It's YOU! Hello! Nice to see you! Here you will find stuff about living a creative life in country Australia. I create with watercolour, pen, collage, mixed media and photos. I teach, hosts workshops, collect, dream. I love cheese, travel, my garden, faffing, colour and whimsy. I am crap at time management, and do way too many things, but it is all good. Oh yes, all pictures and photos on here by me too, just saying.

Friday, 19 July 2019



HELLO THERE! Oh my lordy it has been a LONG LONG LONG time since I wrote anything on here. Please do not be cranky pants! I am a bit of a shocker at saying NO to things, I am really shitty at time management, I get overwhelm, I juggle a lot of balls... and sometimes I actually CHOOSE to put some of the balls down, because I know I just cannot even TRY to keep them in the air. And blogging was one of those balls, put to the side. It helps my mental health to realise I cannot actually do it ALL, let alone some of it. 

As I get older, I truly realise how all of us have really different brains, not just personalities, but how we are wired is fundamentally spaghetti looped complicated and impossible to unravel. And not sure if I want to. 

Life is too messy and drippy, and layered, complex and disorganised to make it all make total sense. 

So sometimes I just try to STOP it making sense (thanks Talking Heads). Even so, my brain and I do battle frequently, especially when I have had depression and anxiety biting hard. But we also have the mundane skirmishes, little clashes that decide my day. 

And yep, the grey matter is endlessly processing, assessing, judging, analysing, weighing up options... Trying to absorb information, plan, sort, compile, draw connections, organise. With mixed results. Often repeating myself. 

Aging makes me feel no wiser, or grounded. I still feel like I am playing at being a grown up, playing at ADULTING. But I look in the mirror and I see GREY HAIR. And hair on my chin. Yes, it is hair that tells me I really am a grown up. 

I don't like the weird ones sprouting from odd places, but the grey hair I am actually quite okay with. I like it. 

With lots of shitty stuff happening to people around me, I get that aging is a privilege. That having the ability to make choices, and have options, to use the grey matter to decide such things, is actually stupendously fortunate. I think about it more and more. My grey matter, thinking about grey matter. Because it matters. I think.