Letting my daughter work towards her destiny.

November 21, 2014November 21, 2014 raphaela991 Comment

Children are such a wonderful mixture of curiosity, bravado and determination. If they want to do something, they will find a way. That is, until someone tells them that they don’t have a strong enough voice, for instance. When my daughter was three years old, she wanted to sing Over the Rainbow on stage at a talent quest. She dressed as Dorothy, and listened respectfully as older children performed before her. “Are you sure you want to do this sweetheart?” I asked. She nodded “yes!” I was worried that she would burst into tears up there, that she would be afraid. Shame on me. She didn’t remember all the words, but she hid her discomfort by twirling around. She was a hit. From that moment on, she wanted to become a performer. This Christmas, she will be singing with a group of her friends in front of 10,000 people at our local carols. She was sure could she sing in front of people, at three years of age, and she was right!

Three years old, singing Over the Rainbow

She also loves gymnastics and acrobatics. My stomach used to twist into knots when she was younger, and I would see her ascend to the top of climbing frames, and show off by releasing her hands. I was sometimes lectured by passers-by on the importance of keeping her on the ground, of keeping her safe. “She and I know her capabilities,” I would reply. “She is safer up there, secure in herself.” It was true, she was. As I watch her climb to the top of trees, I have the usual motherly reactions, such as the fear of her falling. I fell, and it hurt! My child isn’t going to fall, there is nobody behind her ready to push. She’s got this. I have to be calm and watch, ready to applaud her efforts. This world has already run some commentary around my daughter, as it does every child. Commentary as to what they are capable of, what they should fear, the dangers and pain that await. She shall never get it from me. Perhaps she will be an artist/rigger/acrobatic performer? I love watching her evolve into who she is destined to be. She is gathering all the corners, and making herself a parachute of dreams and hopes. She will not fall.

Fishers Ghost Parade.

November 11, 2014 raphaela996 Comments

We have a remarkable teacher at school, Lucette. She is five foot nothing, and never sleeps. I gasped when I first entered her classroom. A cornucopia of wondrous delights. Art filling every crevice, wall and space on the ceiling. It was beautiful. Each year, she asks for participants for the Fishers Ghost Parade. Last year, I went as a Scottish wench, and my daughter as a Highland dancer.

You are required to go for fittings, the classroom now teaming with clothing racks filled with the most remarkable costumes. It is great fun, and you get to know other families getting into the spirit of the cultural event. She seeks out kids with a bit of spunk, and she seeks out kids who may be normally overlooked. I love her for that. It is always blisteringly hot the day of the parade, and as we stand waiting to take our place in the merciless sun, we try our best not to pass out. As soon as we start our march through the crowds, the discomfort is forgotten.

We look out at the crowds, whom have been waiting for hours, seated on folding chairs and are touched. I heard that quite a few in the crowd cant afford the rides of the carnival to follow, and have built traditions within their families of taking them to the parade. That moves me. The theme this year was the melding of cultures. Ours was Japan and Scotland. My little girl was the Queen of the Thistles.

She was so eager to be a part of it again this year, and I love that this event gets everyone so enthused. My friend Karen, looked a vision in her kimono, and as she passed an elderly Japanese lady, she bowed very low as a sign of respect. She was approached later and told how much that had meant. Lucette is throwing a Christmas party for the participants soon, and we look forward to being reunited with everyone. She is a weaver of people, art and pageantry, bringing it all together. What a gift to have!

The Wishes of a Child.

October 30, 2014 raphaela992 Comments

She makes a wish for mummy to not be in pain.

It works. At this moment... — It works. At this moment…

All I can feel is the purest wish of a child.

Always for mummy's back. — Always for mummy’s back.

Pink is the new black.

October 29, 2014October 30, 2014 raphaela99Leave a comment

Most people are surprised to hear that I am a hermit at heart. A solitary creature, who is used to keeping her own counsel. I made the distinction between needing “a fix” of people, to electing to enjoy their company. There is a difference. Usually when I enter a room, I feel awkward, and either stumble over my feet and walking stick, or blurt out something random, and unconnected to the conversation. On this occasion, I instantly felt at home. My friend Lisa is a nurse, and one of the gentlest and ethereal women I have had the privilege of knowing. Her beloved mother-in-law passed from breast cancer, and every year she organizes a high tea in her honour.

