Monday, June 25, 2012

Paris, France. June 2012

Leaving Australia allowed me to be in such a delicate emotional state of mind.

Parisian Park, June 2012


I spent my last few days in the country of Australia in Melbourne with my friends Elle Graham and Mitch Nordine in their beautiful home filled with warmth. I had such a lovely time there and to feel that at home before leaving the country made it feel so special and the thought of leaving so soft. I spent my days there rugged up sleeping long and spending the nights chatting until all hours. We had a beautiful brunch and sat out in the chilly air in their courtyard eating a sweet meal Aaron had prepared to say thank-you for our stay. The last night we had a dinner party with some old friends and I made a special cake with raspberries. It was wonderful to spend time with Elle, a friend I will always treasure and be and inspired by.

Travelling across the globe to Paris was a very large adventure in itself. Feeling disorientated and in another world after such a long time without sleep. Arriving in China to convert flights was a quest. How was I supposed to spend my time sleeping with all those thoughts though? Leaving what I am comfortable with. Leaving my routine. I don't feel I am usually one that lives life in routine but it is human nature for us all to fall into patterns.

The thought of having the next few years at my fingertips to photograph, film, write, create and explore Europe gives me butterflies and endless thought processes.

To be in France with my favourite person in this world and to share all the same passions and lust for life is a gift I will treasure each day of this journey.




 Pensive Aaron deep in thought



Fresh Strawberries.




 Paris by day.

Our lovely apartment in Paris, toasting our journeys.






My favourite bookstore in the world is Shakespeare and Company, it is situated on the River Seine here in Paris. Young artists from all over the world come to volunteer their artistic abilities in the form of teaching workshops/inspirational talks and just overall help to run the bookstore. The book shop is filled with treasures, the second level overlooks the river and holds a never-ending library and a piano of which there is usually a lone pianist playing as all are welcome to play.

 I have spent a lot of my time in Paris in the bookstore reading old novels and watching travellers come and go all content and marvelling in the friendliness and feeling of home it holds. I love it for its smell and it's warmth and the way it makes me feel as though I am at home with my family around a roaring bonfire.



I found out visiting this time that the owner sadly passed away last year. When I travelled in 2010 my favourite painting at the Portrait Gallery in London turned out to be of the owner of this very same bookstore. When I visited Paris a few months later I recognised the elderly owner (whose daughter would sit him out on a lovely green vintage chair in front of the bookstore overlooking the river with his dog every afternoon at 1pm with an ice-cream.) Today sadly this man was nowhere to be seen. His dog was there laying in the sun. Aaron and I spent sometime upstairs reading of which the dog would frequently come to visit and would whimper. It made me feel very sad for him, it is usually dogs pass away before their owners. I wonder how the dog understand this, his best friend and loyal companion leaving without a trace.



Sunday, June 17, 2012

Bella-Rose Emerson Snowe



It is my last week here in my home town in North QLD, Australia. I am leaving to travel for a few years very shortly, beginning in Europe. I have been avidly filming a clip for my friend Emerson Snowe, a music student who lives in brisbane (originally from my hometown). The song Bella- Rose is so  delicately beautiful and I have shot all things natural and honest for this film clip as I feel it works perfectly with the lyrics and the style of the musician.  The song can be listened to the song here:

http://triplejunearthed.com/EmersonSnowe

(http://www.facebook.com/emersonsounds)


Here are some photographs I have taken throughout this process. I will be working on the film when I arrive in France














A Portrait of Myself, Aaron, and Emerson Snow.

Thursday, June 14, 2012

Palm Creek 2012


Palm Creek.

elle graham

Palm Creek is a magical festival held beneath a mountain and next to a creek in Nth QLD. The air is always crisp as it is held each year at the beginnings of winter. Families come from near and far across the state to spend four days with like-minded people, listening to beautiful local and foreign musicians and eating delightful organic foods. There are workshops galore of all varieties. The people are all so friendly and everyone there seems to have a constant smile, the deep longing to dance late into the night and the willingness to invite strangers into their lives.

