out of the safety zone

In all probability I had already changed into an old woman before the fires but I was too busy to notice it happening. I feel as if age snuck up on me when I was distracted by all the drama. Just at the minute it does not make any difference. Some how I have to deal with each days problems and see the funny side as often as possible.

Last week we had enormous help from all directions. Sharron brought out a whole team of able bodied and enthusiastic workers from her work and Rod brought out a busload of equally willing people from Luther collage. Edd’s good friend, Trevor and his mate Chas even stayed two nights and with all this help miracles have been achieved.

It became clear that I was going to have "spare time", that long lost commodity I have not seen for years. Not to worry. I have always wanted to do more art and had already brought suitable materials from the two-dollar shop. However there was one big snag. I could think of absolutely nothing I wanted to paint or draw.
It was tempting to do a dot painting, as a way to start, but borrowing someone else’s voice seemed to be missing the point. In the end I just got a canvas and painted it black. At least I had made a start, and as my friend Merv used to tell us, the muse can only reach you if you are in the studio waiting for her call.

I looked hopefully at the black canvas but still no inspiration emerged. My youngest son Josh once wrote for a school exercise that for him, “ black represents the peaceful tranquillity of a non threatening void”. Maybe I am stuck in the black. My past all wiped out by the fire and my future unformed. May be it is peaceful and non-threatening at this point. Perhaps I will have to work at dragging myself back into life.

I set myself socialisation targets. On Wednesday we had a Permaculture meeting at Nola’s house. I think I stuffed that one up. Luckily Nola has the most intelligence in people skills of anyone I have ever dealt with. On Thursday I dragged my black canvas and paints off to the Steels creek art club. There were only three people there because someone had died this week. This was bad but good for me as there were less people to react with. I actually enjoyed several hours trying to interact with the black canvas and I don’t think I really irritated anyone.

My art has always been too controlled, too left-brain and safe, so I am forcing myself out of my comfort zone in art as well as life. I want to use our loss as a catalyst for personal growth. This all sounds very brave on paper but putting it into practice will be more of a challenge.

Luckily Edd is being far more practical and has almost completed enough fencing to allow us to release all the animals from their pens. My socialisation has given it's first results in that I now have flu. It may or may not be swine flu, which has already reached our valley, but it is not too bad.