Colourful people arrive and donate goods, and money is raised to crush this disease. This year, the very talented Hannah Erika Crichton kindly donated her talents and time to sing for us. We were in a hall with women who had been through dark night’s of the soul, mind and body. I loathed the colour pink before having my daughter. I preferred black. I preferred anonymity. I now view pink as a colour of strength, of dreams and power. A colour you underestimate, until it knocks you to the ground with its force of will.

The women in the hall were strong, gutsy, plucky. I stood for a moment, and looked around. The ladies smiled amongst the easy banter at the tables. Bliss was produced with my friend Nicci’s cupcakes and Lisa’s divine soy candles. Pink, I loathed you for what you seemed to expect of me. I apologise in full. It was not you, but my culture that insisted I be demure, pandering and agreeable (at all times). Rather, you have always viewed women as strong, filled with vigour, a powerful voice, a buoyant heart and creative hands. I have had you all wrong. These women, cloaked in pink, have proven that to me.

Photos by Sharon’s Photography.

The Dawn’s.

October 27, 2014October 27, 2014 raphaela99Leave a comment

Dawn and I. Didn’t know the camera was on video!

I have the privilege of having two Dawn’s in my life. Both are in their sixties, with artistic leanings and a feisty spirit. They haven’t had it easy. The first Dawn is featured above. We didn’t know that my phone was turned to video! I love her smile, and the spectacular way she dresses. I first met Dawn at the local bus stop when my daughter was a baby. Every time I go down the street, I bump into this magnificent lady. I sometimes loan her money, and a few days later, find it in my letterbox, along with a little gift. My little girl is often the recipient of chocolate or some other sweet treat, and wraps her arms tight around her Aunty Dawn. We gave her a lift home from the supermarket the other night, and she asked us to hold on for a moment when we reached her house.

She came out with this dear little notepad, on which she had written an invitation to her birthday celebrations. Lizzie was thrilled, as was I.

Our other friend is Dawn De Ramirez. She ran away and joined the circus as an adolescent, becoming their trapeze artist, travelling through Europe. Her future husband, Raffael, was the cook, and they married during this time. I met her when she judged the first poetry competition I entered. She rang me and we talked from the heart, something we continue to this day. She is a born entertainer, and an advocate for Aboriginal youth at risk of suicide. Dawn travelled to England a few years back, and was able to fund her adventures by passing around a hat at every pub she stopped at. It is such a blessing for my daughter to have the two Dawn’s in her life, providing colour, whimsy, poetry, art and kindness. The characters of this world shake us up with their authenticity. It is brave to be yourself in all your glory, to like who are and how you go about life.

‘I’m Bored.’

‘Say Cheese.’

More Art!

ImageOctober 21, 2014December 30, 2014 raphaela99Leave a comment

Lizzie’s Art.

ImageOctober 20, 2014December 30, 2014 raphaela992 Comments

Art is a beautiful medium of expression. My little girl loves her art, and attends a local studio each Saturday. She is there for almost three hours. I love seeing the pure joy on her face when she shows me her latest creation. My house is filled with her art. It provides a visual showing […]

#ProjectPositive, September 21st. Beautiful.

September 20, 2014December 30, 2014 raphaela994 Comments

To me, beauty is:

10270139_750293921671122_1990180875_n — **Sydney**

10489653_793081947392319_4688436137394943390_n — **Art found by accident**

I was always told I was pretty, and it meant nothing to me. How could it? Every day I was being abused. Somebody thought I was so beautiful that they were intent on destroying me. I would rather have a beautiful life. I have worked hard to obtain such a life. Beauty is what leaves you gasping. Beauty is when my daughter held a dying man’s hand in palliative care when she was three years old, and bowed her little head as she said a prayer. You can’t script such a beautiful event. She just did it. Beautiful is how you feel when released from a body cast and have bathed your battered body. Beautiful is how you feel when someone compliments you and beautiful is how it feels when a friend embraces you. My child is an artist, compassionate, an animal lover, an environmentalist. She has a beautiful heart and a beautiful mind and a beautiful spirit. She would not like to be reduced to being “a pretty little girl,” and I am not awfully keen on reducing her! Beauty comprises so many facets, like a diamond. It is not one-dimensional, nor are we. I have a beautiful life, and that makes me feel beautiful indeed.

#ProjectPositive, September 17th. Good Vibes.