This year Aaron and I packed up Friday and set off on the small roadtrip late in the afternoon. Steph was in the backseat alongside all of the gear. I kept getting so excited the closer we got, my 5th Palm Creek. I shared a stall with my beautiful nymph like friend Eri, her friend Gabby and partner John. We all had our hand-made wares for sale. I have been making pendants out of my recycled cutlery. Eri spent the whole time doing hair wraps for lovely ladies. It was beautiful to watch her spindle their hair with arrays of colours, infusing her time and care into a part of their locks. 

The whole time was such an unforgettable mind set.  Crisp Air. Intense music. Homemade Foods. Stars. Seeing Saturn. The Creek. Picnics. Sharing a stall. Great company. Warm Hugs. Fog. Fire twirlers. Sunrises. Sunsets. Happy barefooted children. So much love in such a small amount of time.


connecting stars
our stall

wrapping




aaron and I on a picnic



eri


winter morning
sunrise - by aaron






Saturday, June 02, 2012

Easter at the Beach Hut

Easter -

Easter we spent in the cool breeze of our beach hut up North near a town called Ingham. I spent most of my childhood at the beach hunt. My grandparents have owned the hut for 45 years. It is a home to many memories, it is a home to all of us as a family. A shack with no electricity, residing right on the beach filled with trinkets and natural collections from over the years, oil paintings by my great grandmother cover the walls aged by the salt air and showing how the hut looked many years ago. The beds are draped with mosquito nets and filled with thick covers for the chilly nights. The front verandah pavers handmade by grandad and holding the tiny hand and footprints of my mother and her sisters from when they were young children.

For years I was bathed as an infant on the kitchen table in a blue bucket overlooking the whole ocean. We had formal dress up nights where we scoured Op shops to find the most humorous 'formal attires' and cooked fancy roasts in the gas oven. We would fill our tummies with warmth on the front patio watching the sun set and the moon rise. We collected shells and turned them into wind chimes, bracelets necklaces using fishing line, to then sell them at the local markets with my dad. We collected fire wood and built bonfires, roasting marshmallows, my sister would make the damper, she was better than all of us. Everyone would be chanting goodnights to each other from their warm beds, laying beneath their nets as the generator was turned off by grandad with his torch. We would fall to sleep to the smell of a settling fire, the rid on your skin to keep the mosquitos at bay and the faint smell of the salt off the waves crashing along the beach.

Easter has always been a special time of year as the whole family come together. We collect flowers and leaves and shells to create an egg nest for easter bunny, usually in old ice cream buckets, grandmas old saucepans, anything you can find. The Easter Bunny would come while you slept. He still comes while I sleep even to this day. As my parents would say, "If you do not believe you do not receive", I think this theory is also very special when thinking of life in general.

This year Easter was no exception. We had our tent next to the hut out looking over the whole ocean, the breeze flowing through our tent, so alive. We spent the time exploring the beach, eating amazing foods and reading. We went on a small trip to the waterhole nearby, underneath Paluma. We swam as the sunset. Our skin grew goosebumps as the sun disappeared behind the trees. It is beautiful up there as the rainforest meets the bush. There is an abundance or dragonflies who dance through the air, occasionally landing on your bare skin.

We played Bobs the last night, Grandad was very excited we were all enthusiastic to play. We had the fire lit and the Moon was possibly the biggest I had ever seen it. We turned the front verandah into a dance floor and danced for hours. The kitchen is usually where all the dancing happens. I remember when I was younger I would always dance in there with my brother, or waltz with my lovely grandma. The floorboards would creak with our faint weight prancing upon it.

This was my last easter I will spend in Australia for a few years and it was just as beautiful as every other easter I have spent there. It is a beautiful thing to feel as wild and free as you did when you were a child, the beach hut allows me to feel that way.


sky

behind the hut amongst spider webs


Steph setting up her net with great grandmas painting on the wall

Grandad dressed up as Easter Bunny for the children

Kissing Grandma