 | Something Quirkier |
During lockdown I started taking photos of wildlife and trees on my daily walk. I would often hear the kookaburras but I could never see them. Then, one day, just a metre away from me there it was - a kookaburra in all its photographable glory! I took some wonderful photos to add to my "walks of lockdown" collection. Seeing that kookaburra made me smile and feel really good. That was a small blessing. Desi, Melbourne. These two patches were made for ‘Enveloped’. Hand dyed wool blanket by Chris, design by Lynn, stitching / appliqué by Desi. One day, when walking in a local park with my daughter, we thought we heard the sound of drumming akin to a bongo or something similar. It was during one of Melbourne's lockdowns, and there didn't seem to be anyone around. As the drumming sound got louder, we spotted a mob of emus hanging around the fence to the wildlife reserve. We had never experienced the noise an emu makes, but we learnt that day that it sounds like drums! The small blessing was that my daughter had brought her phone with her, something she rarely does on walks, and so we were able to film it and share it with my sick husband who was at home. A drummer himself, he was very surprised to hear the sound! Desi, Melbourne. “It's a response to another CRF (Canberra Region Feltmaker) member hosting me over the Feltmakers Convergence in Canberra - a small blessing (it was big actually) and we shared our stories - her from NZ and me from sheep country Rye Park. Everything in my picture is common to both of us, the rural scenery and SHEEP! Annette, NSW. Patch for ‘Enveloped’ made by Annette. Approx size: 36cm x 38cm. Appliqué hand made felt. In 2008 I had the great good fortune to travel to Japan. It was a serendipitous happening. I’d had an unexpected gift of an airfare. My dad had passed away the previous year and had always expressed a wish to return to the Japan of his youth, but life in New Zealand, mortgage, kids, etc. meant he never made it. So I decided to take him with me - in my pocket... We'd always had a quiet Japanese presence in our rural New Zealand home: eggshell china teasets, geisha dolls etc. - the result of dad's tour to Japan as part of the combined Australian New Zealand repatriation troops called J Force. He was a 19 year old country kid with no particular skill set who joined the NZ Military Force in 1947 to help out after the bombing of Nagaski. He was stationed at Shimonoseki and celebrated his 21st birthday there. As you might imagine the experience changed him profoundly. Dad developed a lifelong love and respect for the Japanese people: the beauty, elegance, manner and custom of their culture, and particularly their grace and dignity in the face of the horror they'd experienced. He formed a lifelong abhorrence of conflict and war. Somehow this passed into me. I took some of his ashes back to Nagasaki and planned to sprinkle them in gardens surrounding Te Korowai Rangimarie - a gift of solidarity and friendship in the form of a monument from the people of New Zealand to the people of Japan. It's an impressive stainless steel cloak of peace and I knew dad would rest peacefully there in the Nagasaki Peace Park. On the last day of my trip my plans were nearly derailed by extraordinary monsoonal rains. Had it not been for the grace and generosity of a young boy on the tram I may never have completed my task. Beauty, elegance, manner and custom still on display after all these years - I saw what dad had meant. Pip wrote a poem that night. To read the poem, go to the stories section.
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