September 16, 2014December 30, 2014 raphaela99Leave a comment

Good vibes is having hundreds of fairies in the room, trying to break the world record!

Good vibes can be found in the most extraordinary places, and in the most unexpected ones. You have to be on the lookout for these wondrous moments. The morning after the fall, I was wheeled along to the Catscan machine, and screamed in pain as I was lifted by six people into it. Exhausted, I was laying on my trolley in the reception area, waiting to be taken back, when an older lady came up to me. She smiled and stroked my cheek. “You have beautiful skin, darling,” she said. When I looked in the mirror held up to my face later that day, I only saw a severely bruised face, cut lip, cracked head, and dry, matted blood throughout my hair. The lady had good vibes, and saw me, beyond all the detritus. That’s what these folks do, they spread their good vibes around, like warmed butter. They cut through pain, sorrow, and horrendous times. It’s a gift. They flit in and flit out, much like a hummingbird, searching for nectar.

Last Valentine's Day, my beautiful friend invited my daughter and I for dinner. — Last Valentine’s Day, my beautiful friend invited my daughter and I for dinner.

Each hospital trip, they have found me. I will never forget coming out of my coma at thirteen, being taken back to my ward after weeks in ICU. The kids who had witnessed the doctors trying to resuscitate me, had decorated the walls with artwork. We sometimes feel impotent when tragedy strikes a person. We may not have the money to send large floral displays or gifts. We feel like we may be intruding. I can assure you, it’s the little things that mean so much. The card received in the letterbox. The meal cooked with love whilst I have been recuperating. The kind messages on Facebook. The reassurance that you have people in your life who love you and shall be there.

A wall of good vibes at Yoko Ono's exhibition, MCA. — A wall of good vibes at Yoko Ono’s exhibition, MCA.

I try to get over feeling self-conscious when a stranger obviously requires good vibes. Whether it be a smile, a compliment or assistance with directions, it can make such a difference in someone’s day. I have read of occasions where it has saved lives. Sure, I come across the odd sourpuss who looks me up and down and refuses to smile. That’s okay. Who knows what is going on in their life, nor the ripple effect my greeting may have on them throughout the day? Some of the best results happen behind the scenes. Good vibes are everywhere. In the art installation in the park, in the flower stubbornly growing in a crack in the pavement. Everywhere, man!

My friend, sending good vibes to a Gorilla. — My friend, sending good vibes to a gorilla.

A brave pirate with my feisty daughter. More good vibes!

5th September, #Project Positive. Mirror, Mirror…

September 5, 2014 raphaela991 Comment

When I look in the mirror, I see…
A strong woman, and an impudent child. I look into my eyes and affirm, “look love, I know you haven’t had much rest. I know all about your pain. You can do today, you can! I will talk you through the steps, and even estimate how many hours it shall be before you get to have blessed rest. Remember how good it feels to lay down after a productive day? You can do this! You can!” That is the first thing I do every morning when looking in the mirror. I refuse to pay mind to creases and sags and wrinkles and pimples. If I wanted that sort of attention to detail, I would be sitting beneath either a cosmetician’s or plastic surgeon’s microscopic mirror. The eyes, and the smile, that is all that matters. As long as they are set for the day, the rest can be discounted. I pat a little jojoba or rosehip oil onto my visage, and off I go. I first saw my daughter studying her face in the mirror at six. Really studying it, as though they were becoming acquainted for the first time. I have her art and pretty hairbands and clips arranged around the rectangular bathroom mirror. I believe it is time to put up some affirmations too. I have practiced a lot of self-loathing in my time. I have starved myself and binged. When I was underweight, my parents said nothing. Scars and a rotund tummy were commented on, after weeks in bed after surgery. The state of my being after exiting a body cast. The puffiness of my face after steroid injections. Was I going to join the critique and wound myself further? No! I decided the most rebellious thing I could do was to discount the commentary, and certainly not join in. I have loved myself with stitches in my face, with black eyes, teeth that have fallen out due to medications, a body that gained a few stone and a body that became a puffer-fish. I decided that I had to love it all, or I wasn’t practicing self-love, rather conditional approval. It is tough and uncomfortable to look into your eyes at first. To say kind things to yourself. It won’t feel natural. I promise you, that if you keep doing it, it will become a ritual, performed without thinking. It helps to seal the wounds this world inflicts upon us. This world has enough critics. Become an encourager, and start with yourself!