the hardest things to master when it comes to photography.  I didn’t take brilliant shots today and they needed an occasional tweak; nevertheless I had a great time seeing the place come to life.

It's always busy in the grasslands – this morning lots of birds, kangaroos and hares saluted me hurriedly.  

I am not sure whether the mist is making the animals more alert to the small noises or whether the kangaroos aren’t used to me anymore, since I haven’t been able to follow them for a while.

One thing is sure, they were very wary of me this morning. Usually, I was able to go quite close to them. Today however, they ran as soon as they saw me.

There are a few foxes too but I have never been lucky enough to photograph them. I have quite a long list of “missed opportunities” - things that I would have liked to photograph but wasn’t fast enough or didn’t have my camera at the right time. Until I get lucky, enjoy my imperfect frozen beauties, from the comfort of your warm toasty house.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Love is Love

Small update on 27.06.2015: 

Isn't it amazing that #LoveWins? As it always should. #Australia, you can do it too! The fact that USA has recognised the #MarriageEquality is a great step towards a better tomorrow. Now we need to work on attitudes, too. Just like racism, homophobia will not disappear over night. Even if it is illegal to discriminate, some people out there are and will still be doing it. Hopefully the stereotypes will start fading and one way to ensure that this will happen is to start telling our children that is is ok to love who you want. That it is doesn't matter who you are, what your preferences, your religion or race are. The only thing that should matter is whether you are a good person. I am reposting on all social media my #photstory on #MarriageEquality rally in #Canberra because I think it is more important than ever. Please help spreading the love. Share away, my friends.

Today, I came across the #marriageequality rally by chance, as I happened to be in the city with my camera. And I am grateful for being there, for witnessing two powerful messages. 

Firstly, seeing so many children involved, gives me hope for a better tomorrow. For a world where humanity, common sense, compassion and love will reign, if we all try to bring up our kids without projecting on them our own vision of the world. Seriously, try listening to the little people. Really listen to what they have to say, to their take on things. You will be amazed beyond words. 

I also really enjoyed Shane Rattenbury's message. Very powerful and delivered with his heart. You know what? I am #proudtobecanberran too. 

I  am an European "transplant" but after such a long time being here, I consider myself very close to a true blue local for the simple fact that I know lots of little nooks that no one else does. Canberra for me was pretty much love at first sight. And something tells me it would stay that way for an eternity and a half. 

I am going to leave these images here- they speak for themselves. My camera was merely a witness, documenting a moment that we might remember in years to come as the beginning of equality. I am going to say just this: I think it is pretty awesome that politicians here can be openly gay, live with their partners, even have children together and that this will not ruin their political career. Show me any other country where this is happening. So why then, holding back and denying gay couple the right to be legally acknowledged as a family? #loveislove. On my agenda, it only matters if you are a good person. I don't care what religion you choose to follow, what race you are or what happens in your bedroom. Everyone is free to make their choices. As long as you are in a happy, loving and mutually respectful relationship, it shouldn't matter to anyone else who your partner is. Or their gender. 

I know quite a few married couples who have long lost any connection with each other but choose to stay together for the kids, for convenience or for keeping up the appearances. Why are they more entitled to a legal bind than a same-sex couple is? 

On the other hand, I have quite a few friends in a same-sex relationship and I am always amazed by the way they manage to keep "that sparkle" going, by the gentleness, deep respect and love they always have for each other. I think it's only right they get the same legal recognition, same legal rights. I find it extremely unsettling that countries like Ireland and Mexico (who are renowned for their Catholic direction) found it fit to legalise same sex marriage, while Australia, whom I always considered progressive, modern and forward, is still somewhat rejecting the idea. Love always comes from the heart. The rest is just details. So my friends, today and always, #teamequal definitely has my #freevote. Upon leaving the place, I couldn't help but notice that even Mother Nature rallied to the cause, projecting a beautiful rainbow where was least expected.

If you liked this story, please feel free to share it. If you are in these pics, please contact me for your free copies. If you are a parent of these children, you have my deepest respect.